Page 43 of The Backup Plan

She blew out a long breath. “I’m surprised, but not surprised. Football is Justin’s safe place, even though our brother played, too. Is it yours?”

“It used to be. I guess it still is, kind of, but it’s complicated this year. The studio is my safe place. No one knows or cares in this building.”

“What are you working on?” She pushed herself up on her elbows.

He grinned. “Relief. How appropriate. Just a little garden in soapstone. Did you know the big, tough quarterback likes carving flowers?”

“I didn’t. But I love it.”

“What about you?”

Avery reached for a sketchbook, then stopped. “I started on an idea and scrapped it the other day. Do you ever have one of those brilliant, wake-you-up ideas and a few weeks later you look at it and wonder why you lost sleep over it?”

“I’ve had a few.”

“So to answer your question, nothing outside the basic classwork. But my hands are getting twitchy.”

“Your hands are always twitchy. Did you know that? They’re never still.”

She inspected her fingers. “Seriously? I thought the same about you. You always look like you’re making thumbprint pots.”

“Perfect,” Cam said, snorting a laugh. “What did you scrap?”

“It’s weird.”

“Art is weird.” He folded his arms and leaned over her couch. “Pretty please.”

“It was about Jordan Ackerman.”

Cam sat straighter.

“Justin and I talked this summer about what was going on and what might have happened, and he said that after a point, some rumors just turned funny and escapist. They all had him out living his best life somewhere. At the time, I thought it would be interesting to do a series of those what-ifs, placing him in these scenes people thought up. Almost like a comic book. I could visualize some of them in a kind of pop-art halftone thing.”

“Why did you scrap it?” His voice was strained.

The words rushed out. “I know the police verified he’s alive and well, but it all began to seem really insensitive when I think about making art out of a loss, even if it’s not a death. It’s what some people do, right? To cope, or to honor someone. But it’s so soon, and I didn’t know him, and those what-ifs were just jokes. No one really thinks he’s a tattoo artist on a reservation near the Badlands.”

Cam’s brows shot up. “I hadn’t heard that one.”

“It sounds like something bad happened. And it crossed my mind that I wouldn’t like some random artist turning Isaac’s death into anything even a little funny, so I’m not doing it.”

“Wait. What?”

“My brother.”

“His name was Isaac?”

“Yeah. Weird, huh?”

“You might be surprised how un-weird that really is to me.” Cam re-positioned himself on the couch and lay flat, eyes closed. “I know you said he tries to not get involved, but does Justin think that’s weird? About you and Isaac Fields, I mean.”

“No. You know, maybe I’m not too big a hypocrite, being a little judgmental about Mindy. Justin pushed Isaac at me, big-time.”

“Oh.”

“I pushed back.” Holding her breath, she waited for him to look up.

“Seems to be working out okay for you guys,” he said after a long pause, not stirring.