Page 14 of The Leaving Kind
Before Cam could suggest the first turn would knock it all out of place, Nick gestured for him to pass the second box over. “I want to strap them down. I’ve packed them pretty well, but the furniture is still delicate.”
Cam grinned. Packed well in Nick-speak meant the boxes could be dropped from orbit and the furniture would be fine. But he knew Nick would have spent hours on every piece, making sure it replicated the original perfectly. His brother had the sort of talent that stunned. Granted, the cost of a Nicholas Zimmermann custom dollhouse also left more than a few people without air, but for his customers, every penny was well spent.
Cam looked forward to seeing how the owners of this treasure reacted. He also wished he had the patience and dexterity to do what Nick did. He enjoyed working with Luisa, Jorge, and the others at Shepard’s. It was the best job he’d had in years. He pretty much set his own hours, working as often as Luisa needed him, and as hard as he wanted.
But loading and delivering soil and trees didn’t take a lot of brainpower. Sometimes Cam needed a break from thinking. He’d enjoyed that aspect of being a mechanic in the army; being able to lose himself in maintenance and repairs often helped him forget where he was and where he’d been. Never for long, though.
Here, he could drift through a day, his thoughts touching off anything and everything. Enjoy conversation with customers, one-sided banter with Jorge, and yelling at whatever talk radio program he could find. Other days, he’d plug into an audiobook and while away the hours feeling almost productive. He’d listen to lectures on the history of the Roman Empire or artificial intelligence and finish a delivery with his thoughts whirling faster than the blades of a Black Hawk helicopter.
It was a rare day that truly challenged him, though.
“What are you thinking about?”
They were somewhere along Route 33. Cam refocused his gaze on the passing scenery outside and determined they were just past the Nazareth exit. Not quite halfway there. He turned to Nick. “Daydreaming. Sorry. A bit drifty. Late night and all that. What’s up with you?”
“I want to talk about marriage.”
There you had it. Nick could probably have managed to get the dollhouse into and out of the truck by himself. He’d asked his big brother along for the ride because he wanted to talk. About—
“Wait, marriage? Did you ...” No, Nick wouldn’t have asked Oliver. Not without preparing an elaborate plan. “Did Oliver—”
“Oliver and I are not getting married.”
Cam leaned toward the center of the vehicle. “I’m listening for the ‘yet.’ Tell me there’s a ‘yet.’”
The corner of Nick’s mouth twitched. “Yet.” He glanced at Cam. “I don’t know if he’s thought of it. Or if he wants that. He’s been married twice already.”
“To women.”
“Maybe he doesn’t believe in marriage between men.”
“I doubt that. Oliver’s all about family. Being a unit. I think marriage suits him regardless of his partner’s gender. I absolutely guarantee he’s thought about marrying you. He probably doesn’t know how to ask, but I’ll bet he has a half-formed plan.”
Nick full-on smiled. “You think?”
“For sure.”
Nick’s smile narrowed. He glanced over again. “Have you ever been married?”
A mule kick to the center of his forehead might have surprised him less. By the time Cam had gathered enough air to speak, Nick seemed to be paying more attention to him than the road. Cam waved at the sign for the upcoming merge with Highway 78. “Want to take the river down, or head along to 309?”
“Let’s take the river. It’s scenic.”
“I figured you’d be all about efficient use of time.”
“Then why ask which way I wanted to go?”
“Just making conversation.”
Nick guided the truck into a merge lane. “You were changing the subject and much less subtly than I would.”
“Pretty much.”
Nick looked at him, concern etched into the fine lines of his face, and Cam got one of those rare glimpses of all of history. His brother as an uncoordinated and spirited young boy who used to practice awkward cartwheels on the back lawn for hours at a stretch.
His silly side had vanished the night their parents had died.
He also saw Nick as a young man—snapshots from when Cam chose to spend his leave at home in Pennsylvania. And Nick as an adult: a familiar but sad stranger.