Hope walks in while Jami is on the other side of the bar pouring out something stiffer than a beer. When he sees her, he grabs another shot glass then slides them all forward on the bar. “You both need this more than me.”
Hope smiles at my brother, and he winks back at her. Something about the exchange warms my chest. It’s clear they’ve bonded on some level over the past few days, and I like that.
“So, what’s your plan, Hope?” Jami asks. “Going back to the office and then what?”
Hope swallows her shot and slides the glass back to Jami. “I’m playing it by ear.” She raises her hands like she’s surrendering. “We’ll see what happens.”
“Either way, you’re going to be okay.”
She smiles and leans into me. “I am now that I have you.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I grab it, and look at the screen to find my mom’s name illuminated. “It’s Mom.” I look at Jami, wondering if he thinks this is as strange as I do. “She never calls during the week.”
Jami’s forehead creases, and I can see that he’s having the same thoughts as I am. “Unless something is wrong.”
I tap to answer and put her on speakerphone. “Hey, Mom. You’re on speakerphone. Jami stopped by the camp.” I wrap my arm around Hope so she knows I’m not leaving her out. I’m just not sure if this is the time for introductions, considering my mom’s impromptu call.
“Oh, hi, Jami. I was going to call you next,” she says, her voice unsteady. “Look, something happened…”
My heart drops, and I look at Jami to find his jaw hardening. “Is it Dad?” I ask.
“No, your dad’s right here. He’s fine.”
Despite everything, my sigh of relief is deep.
“Hi, boys.” My dad’s gruff tone is more subdued than I remember. He sounds tired, old, grumpy… like he’s given up on the world.
Jami’s lips flatline, and I know that means he won’t be responding, so I continue. “Okay, then what’s going on?”
“It’s Cayson,” my mom says. “There’s been an accident.”
It feels like time stops when I hear my baby brother’s name. I try to brace myself for the worst thing our parents could possibly tell us, but there’s no preparing or cushioning the blow for death. There’s just a black hole, expanding the closer I get to whatever my mom called to say.
I release Hope and lean into the bar to set my phone between Jami and me. “What kind of accident?”
“His plane went down this morning, somewhere over the North Atlantic.”
The shock already zinging through me quadruples. “What?” My voice is a shaky whisper.
“They’ve located him, and they’re airlifting him to the hospital out there, but…”
My entire body is shaking now. Not even Jami’s presence can provide comfort. “But what, Mom?”
“H-He’s unresponsive.”
No, no, no. This cannot be happening again. I start to jump out of my seat when Jami clamps a hand down around my arm and leans closer to the phone. “Where are they taking him?”
“I don’t have the details yet, but they’re sending them as soon as they have more information. I’m going to fly there while your dad looks over things here. I just don’t want Cay to be alone when he wakes up.”
When. I breathe a sigh of relief at the hopeful word. When, not if.
“I’ll go too.” The words rush out before I’ve even thought them through. Then I look over at Hope, who is sliding her arms around me. A sign of sympathy. A comforting embrace. Not a single sign of disappointment at the fact that our Seattle plans must change.
Jami squeezes my arm. “I’ll go with him.” Our eyes connect, and I nod. “Mom,” Jami starts again. “Do you know anything else, like what caused the crash?”
She lets out a small cry that I can tell she’s been trying to hold back. “They didn’t tell me much, other than that he was on his way back to North Carolina from a mission delivering hurricane relief supplies to Puerto Rico. The turbulence was too much, and there was an unfortunate mishap. There were twelve other airmen with him. I don’t know if any of them made it out yet. It’s just too early to tell.”
“What the hell is an unfortunate mishap?” Jami bursts out.
“We don’t know, son,” my dad’s gruff voice responds. “Your mother and I tried to get as much information as possible before we called.”
It takes several seconds before I manage to breathe. Hope keeps holding on to me. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s as though she’s whispering optimistic words in my ear, reminding me that unresponsive doesn’t mean dead. That Cayson’s going to be okay.
“Does Benny know?” It’s the only other question I can think of to ask.
“If the son of bitch ever answered his phone—”
Dad’s grumble is cut short by my mom. “Hush, Andrew. This is not the time for any of your nonsense.”
Jami and I look at each other. He seems to be as surprised as me at our mother’s assertiveness. She never dared speak to him like that when we were younger. At least, not that we ever witnessed.
My mom sighs. “I’ve tried reaching out to Benny, but the last number I had for him was disconnected years ago. Maybe you two will have more luck, but I think the only person he still spoke with was Cayson. They’re close.”
This is another shocking fact that I never would have guessed myself. My chest is as heavy as a ton of bricks. I can feel it in every struggling breath. “They were? Since when?”
My mom sighs. “Since always. Cayson would always keep me informed during our weekly calls, but he never divulged much. I suspect he wanted to respect your brother’s privacy. You know Benny. He’s a private guy and very much disconnected from the world. He’s just living off the grid and having the time of his life.”
I clench my jaw, my chest raw from the fact that Benson chose Cayson to keep in touch with rather than Jami and me. It hurts.
“Maybe he’ll catch word of this somehow and call,” my mom says, her tone hopeful.
“Don’t hold your breath.” Jami’s words are bitter, his anger toward Benny far more intense than anybody else’s. I’ve never really understood why, other than that Jami and Benson always had the biggest blowups of all the brothers.
I nudge Jami and throw him a glare. This is not the time. “Hey, Mom, Cayson’s going to be okay. Keep us updated, and let us know if there’s anything we can do. We’ll see you soon.”
After I hang up, everything goes quiet between Jami, Hope, and me. I’m replaying the conversation with Mom as though there are clues about Cayson’s safety. But it’s too silent for too long. Anger is beginning to replace the shock, and it’s spinning faster the longer time goes on.
“We’re not losing another fucking brother, you hear me?”
Jami nods, his jaw still hard.
Cayson was the baby. The most innocent of us all. He doesn’t deserve to be in this situation after a mission that probably saved thousands of lives. He’s a hero, which is more than I can say about any other Bexley.