“What’s happening, brother?” I slide him a cold bottle of ale I’d already taken the top off when I first spotted him.
He takes a long pull while lifting and dropping his shoulders. “Same ole shit around here.”
I chuckle lightly because I thought the same thing when I first arrived. My mind was so closed to the idea of even stepping foot back on this island, let alone in this camp, that I almost didn’t see what Anderson had done for us all. It took me time—weeks—but I’m finally coming around.
“You might change your tune if you spent some time here rather than passing through to see Cay. Anderson’s done a lot for this place.”
Benson rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s what all you fuckers keep telling me. I don’t see it.”
Maybe I’m beginning to see the importance of what Anderson has always tried to tell me. If we give up on this camp and all the dreams we shared for this place, then aren’t we giving up on Tyson’s dreams too?
“Open your eyes, Benny.” I lift my arms and swivel slightly, gesturing all around. “Don’t you remember those stupid blueprints we used to draw up when we’d dream about running things one day? This is it. The adult campground and all its amenities.”
Benson cracks a smile so subtle I almost miss it. “Not complaining about this saloon. Not sure why you’re the one running it though.”
I match his amusement. “Neither am I, honestly. I’ve got a good setup in Seattle, but what can I say? This place is in our blood. There’s no escaping it.”
He takes another swig of his beer and shakes his head. “Speak for yourself. I got out as soon as I could.”
“We noticed.” I scroll my brother’s features, realizing how much he’s hardened over the years. Not just on the inside but on the outside too. Not even the stubble on his face can hide the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. “What have you been up to?”
“Just living the van life. Exploring all Mother Nature has to offer and existing in the moment. One day I’m hiking the golden trails of Utah, the next I’m riding an airboat through the Everglades. Nothing like it. But in the winter, I usually head southeast to avoid the cold.”
A few beats of silence pass between us before Benson looks up at my blinking eyes. He wrinkles his face and leans back. “What, bro?”
I chuckle. “You realize this is the most you’ve spoken since you got here?”
He blows out a breath between his lips. “I’m not a talker.”
“See,” I say, leaning on the bar with my elbows. “That’s where you’re wrong. You were always the biggest fucking talker. There was a time when we couldn’t get you to shut up.”
Benson’s forehead furrows, and I practically feel the discomfort washing over him. “I don’t remember that.” He takes a last pull of his beer and slides the empty bottle to me. “Got another one where that came from?”
I open another bottle and set it in front of him. “Have you thought of taking up a job at camp while you’re here? Anderson could use the extra hands, and then maybe we’ll get to see you for more than a few seconds every visit.”
Benny shakes his head, the bottle nearly to his lips. “No can do. I’ve been working on my own shit.”
My brother is the biggest mystery of anyone I know. I hate that we’ve grown so distant over the years that he can’t even sit still long enough to catch up. Like right now, I can feel his rush to toss back a few drinks so he can jet off like he always does.
“What have you been working on?”
He chuckles. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Bet I would.”
Benny studies me for what feels like the longest time before shaking his head and downing more of his drink. The bottle is emptying fast.
“I’m not interested in any opinions on the matter right now. I’m just dabbling in some things.”
“Art?” The question comes faster than I’m ready for. I don’t even know why I remembered how Benny was fascinated with abstract art when he was little. As he grew older, he started hiding his art like he was embarrassed by it. In his teens, it seemed like his love for the stables took over his entire existence. Until the day Ty died.
Benny seems to lose some color in his cheeks at my guess. “What made you say that?”
The last thing I want is for his embarrassment to come back full force. Not when he’s finally talking to me again. “You used to be into it. It was the first thing that came to mind.” I give a quick lift and drop of my shoulders. “Anyway, that was a long time ago. I’m just asking because it’s nice having you around again.”
Benny looks down and nods. “It has been a long time.” He looks up again, his eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t plan to go off-grid the way I did. Everything just happened, and the longer I stayed away, the easier it was to stay away. You know?”
“Oh, I know. I did the same thing.”
Benny angles his head. “You did? I mean, I know you have your own thing going on in Seattle now, but you probably still came back here to visit.”
I shake my head. “Never. Not until a few months ago.”
Benny’s mouth falls open. “You too, huh?”
“What can I say? This place holds our demons. I’m only now figuring out the way to get rid of those fuckers is to face ‘em. Head on.”
His face hardens again. “I’ll drink to that. Got anything stronger behind that bar of yours?”
Chuckling, I hold up a bottle of tequila in one hand, whiskey in another. “What’s your poison?”
“Whiskey oughta do it.”
After I pour him a shot, he tosses it down his throat. We’ve lost so much time together. The last time I saw him, he wasn’t even close to drinking age.
“Dad was a real asshole after Ty died,” Benny says, picking right back up where we left off. “And then he took in Silver like helping her would totally redeem his character.”
Silver, who’s like our adoptive sister, started living with us when she was seventeen and needing a home. She even worked as our camp nurse for years before meeting the love of her life and moving to Seattle to live with him. Since then, they got married and she got a great job working in a hospital close to her home. Fortunately, she never got close enough to our father to witness his wild anger and drunken escapades.
I snort at the truth behind Benson’s words, not because I find them funny, but because the mention of our father makes my blood boil. “I love Silver, but I have to agree with you there. Too bad he only got worse.”
“Worse after I left? Cay said he was better.”
I take in a deep breath, steadying my skyrocketing pulse. “Cay lived in a bubble, just like Silver. I think Dad always felt guilty when he looked at Andy and me. Like we were reminders of all the ways he’d failed in life. At least that was how he treated us.”
Benny’s frown deepens. “Yeah, well, he never let me forget that I was the reason Ty died. I might as well have been the horse that threw him.”
My chest squeezes. “That wasn’t your fault, Benny. You know that, right?”
He shrugs. “It kind of was. Ty was the good twin. He would have never skipped school without my convincing. He was always there to steer me back in the right direction when I needed it. Probably explains why I became such a fuckup after he died.”