Heaven and Hell (Page 81)

“She is,” Sam’s deep voice replied at the same time I said, “I am.”

“Yeah?” Kyle asked, “How ‘bout Gitte and Kia go do some woman shit and you convince me of that?”

“Kyle,” I whispered and his eyes sliced to me and when they did the fear I saw stark in them, an emotion I’d never seen my brother experience, nearly brought me to my knees so I repeated on a whisper, “Kyle.”

“It’s good that motherfucker is dead,” he whispered back.

I moved to him and put my arms around him, whispering again, “Kyle.”

“Do my time to kill him, he wasn’t,” Kyle went on.

“Honey,” I said softly.

“It wasn’t sick as shit, I’d dig his punk ass carcass up and burn the motherfucker,” he told me, his eyes roamed my face then his arms closed around me.

I did a face plant in his chest.

His arms got tighter. So did mine.

“Can I ask, at this juncture, what ‘woman shit’ entails?” Gitte asked, I unplanted my face out of my brother’s chest, turned my head and looked at his girlfriend.

Kyle and Gitte had been together for four years. They were a matching set. He was blond, handsome, tall and built. She was blonde, gorgeous, tall and built. They were both sweet and loving but they were also both chock-full of attitude. The only difference was, Kyle was American and male and Gitte was Danish and female.

Her name meant “strength” and her personality underlined it.

As evidenced by the annoyed look on her face at being relegated to “woman shit”. They said men married their mothers and women married their fathers. This was not true with me but it was definitely true with Kyle and Gitte. Dad had taught Kyle to be a man’s man and my brother might work a desk job but he kicked ass doing it, he pulled down a huge salary and, often, he thought what he said went.

And also often, Gitte staunchly disagreed.

“Gitte –” Kyle started.

“Do I not get to understand the Sam Love?” she asked, her delicate, arched eyebrows arching further which, knowing Gitte for four years, boded bad things. “Or, perhaps, Kia and I should retire to her bedroom and give each other facials?”

Uh-oh.

I pulled out of my brother’s arms in order to steer clear. I got two steps back when Sam, clearly using his training and reading the room, tagged the back of my tank and pulled me two steps further and into his body.

“Darlin’, I think you get me,” Kyle stated though he was wrong, Gitte did not.

“I called off work too and not to drive all the way up here to give Kia a facial,” she retorted then looked to me and said, “Though, your skin is lovely, always. You don’t need one.”

Seriously, I loved Gitte and not just because she thought I had good skin. Unlike Luci, my brother didn’t make me wait to find a good one who I could love like a sister and get drunk with.

“Thanks, honey,” I whispered. “You don’t either.”

She nodded and smiled.

Sam, surprisingly silent, decided not to be silent any longer.

“Right, I’m hungry. Kia’s gotta be hungry. There are no groceries in the house and even if there were, Kia’s boxed up all her kitchen shit so we can’t fix anything. We need food. You can come with us, eat if you’re hungry, don’t if you’re not but either way, while I eat, I’ll fill you in. Both of you. ”

There you go. Sam was being decisive.

“Is Kia gonna get a hole blown in her while we visit the Pancake House?” Kyle asked Sam and instantly I decided on pecan pancakes from the Pancake House for lunch.

“No,” Sam answered Kyle but didn’t elaborate.

Kyle held Sam’s eyes.

I waited.

Gitte waited.

Sam stayed silent.

Memphis yapped.

My stomach growled audibly.

That was when Kyle said, “Let’s get pancakes,” then added, “Or do commandos eat pancakes?”

Gitte grinned.

I bit my lip through my own grin.

Memphis yapped.

Sam muttered, “Serious as Christ, I spend another day in this ‘burg, I need to find a gym.”

That was when I knew I was going to get my pecan pancakes.

And that was also when I laughed.

Chapter Sixteen

Promise

Sam was on his phone in the kitchen talking to the unknown (to me) Tanner Layne.

I was on my couch with Memphis.

We’d had pancakes. Sam had shared his keep Kia breathing plans and both Kyle and Gitte had calmed down. We left the Pancake House and went directly where no one went after the Pancake House, the gym. Sam suffered without showing he was suffering through the guy at reception practically drooling at the thought of Sam working out there. Then he kindly declined free passes and paid for a week’s worth. After that was achieved, we went to the grocery store where most of our cart was filled with fruit, veggies and lean proteins, courtesy of Sam.

Their presence became a boon because we all went back to my house and they helped me work toward getting ready for my everything must go yard sale.

When Mom and Dad were off work, we all headed over there and had a family meal that consisted of breaded and fried pork cutlets, fried potatoes and corn fried in butter, all of these prepared in Mom’s three ever-present cast iron skillets. This was served with enormous poppy seed roles and followed by strawberry pie.

When Sam’s plate was put in front of him, he looked at it a nanosecond then his eyes instantly cut to me.

I tried to stop my laughter therefore I snorted.

“What?” Mom asked upon hearing the snort.

“Nothing,” I answered.

Mom glanced between the two of us then unusually let it go.

Sam tucked in but I imagined he did it while mentally adding about a hundred more pushups to his workout the next day.

Dinner was good. Dinner was fun. Dinner was like dinner always was when we all got together – a happy occasion that we cherished because we all weren’t together very often.

Dinner was also more insight for Sam into me, my family, how we interacted, the deep love we felt for each other. My family talked, shared stories, laughed over history and, without anyone mentioning it but with everyone feeling it, we enjoyed a time when we could all be us without Cooter sitting at the table like a big, pink elephant in the room.

Sam was involved though quietly. He chuckled, he laughed out loud, he gave me warm looks and my family warm smiles.

But although Gitte was Gitte, involved, sharing her own tales not only of her times with us but of her life with Kyle in Tennessee and her own family and friends, Sam did not.