Page 57 of Axe-identally Married
Chapter Nineteen
Cole
Jude was a healthy eater, but like the rest of us, he couldn’t resist Debbie’s peanut butter cookies. They were perfect, the right blend of sweet, salty, and chewy.
Cookies seemed like the easiest way to go about inviting myself over.
I’d thought a lot about this recently. My relationships. The people in my life.
It was time to start investing in my relationships. I was talking to Dr. Gleeson twice a week by phone now, and she was pushing me to make a bigger effort to connect with my brothers.
“How did you get those?” he asked, taking the container out of my hand and shoving one into his mouth.
I waited until he closed his eyes and groaned before dropping the bomb.
“I made them.”
He paused, mouth hanging open, crumbs spilling out, and stared at me.
“Bullshit,” he mumbled.
I crossed my arms. “Debbie taught me.” I’d also practiced a lot, but he didn’t need all the details.
He looked dubious. “So you made these.”
“For you.” With a smile, I shrugged off my coat. Once I’d hung it up, I held a hand out to Ripley, Jude’s dog. She snorted and walked away, clearly not impressed.
Jude crossed his arms over a T-shirt that read:I’m not procrastinating. It’s a side quest. And glared at me.
“It’s a gesture,” I said. “I wanted to hang out with you.”
He pulled another cookie from the container and took a bite, head tilted in thought as he chewed. “These are fucking great.”
I smiled.
“But,” he said, heading for his coffee maker, “you don’t have to bring me food. Wanna cup?”
I nodded, already feeling grateful that I’d worked up the courage to come. Of all my brothers, Jude was the most approachable. He was quiet and mostly kept to himself, but he had a big heart. He was shorter than me, with thick glasses and a carefully trimmed beard. He spent his free time either hiking in the woods or playing guitar. A couple of years back, he’d bought himself this house. A cape a mile outside of town.
It was small, but super neat, with vinyl and comic book collections meticulously organized and labeled on custom built-in bookshelves.
When he slid a mug over to me, I picked it up right away and took a sip. I carried it with me to Jude’s refrigerator, where I studied the photos. Mixed in with his band’s practice schedule and a flier for RiverFest were several photos of him and Noah, including one where they were white water rafting. A dull ache throbbed in my chest. I’d never done that before, and it looked like they were having a blast together.
“How’s Noah?”
Exhaling, he took off his glasses. While he cleaned them on the hem of his T-shirt, he said nothing, but once he’d slid themback into place, he cleared his throat. “There was a big fire. Back in July.”
My heart leapt into my throat. How had I not heard about this? That was almost six months ago. “Is he okay?”
“Physically? Yes. Minor burns and smoke inhalation. He spent a couple of months doing PT for his lungs, but he’s good.”
“And mentally?”
Head lowered, he gave it a shake. “Not great. He lost a few friends. He won’t talk about it and has been avoiding me. I’m slowly dragging it out of him. But you know Noah. He’s constantly jumping from one thing to the next.”
Noah was more of a concept than a person to me. All I remembered was a boy a few years older than me who was in constant motion, always running, jumping, and disappearing into the woods. He was the risk taker, the kid who’d come home for dinner with a broken collarbone and a cool story.
Jude had always been with him, the cautious, quiet yin to his yang.
