Page 103 of Plentywood
“Well, because Mark was gone, I’d imagine,” she answered. “Everything was yanked out from under him. His life wasn’t the same.”
“But why?” I grilled. “Grief is understandable, but why solost, as you mentioned?”
Jill studied me carefully. She wasn’t understanding my question, not realizing why Hunt may have never gotten past the sudden death of her brother. “Because he was sad?” she half asked, half stated. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Ben.”
“I think Hunter is stuck because he doesn’tknowwhat to do now,” I said. “I mean, think about it, Jill. He’s never had to make decisions before. From high school to college. From college to marriage and a house. Hunter depended on Mark to set up each stage of their life. I’m not saying Mark was mean. Far from it, actually. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about your brother, but he led the way during Hunter and his relationship.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “He did do that. Even in high school.”
Jill was seeing the lightbulb that had just been lit in her mind, so I pushed on. “Hunt reluctantly finished college, right?” I asked. She nodded. “I’m guessing that he’d been miserable at college without Mark, right?” She agreed again. “Because Mark was not with him at college, I think Hunt was unsure of himself. But when he returned, he married the person who led the way, the one he loved. And there is nothing wrong with that,” I added.
“And like all of us, Hunter already knew that Mark was a control freak,” she said. “Hunt hates confrontation because he’s mellow by nature. He was fine with Mark leading because Hunter is strong in other things. Mark loved the masculine man that Hunt is, but he did run basically everything about their lives.”
“Can you see what I’m getting at?” I asked.
“Yes. Of course,” she agreed. “God! Why didn’t I see that? Hunter is unsure of what to do now that he’s responsible for his own life,” she added. Her eyes widened, and she made a circle with her mouth. “And all those stupid notes,” she gasped. “And the silly routines he thinks he has to follow. Oh God, Ben. I should’ve known this.”
“He needs help, Jill.”
“Do you love him, Ben?”
“Yes,” I confessed. “I do love him.”
“Can you help him, then? I mean, I know that’s hard if he won’t open up, but we could let him know what we suspect, right? We could do that, right?”
“We, I mean,Icould do that,” I stated. “Give me until tomorrow,” I suggested. “We need to be positive minded with an approach while not attacking him. If I’ve learned anything, Hunt is sensitive to those notes.”
“Hunter loves you so much, Ben. I’ve never seen him like this. And his renewal began when you came to town. I think he truly sees a way forward with you. But I’m positive now that he doesn’t know how to let Mark go. Or if he believes he is even allowed that option without hurting what they shared.”
“He is allowed that option,” I stated. “I just have to help him make that decision.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE: Hunter
Bella stirred and started for the window behind the sofa. I stood and joined her, sliding the blinds to the side.
“Shit!” I muttered, ducking away.
I quickly turned the lights off and crept back to my chair. I didn’t want guests and certainly not this one.
Pounding from the door alarmed Bella, but she knew not to bark if I held my hand toward her. “Open this fucking door, Hunt!”
My hand stayed up and toward Bella. Her eyes went from me and toward the racket coming from my front porch.
“I saw you turn the lights off, asshole,” Charlie yelled, smacking the door again. “I’ll kick the fucker in, Hunt. You know I will. I did it before and I’ll fucking do it again!”
The previous four times he’d stopped by, I’d waited him out. But then again, he didn’t seem this determined on those visits.
“I’m about to kick the door in, dipshit!” he announced. “Open this door! I need to tell you about a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal who just stopped by the station.” I remained as quiet as a mouse. “He’s looking for Ben,” he added.
I jumped off the recliner and hurried to the door, opening it just as Charlie had his leg raised. “Back off, Skeeter.”
Charlie rushed by me and stood in the middle of the living room, glancing around questioningly. “What’s different in here?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled. “What the fuck are you on about?”
Charlie walked to the fridge, still looking around my house like he was confused by something. He opened the fridge and looked inside, turning back to me instantly.
“No beer?”
