The Better Brother

I’d heard a few locals talk about it whenever I had to go into town. They talked about how the cabins were beautiful, but they also talked about how loud the families were. Rich families and people getting away would descend onto the resort and ham it up. They’d clog up the local restaurants, trying to experience “local Gatlinburg” life, when all they really wanted to do was buy a designer pair of boots.

The locals complained that it flooded their town with “city folk,” but I saw it a bit differently. It would have been the life I lived had things not gone south in the Navy.

I drove by the back road that skirted the property and studied the log cabins. They were put together well and I could tell they had all the common luxuries of high-class society. Ample electricity, central heating, massive windows that you could see into, chandeliers hung from the ceilings, and there were probably walk-in saunas and shit like that.

At another point in my life, I would’ve loved shit like that.

But not anymore. I wandered around the back end of the resort and finally came to what I thought was the front of it. I had to stop at a small little stop sign to get to the main road, but I had to wait until some people crossed my path. A mother was walking with her fully-grown sons while the father lugged all their luggage. There was a couple holding hands who couldn’t stop kissing one another long enough to cross the damn road.

And then there was a woman: one lone woman looking down at her feet.

She couldn’t have been older than twenty-eight and she was dressed as if she worked in the corporate sector. She had long blonde hair that looked perfectly styled. The sun reflected off the top of her head and almost made it look like she was glistening.

I wondered what her story was. What in the world was a woman like herself doing at a resort that tailored itself to families? Surely, she needed some money to stay at a place like this, which probably accounted for the way she was dressed. Her dark red pea coat covered her e

ntire body but I could see her black work pants and her black heeled boots peeking out from beneath the fabric.

A beauty like her didn’t need to be walking with her shoulders slumped and head down.

My phone rang in my shirt pocket, ripping me from my thoughts, and I started back into town while I answered it. I knew there was only one person who would be calling me because, well, he was the only person who had my number.

And it was about damn time I heard from him.

“Paxton,” I said. “It’s about damn time.”

“Canter, what’s crackin’?” he asked.

“Nothin’ much. Just driving into town for some milk.”

“Preparing for that harsh winter or something?” he asked.

“Well, I do hear the locals talking about it sometimes. And the weather forecasts aren’t too pretty, either.”

“At least you’re getting into town. I was worried you’d coop yourself up in that cabin and never come out.”

“A man’s gotta eat,” I said, grinning.

“Especially when he’s as massive as you.”

“So, what’s going on with you?” I asked. “How are the guys?”

“Well, me and some of the guys are actually preparing for another deployment,” he said.

My hand gripped the phone a bit too tightly.

“Another deployment?” I asked. “You sure you’re up for somethin’ like that?”

“I mean, I need to get my mind off things. I need to show myself that not every deployment will turn out like our last one. All I’m doing here is sitting at a fucking desk, pushing papers and twiddling my fucking thumbs, man. I can’t do it anymore.”

“So, you volunteered for this one?” I asked.

“I did, and they gladly gave it to me. They’ve put me on a ship headed toward the scheduled war games this year, but don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“Yeah, keep that shit to yourself,” I said, grinning.

“Oh, dude.”

“What?” I asked.