Swear (Landry Family 4)

“Are you lonely?”

“Not really,” he lies. “I got my Westerns here.”

Words escape me as I hold his hand, his skin not as warm as it used to be, nor is it as strong as I remember it being when I was young.

“Look at me,” he says finally. “What have I become? Your mama passed away and I just sit here, day after day, wasting my life away. Hell, I’ll die one of these days, and I don’t even have six friends to carry my casket.”

“Don’t talk about that,” I say, blinking back tears. “You aren’t going to die for a very long time.”

He smiles at me in a way that makes me wonder what he’s thinking and feeling. But I don’t ask. I can’t. I’ll start crying and that’s something he can’t handle.

Slipping his hand out from mine, he pats the top of my knuckles. When he speaks, I can hear the lump in his throat. “Why don’t you go on now? My show is coming back on.”

I stand and kiss his cheek, ruffling his hair with my fingers. “I want you to come see Halcyon this week, okay?”

He just nods.

“I love you, Daddy.”

He nods again and points to his television. I squeeze his shoulder as I head to my car, my heart both heavier and lighter than it was when I walked in.

Ford

THE LATE-MORNING AIR IS A little chilly, the golf green still a little wet with dew. There’s an energy to the day though and it’s not just me. My brothers feel it too.

The day started off with a dream about Ellie, something that is becoming increasingly common since Mallory’s matchmaking attempt.

“I do find it amusing that Dani kicked you out of the house.” Graham grins at Lincoln over the hood of the golf cart.

“She didn’t kick me out. Not exactly.”

“No, she just called me and said, ‘Hey, Ford. Come get your brother for the day before he doesn’t make it to see his newborn child,’” I shrug. “Call it what you want.” I slide my driver out of my golf bag and level up to the tee. My brothers pay no attention to golf etiquette and keep talking behind me as I pull my club back and wallop the ball. It goes sailing.

An easy breeze flows around me, the air smelling like pine on a beautiful Saturday morning.

When I turn around, Lincoln is in the driver’s seat typing away on his phone while Graham watches with a smirk.

“Whatcha doing, Linc?” I ask, exchanging a grin with Graham.

“Just checking on Dani.”

“Mallory is with her,” I laugh. “She’ll be fine.”

His head whips to me with a look of bewilderment on his face. “She’s nine months pregnant, Ford. The baby can come anytime. She needs me. She can’t be doing—”

“She can’t be driven crazy by you,” I tell him. “Seriously, brother. Relax a little bit. Enjoy the time outside, breathing in the fresh air. Once the baby comes . . .”

“We’ll never see you again,” Graham finishes for me. He tugs Lincoln’s hat over his eyes, making it impossible for him to see the phone screen.

“Hey!” Lincoln moans. “Fuck you, G.”

Graham and I chuckle as we climb back on the golf cart, a new fancy ride with four seats. Graham takes the driver’s seat from Lincoln and we make our way to the cart path that leads down the green.

“This is the most nerve-wracking situation of my life,” Linc says, not so much to us, just out loud. “I keep thinking of all the wrong ways this can go. I read a book about delivery and shit and if one little thing goes wrong . . .” He pales.

“Look, Linc. That one thing can go wrong,” I say, trying not to keep a straight face as he looks like he’s going to vomit. “But you know what? The majority of the time everything goes perfectly fine. You need to concentrate on the good that’s going to come out of this.”

“That’s hard to think about right now.”