Parker Benedict grinned at his twin, copying his brother’s movements with his own cap and cell phone. “Both of those openings have the advantage of not being Benedict spreads,” he said. “And moving to Missoula will get us the hell away from this freaking war zone our family has turned into.”
“All true. So why are we not jumping on either of those opportunities, brother? Why are we both so reluctant?” Dale ran his hand through his hair, a tell Parker recognized. His brother did that whenever he felt frustrated or confused.
“I don’t know. Maybe Missoula isn’t far enough away?”
They stopped talking when the waitress came to their table ready to take their orders. He and Dale didn’t eat out all that often, and rarely at lunchtime. Both were passable cooks, and in the week since they’d been on their own, they’d mostly taken turns at the stove for supper. Before they’d moved out of the family ranch, they’d preferred to stay in after a long day’s work.
But the reality of living in an apartment in the big city of Billings, Montana—when they were both born and bred for ranch life—had them both feeling just a little bit claustrophobic.
That feeling, which had sent them out for lunch today, reminded him of when they’d been in college. They’d shared an apartment here in the city then too, though it had been closer to school. Well, we did until Dad gave us a hard time about ignoring our familial duties and we moved home for our last three years. That had been fun—not—putting in hours of ranch work before and after hours of college work each day. They had hated the closed-in feeling of their apartment that first year but had loved the relative freedom of living away from the family.
That same need to escape that closed-in feeling compelled them, after they’d poured through the newspapers earlier, to get out for lunch. And while they were older than when they’d attended college, the sense of freedom brought on by being away from the family was just as sweet. He loved his family but hated the way they behaved.
Parker realized the waitress was looking at him, pen poised, waiting to take his order. Hell, he hadn’t even heard what Dale had chosen.
“I’ll have the twelve-ounce rib-eye, medium rare, and a side of twice baked potato, and I’ll have a Coke, please.” The steak might be more than a lunch-sized cut, but that twice-baked potato was one of his favorite sides.
“You two must be brothers.” The waitress grinned. “You’re having the same lunch.”
Parker gave her his smile in return for hers. “Yes, ma’am. We’re twins, actually. Just a couple of plain ol’ cowboys.”
The waitress snickered, rolled her eyes, and then headed off to place their orders.
Jake’s Steaks was nothing fancy and had been here for years. It didn’t draw a ritzy crowd. But the food was always good and plentiful, and that was all he and his brother really cared about. Parker waited until they were alone again.
“I’d wondered if you felt it too. Do you think our quitting a couple of weeks ago is the reason we’re hesitating? Do you think we secretly want to go back home?”
“No, I don’t.” Dale looked down at his cell phone for a moment. When he looked at Parker again, his confusion showed. “Maybe our hesitation is because what we’re really looking for isn’t a job. Or, rather, isn’t just a job.”
Parker sat back and considered his brother. “No, you’re right. It’s deeper than just a job, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I know this question is going to sound hokey as hell, but Parker, if you could have anything in the world—anything at all—what would it be?”
He knew Dale was hoping he’d put into words that same “something’s missing” sense he was likely feeling himself.
For once, Parker set aside the bullshit and the posturing that came so easy to him. A posturing that had as much to do with his being a male as his being a Benedict male.
“Working, making our way, that’s nothing. I mean, neither of us have ever had any grand career ambitions. We’re ranchers, and we can work anywhere doing practically anything as long as we’re ranching. Jobs are interchangeable, you know? But family? Hell, man, we don’t even know what real family is. What would I wish for if I could have anything in the world? It would be to have a home, a family, a place to live where people are decent to each other, where there’s no such thing as alternative facts, and those around you want to build you up instead of tear you down all the damn time.”
Dale sighed. “Yeah, me too. You don’t think we’re kind of living in a fantasy world, do you, Parker? Wanting all that?”
“Hell, bro, I hope not. I really, really hope not.”
The waitress delivered their drinks—they’d both opted for Cokes—and then, just a few minutes later, their steaks and twice-baked potatoes were laid before them.
Parker picked up his utensils and cut into his steak. The beef was done just the way he liked it. Taking that first bite, he closed his eyes and savored the flavor. There wasn’t anything better than good beef done right. He opened his eyes and tucked right into his meal.
Parker was barely half way through his lunch when he caught a glimpse of a woman who’d entered the restaurant and was being led to a seat—a seat near them—by the hostess.
“Shit.” He’d whispered that one word, hoping his wide-eyed stare at Dale would warn him.
The woman was led to the booth directly behind theirs. He didn’t feel the pressure of her sitting, so he figured she must have sat down on the opposite bench. Thank God, the seat backs were high. Otherwise, she’d get a full-on look at Dale.
“Seven and seven. I’m expecting a friend.” The woman’s voice, a particularly grating tone not helped by her curtness, was kind of hard to mistake for anyone else’s.
What the
