Page 131 of On His Mind

I’m already turning back for the driveway.

Stanley’s truck is last, and Stanley comes out of nowhere the way he always does, hooking an arm around my neck hard enough to rock me sideways.

“My favorite Hawthorne brothers!” He’s shouting, though I’m right there under his arm. Benson’s halfway up the porch and gets it too. “How was the summer? Because you would not believe mine.”

“We heard about yours every day,” Benson calls back, glancing at me. “He uses text messages like a diary.”

Stanley ignores him and snaps his fingers, pointing at me. “I could use your services, Pers.”

I nod, glad thatMon Petit Percyis a thing of the past.

“Grab those, would you?” Stanley says, already moving.

I reach into his backseat and drag out a couple of duffels stuffed with gear. They nearly pull my arm out of the socket.

“Jesus,” I mutter.

“Three houses down,” Stanley says, jerking his chin up the row, “there’s a Linwood.”

I look down the street.

He grins like he’s been waiting all afternoon for me to catch up.

“The coach who trained you all summer?” I ask.

“Someone’s been reading the texts and not replying.”

I chuckle.

He says, “His note taker lives down there. And someone just laughed. Out loud. What the hell happened to you this summer, Deveroux?”

“Nothing,” I say.

“Loneliness’ll kill a man,” he says, light as anything, and then he’s already three steps ahead of me, taking the porch two at a time.

Inside, Blue and Rowan are crouched at the TV with a tangle of cords between them.

“I took the downstairs room,” I say.

Stanley’s head snaps around to Rowan. “That means you’re up top with us, buddy.”

“Should we mount this on the wall?” Rowan says, not turning around.

“No. I hate cranking my neck up at a screen.”

“It’s better for the—”

“You don’t even play on it. Not your call.” Stanley’s already heading for the stairs. “Pers. This way.”

I follow him up with an armload of his stuff. Rowan’s still gesturing at the wall behind us, Blue holding a cord and ignoring him completely, and the noise of it fills the whole downstairs.

Stanley stops in his bedroom doorway and turns, with a big, wide-open grin across his face. “This is going to be our year, Pers. I can feel it in my bones.”

I set his bags down and nod.

“We’re gonna make it a good one,” he says.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Anything else?”