Walk (Gentry Boys) by Cora Brent Page A

from the rest of the group with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.  Apparently not all the Gentrys were eager to forgive and forget whatever trouble Conway had caused the last few years.  Creed’s wife noticed and took his arm, trying to lead him away.  From what I knew of Creed he wasn’t the type to pull punches. If he didn’t have anything pleasant to say to Conway then he wasn’t willing to say anything at all. 
    Cord took Chase aside and whispered something that caused Chase to look at over at me.  I stood up.  It was time to crack the four years of thick ice that had been collecting between me and my brother. 
    Conway beat me to it though.  As soon as he noticed that I was going to head in his direction he shoved his bottle of liquor at one of the girls and started to walk my way.  When the girl whined an objection he barked, “If you don’t fucking like it, go wait in the damn car.  Both of you.” 
    I saw everything that was happening.  I saw Deck standing guard like a dark, muscled wraith.  I saw Saylor reach the pouting girls and invite them to sit down to eat.  I saw Evie watching me from a sea of children and ice cream spoons.  I saw all this and I still saw every step my brother took as he crossed the yard. 
    “Hey,” Conway nodded at me as if we’d just seen each other last Tuesday. 
    “Hey.”  In spite of all the bitterness, anger and loss I wanted to grab the guy up in a bear hug.
    Conway, however, looked like he wanted a hug about as much as he wanted an enema.  He spat on the ground, switched his baseball cap around and then crossed his arms, rocking back slightly on his heels. 
    “So you’re out,” he said casually. 
    “You didn’t know?”
    “I knew.” 
    I took a cautious step in his direction then held out my hand. 
    Con let out a snort of laughter and shook his head.  The he suddenly grinned and accepted the handshake. 
    “Been a long time,” he said, still grinning. 
    “It has.” 
    “You got big as a fucking shithouse, man.” 
    “Two main pastimes in prison are lifting weights and thinking too much.” 
    “Yeah, I’ll bet,” Conway grunted and then took a seat on the bench I’d been sitting on with Evie. 
    I sat carefully beside him, not too close. I searched for something profound to say.  It seemed I’d always kept a collection of speeches I would give my brother when we were finally face to face again.  I couldn’t remember a word of any of them. 
    “You look good,” I finally managed to say.  “You doing okay these days?”
    Con glanced over at Deck, who was now consulting with Cord and Chase. They were all trying to make it seem like they weren’t watching us. 
    “I’m fantastic.”
    “Is that true?”
    His eyes narrowed.  “Have you heard differently, Stone?” 
    There was something jarring about hearing him say my name again.  A million memories.  A million echoes. 
    “I haven’t heard a damn thing, Con.  Not a damn thing in four years.” 
    Con’s right hand balled into a fist.  “Right.  Can’t possibly be reasons for that.”   
    “I understand the reasons, little brother.” 
    “Don’t fucking call me that.  I’m not the same little turd who used to chase after you, cover for you, defend you.”
    I took a deep breath.  “I wrote you letters, Con.  So many letters.  Do you read any of them?”
    Con unclenched his fist.  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cigarette, which he took his time about lighting.  Funny.  I used to smoke, not him.  He was always complaining that my bad habit stunk up our bedroom. 
    Now, he exhaled and deliberately blew a ring of smoke at the sky.  It wasn’t so funny after all. 
    “Maybe,” he shrugged. 
    “If you had then you’d know.  You’d know that Erin and I never-“
    “Don’t,” he hissed as he crushed the cigarette in his palm.  “Don’t you ever fucking say her name out loud where I can hear.” 
    “It was an accident,