Chapter 1

Episode 10 - Whistle Down the Wind

“Is anybody actually still on that call?” Harper’s whisper probably hadn’t been meant to come out quite as loud as it did, and Marcus stirred a little and looked up from his tablet with heavy eyelids.

“Hmm?” He blinked rapidly as he glanced around the room, and Brady hid a wince for the rest, if not outright sleep, that he’d obviously been startled out of.

“Nothing, Marcus. Don’t worry about it.” Rachelle’s voice was quiet and soothing, but Marcus seemed to ignore it as he turned his gaze toward Brady and then over at Harper.

“Sorry. Wasn’t trying to wake you up.” Harper shrugged sheepishly. “I just asked if anybody was still on your call.”

“Oh.” Marcus flashed a weak smile as he dropped back against his recliner. “Yeah. Janelle’s busy. Quentin’s not back yet. I’m just—listening to the kids play.”

“Sounds…fun?” Harper’s tone was dubious in the extreme, and Brady chuckled as he glanced over at Grace, who was dressing and arranging her dolls in the corner.

“Can be. If it’s the right kids.”

Dash made a sound through his nose that might have been a scoff or just a hard breath, and Brady glanced toward him for a second before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort of clarification.

“I know it sounds silly.” The wistful look in Marcus’s eyes as he rebalanced his tablet on the arm of the chair pricked Brady’s heart. “It just—it reminds me of home more than anything else. I wasn’t really—really part of it—most days. But I could still—still lay on the couch and—be there, you know?”

Whether anyone else in the room could comprehend the teen’s meaning, Brady wasn’t sure, but he definitely understood it—not so much because he’d experienced it but because he’d longed for it so many times when lying alone in bed, wishing the slightest trigger wouldn’t set him off so he could just be in the same room as Mom or Eden. Of course he would still have missed being able to fully join in, but just the closeness meant so much more than he could explain.

But before he could voice his agreement, Marcus gripped the arms of the chair and arched his back the the way that meant he wanted more air than he was getting, and Brady’s focus narrowed as he carefully sat up.

“Marcus? You okay? Need your inhaler?”

Marcus’s answering groan came out a little breathless, and he shook his head with an effort.

“No. Not sure. Maybe.”

Rachelle leaned forward, but Brady was up already, grabbing the inhaler and shoving it into Marcus’s hands, then hovering over him until he managed to administer the medicine and slumped back into the chair. Brady rubbed his shoulder until the worst of the struggle seemed to be over, then returned to his own couch but continued to watch the teen closely.

“’M okay,” Marcus murmured, but the words ended in a cough, and Dash gave something between a scoff and a growl before Brady could even open his mouth.

“You just went from ‘no’ to ‘definitely’ in about 1.5 seconds, Rookie. Not sure what your scale is, but that doesn’t scream ‘okay’ in my book.”

“He’s not the only one,” Brady muttered under his breath, and Harper snickered.

“Watch yourself, kid. You’re bordering on a consensus here.”

Marcus opened his mouth as if to reply, and Brady speared him with a glare.

“Don’t you dare argue. Or talk right now, period. Got it?”

Marcus made a little frustrated noise that was probably much weaker than he intended but still managed to convey his feelings fairly well.

“Relax, Marcus.” Rachelle leaned back in her own chair again and offered him a sympathetic smile. “And you don’t sound silly at all. I know exactly what you mean. So does Harper, if she takes the time to think about it.”

“Want to bet on that?” Harper’s eyebrows lifted enough to disappear behind her blue bangs, but a hint of curiosity mixed with the skepticism.

“Not me. But if Dash wants to bet on a sure thing, I won’t stop him.” Rachelle’s smile widened a little as she glanced over at Dash, and he turned to Harper with what Brady guessed was meant to be a challenging tilt of his head.

“Never mind.” Harper shook her head, but she sat up a little straighter and scooted forward on her couch. “I know better than to bet against that tone. All right, Midge. Now I really want to know where you’re going with this.”

“Then tell me what you’re doing out here instead of in your room.” Rachelle’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and Harper’s brow furrowed.

“Am I…not supposed to be?”

“Of course you are. It’s your home as much as ours. But that’s the point. We could all retreat to our own rooms—and do when we need to. But there’s something about being out here, with everyone, that pulls all of us like a magnet. We belong here, together. I feel it, and you won’t convince me the rest of you don’t.”

“Okay, but that’s totally different.” Harper’s jaw worked thoughtfully, and Rachelle shook her head.

“It’s really not. We’re family here, for pretty much all practical purposes. And our default is to be with each other, even if nothing special’s happening. Same with the kids running around. It’s noisy and messy, but when it’s just the background noise from where you belong and who you belong with, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“You definitely get it.” Marcus’s words were a whisper, but they ended in a wheeze, and Brady crossed his arms.

“What did I tell you? No talking. Rachelle’s got your defense handled, and I’m pretty sure Harper can’t argue.”

“Pretty sure you underestimate my capacity,” Harper mumbled, but the next instant she grinned before flopping back with her hands behind her head again. “Fine. Still don’t see how a bunch of kids running and screaming count as any kind of relaxing, but you do you, I guess. No judgment.”

Marcus’s smile widened a little, and he started to settle deeper into his chair, then paused to glance down at his tablet and up at Brady.

“Hold on. Not supposed to—talk.”

Before Brady could open his mouth to protest, Marcus was motioning toward him, holding up his tablet with a pleading look. A frown tightened Brady’s forehead as he obeyed the summons, but it smoothed again at the sight of Janelle’s concerned face. With a nod to Marcus, he took the tablet back to his own couch,

“Hey, Janelle. Sorry—Marcus is under orders right now.”

Janelle’s lips moved soundlessly, and Brady groaned as he quickly searched for the settings to disconnect the headphones that Marcus was probably still wearing.

“Sorry. Again. Can you hear me now?”

“I can hear you. Is Marcus all right?”

“Relatively. He’s fighting an attack, but the inhaler seems to be working for now. He’s just under orders not to try to talk.”

“I hope the kids weren’t too much for him.” Janelle’s worried look deepened, and Brady shook his head hard enough that his brain protested.

“Definitely not. He was almost asleep with them in the background. Probably our fault for waking him up.”

He’d meant that to be reassuring, but Janelle craned her neck as though instinctively trying to look past him to Marcus, who wasn’t even visible in the background, and Brady’s heart gave a pang of sympathy. He slid off the couch again and held the tablet up in front of Marcus, hovering near enough to continue the conversation without blocking her view.

“You be careful, baby. You got a way to tell someone if it gets bad?”

Marcus opened his lips as if to answer, then pressed them shut with a sour look and motioned toward Brady with a “watching you” motion. The barest hint of a smile touched the corner of Janelle’s lips, and she shook her head and tapped her heart with her fist.

“All right. We’re about to have to go for supper anyway, so I won’t tempt you anymore. You get some sleep, and I’ll tell Quentin to try for tomorrow, okay? Brady, you’ll make sure someone’s got eyes on him?”

“We absolutely will.” Brady adjusted the camera to focus on his face again as Marcus closed his eyes with a wheeze and a sigh. “His inhaler’s right here, and the doctor’s next door if we need her. You go feed the kids, Janelle. We’ll take care of Marcus for you.” He paused a few seconds, then added in a voice that might have been too low for even Janelle to hear, “He’s family.”