Taking Aim

He walked up to her and said to all of them, "Look at this. Three beautiful ladies standing together."

Donna stretched out one arm and gave Brandon the best hug she could while holding her daughter.

"You did it! Congratulations, B-man!"

Isabella said, "Mommy says you're rich now. Are you?"

He and Donna laughed while Jaycee stood there smiling and waiting her turn.

"Not exactly, sweetie pie. But I can afford to buy you that new dollhouse you've been wanting."

He looked at Donna then said, "If it's okay with your mom."

"Well, we'll see," Donna told them knowing she'd give in.

Brandon looked at Jaycee then said, "I'm glad you came."

"Me, too," she said sweetly. "And congratulations. I only saw the last ga...leg or so, but you were awesome."

Donna excused herself and walked over to Will to let them talk, and Brandon asked her what changed her mind.

"Oh, um...I uh, I just decided to come check it out for a few minutes. That's all. Nothing big."

She wasn't about to tell him she'd waited until her husband passed out from drinking the way he did most nights now before leaving. She knew he'd be furious if he woke up and found out, but she rarely left the house except to go to work or buy groceries or pay a bill, many of which were often past due these days. So curiosity had gotten the best of her and she'd risked leaving to watch someone she barely knew play a game she didn't understand.

"I'm glad. Whatever the reason is, thank you for coming," he told her.

"This was actually fun," she said, her pretty smile back.

"So it didn't put you to sleep?" he teased.

"Every time my eyelids got heavy someone cheered and woke me up," she teased back.

Brandon laughed and asked if he could get her anything from the grill.

"Oh, no thank you. I really need to get home," she told him.

Brandon could tell something wasn't right, but he knew better than to ask. He rightly assumed it had something to do with the monster she lived with, and left it at that.

"Can I walk you out?" he asked just as the announcer called out his name and asked him to come up for the presentation of the trophy and the first-place prize money.

He looked at her, then the announcer, then back at her when she said. "Go on. It's okay. I'll wait."

The presentation was short and sweet, and just like that, Brandon Green was $25,000 better off, less the 40% held back for state and federal taxes. Even so, it was a pretty decent night's work for someone with no real responsibilities.

Jaycee was waiting for him when he came back holding the trophy.

"I can now honestly say I know a champion professional athlete," she said as she smiled at him while admiring the trophy.

Brandon chuckled and said, "I'm not sure I qualify as an athlete, but thank you just the same."

"Well...I'm impressed," she told him very authoritatively.

He ignored the compliment and told her, "Come on. Now I can walk you out. If you don't mind, of course."

"Not at all, but don't you need your coat?" she asked putting herself into his shoes as it were.

"Nah, it's still above freezing so I'll be fine," he told her even though he was in short sleeves.

"I wear mine anytime it gets below 50," she said.

"That's shorts and tee-shirt weather," Brandon quipped.

"No, it has to get to at least 75 for that, and preferably 80," she informed him. "I break out the sweaters as soon as it goes below 70."

"Someone needs to move to Florida or California," he said jokingly.

Jaycee didn't say anything, but the way she looked down at his comment said a lot.

"Do you ever think about that?" Brandon asked, his tone now very serious.

"About moving to Florida?" she asked.

He was torn as to whether to say what he was thinking, and although he knew full well he'd been right earlier about her making her own decisions, the thought of her staying with this guy irked him to end.

"No. Not exactly," he began. "I mean...moving in general," he said as a way of kind of probing to see if leaving the man she lived with was a possibility. Not because he was interested, but because it pained him to think of her dealing with that day in and day out.

"Oh, no. I don't think my husband would ever live anywhere else," she said, still not having looked at him or getting his drift.

His rational mind told him to leave it alone, but he couldn't.

"Jaycee. I think you know I meant moving as in...moving without him. I also know it's none of my business, but you're such a great person, and he's not exactly..."

"He's just under a lot of stress. That's all," she said unconvincingly before finally looking at him.

They were now standing next to her car, and Brandon decided to not push the issue any further.

"I really am glad you came," he told her.

"Me, too. I never thought of darts as being fun or even playing it, for that matter. But when I watched you playing, it seemed very enjoyable."

"I'd be happy to teach you how to throw," he said.

"Oh. No. I don't think that would be such a good idea," she said immediately as she stopped smiling and looked down again.

"Ah. Yes. Right," he said knowing exactly what she meant and why.

"Well, goodnight then," he told her.

"Goodnight, Brandon. And congratulations. That's just so amazing."

He closed her door then waited until she was safely on the move before heading back inside.

"What is a woman like that doing with an asshole like him?" he said again to himself as he opened the large glass door and stepped back into the warmth.

Brandon left the following day and flew back to Minnesota. The last time he really thought about Jaycee was when Will was backing them out of the driveway to take him to the airport.

As he did, Brandon asked, "What's the deal with the neighbors?"

"What deal?" Will asked as he backed out.

"How is a beautiful woman like Jaycee with that...fat bastard of a husband?"

"Ah, that. Yeah. Well, I don't know the whole story. Donna's talked to her a couple of times, but he keeps her on a very tight leash. I think Jaycee's been in our home once in all the time we've lived next to them, and Donna's never been in her house. But she did tell me she thought her old man got pissed when he found out she came over the one time. Anyway, I guess he had a pretty decent job installing security systems then got laid off several years back. I don't know how long the heavy drinking's been going on, but the recycle bin is filled with empty beer cans and whiskey bottles every week. It's none of my business, but I can't help feeling bad for her."

"Yeah. It doesn't add up," Brandon replied.

"You think he does more than just yell at her?" Will asked.

"I can't say. But from the two minutes I spent around him, it wouldn't surprise me. I mean, he scared the shit outta me, and I'm six-feet tall."

"Yeah, but you weight like a buck-fifty, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. Screw you," Brandon said before they both laughed.

He didn't weigh 150 but at 165 he was a little on the thin side for his height. Still, he and his brother were both good-looking guys with great hair and amazing smiles, and that was mostly what women looked at when sizing a guy up. At least initially, anyway. Being attractive gave one the benefit of the doubt, and until he proved otherwise, women were willing to assume the best. With guys not so fortunate they tended to have to prove themselves in terms of offering other qualities before being able to attract a potential mate. Even then, there were women who were so much more attractive they wouldn't give them the time of day unless they had, say, millions of...reasons...for the woman to do so.

Will gave his brother a real hug at the airport and told him how great it was seeing him again and told him not to be a stranger.

"I'll try, man," Brandon told him. "I want to be a part of Isabella's life so I'm gonna do my best to get back here whenever I can."

"Yeah, right," Will said, sure his brother wouldn't be back their way again anytime soon.

Brandon thought about arguing the point, but knew there was no need because Will was probably right.

****

Six months later

"Shit hot, Mate! I don't think I've ever seen anyone throw so many 180s in all my life."

The Australian smiled at him then said, "Especially not a Yank."

The young American smiled back and said, "Thanks. Coming from you, that means a lot."

"I'm still not quite sure how I let you beat me, but you won, fair and square."

"First pint's on me if you're drinking."

"If I'm drinking? I'm an Aussie, Mate. Hell yeah, I'm drinkin'! And it's for damn sure you're buying!"

Brandon Green had just turned 25 six weeks ago, and after years of practice and hard work, had just won his first major darts tournament after finishing as the runner-up two out of the last four events. He'd won smaller, local events before, but this was his first big win.

The 38-year Australian was last year's reigning champion in darts' biggest event, The Champion League of Darts or CLD, held in Cardiff, Wales. He was a legend in the sport and had won more tournaments and more money than any player in the history of the game.

In order to compete in the CLD, one had to be ranked in the top eight players in the world, and with this win in Sydney, Brandon had an excellent shot at finally making the cut. He was currently number ten, and depending how other players close to him did in the two remaining qualifying events, he might just get his first shot at making some real money.

He'd be pocketing 20,000 Euros for this win which worked out to around $24,000 US. The winner of the CLD, however, took home £100,00 British which was just shy of $135,000 US. The runner-up would earn half that amount.

Brandon was now quite possibly the best American in the sport, and many who followed the game were beginning to watch as he continued moving up in the rankings.

Brandon started playing when he was eight years old after his parents bought him a dart set for Christmas. Over the years, his interest in the game grew, and after watching a tournament on ESPN when he was 12, he told his dad he was going to be on TV one day throwing darts.

His father not only didn't laugh, he bought him a tournament dartboard and a set of expensive, tournament-level darts, and with that, Brandon set out to make a name for himself.

By the time he turned 18, he'd won several local tournaments and made a couple thousand dollars in prize money. After graduating from high school roughly seven years ago, he began entering tournaments around the US with the help of his dad, William Green, Senior, who was his biggest fan and supporter, funding his son's travel and room and board. When work allowed his father traveled with him, but this trip to The Land Down Under was one his father couldn't make.

By this point, he'd made enough money to more than pay his father back and put a fair aside for his future.

Brandon had also had his fair share of romantic encounters both during high school and after going on the road playing darts. His good looks, coupled with his easy-going-but-confident personality, made him a hit with young ladies all across the country and around the world. Not because they were 'dart groupies' (something that didn't exist) but because he was more than attractive enough to pick up girls and women wherever he went.

During this latest tournament in Sydney, he'd become very good 'friends' with a 22-year old Australian lass named Becky who'd been rocking his world every night after Brandon rocked the dart board during the evenings.

Two hours and four beers after winning the tournament, Becky pried Brandon away from the pub, and just before he left, he shook hands again with the older man he'd beaten for the first time.

"Good luck to ya, Yank!" the man told him. "But next time, you won't be so lucky!"

"There's no luck involved," Brandon told him with a friendly smile. "It's all in the wrist."

"Wrist my arse!" the man bellowed with a loud laugh. "Go on now. Give that Sheila a good shagging for me, you hear?"

"Oh, he will!" Becky said answering for him.

Another hour later Becky had been dutifully shagged and was trying to get a second 'go' out of her handsome dart player/lover when his phone rang.

"I need to take this," he said as she tried to keep him from answering as she worked to 'bring him to life' a second time.

"Dad? What's going on?" he said with concern when caller ID showed it was his father on the other end.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this over the phone, buddy, but I've got bad news," his father said somberly.

Brandon sat bolt upright and asked, his voice already dry, "Is it Mom?"

"No. No, it isn't your mother. It's...your brother. Will. And Donna."

Brandon's heart stopped as he asked, "Are they...did they..."

"There was a terrible car accident a few hours ago. I just got a call from the state police out in Washington. It took them a while to track down a family member, but they got ahold of Donna's parents in Seattle who gave them our number. The police just called us and gave us the news."

"Oh, my God. What about Isabella?" Brandon asked, barely able to speak.

Isabella was now four years old and his only niece. She was a sweet, beautiful little girl, and the thought of something happening to her made him feel even more ill.

"She's okay. She was buckled in tight in her carseat in the back. We're going out there to get her in a few days. I have to get time off work, but as soon as I can, we're going to to go pick her up."

"So Will and Donna. Are they..."

There was a long pause, and Brandon could hear his father swallow hard.

"Yes. Both of them," he finally managed to say.

"Jesus. Shit! Dad, I...I can't believe this. It's so...surreal."

"I'm afraid it's very real, son."

"How are you doing, Dad?" Brandon asked, his voice quivering far more than his father's.

"I'm still in shock or something close to it. I didn't know what else to do except call you."

"What about Mom?"

"She's my rock. Like always. She's the one insisting we take Isabella in. I mean, that's what Will wanted. As you well know Donna's parents are in no condition to care for her, and there are no other siblings so...it has to be me and your mom."

"Wow. I don't know what to say. You and Mom were just getting ready to retire and start traveling, and now you're starting a new family," Brandon said, his voice hollow and devoid of emotion.

"Life is about priorities, son," his dad managed to say.

"I know, Dad. You taught me that by example my whole life."

Looking for a reason to change the subject, Will, Sr., asked, "Oh, gosh. I completely forgot. How'd you do?"

There was a pause before Brandon said, "I won."

"Seriously?" his dad said, the excitement that should have been there absent from his voice. "That is so amazing. I'm really proud of you, buddy."

"Thanks, Dad. It just seems so...trivial. You know, compared to what happened."

"No, I hear you. I really am in shock, and I'm not thinking clearly. But I am proud of you. That's just...amazing."

"I uh, I should probably let you go, Dad," Brandon said.

"Yeah. We've got a lot to think about, and even more to do before we fly out to Seattle two days from now."

"Where's Isabella right now?"

"Child Protective Services has her. Poor thing is probably scared to death."

Brandon felt like he was going to throw up for a moment, then suddenly, everything became very clear.

"Dad? I'm taking the next flight home. We'll talk then, okay?"

"Oh. Sure. Sounds good, son. You be safe, okay?"

"I will."

There was another pause, then Brandon could sense his dad was choking up again before he said, "I love you, buddy."

Brandon knew why immediately and said, "I love you, too, Dad. And tell Mom I love her, okay?"

"One more thing. Since Donna's family lives there, we'll be able to stay in Will's house for as long as we need to. We'll have to figure out what to do with it down the road, but for now it's available, okay?"

"Um, yeah. Sure. That'll help," Brandon replied. "I uh, I guess I'll see you soon."

"What's with all the lovey-dovey bullshit?" Becky asked once he hung up, motioning for him to come back to bed.

As politely as he could he said, "It might be best if we called it a night."

Becky sat up and said, "What? You're throwing me out? Are you shitting me?"

"Sorry. I just got some bad news. A death in the family. Two deaths, actually."

She laid down, turned on her side knowing her firm breasts wouldn't droop then said, "You're turning down another chance to shag this? Sorry, Mate, but you can't do anything for the dead. Dead is dead. But I'm alive and ready for you to f..."

"Get out," he said quietly but in no uncertain terms.

Becky sat back up, threw her legs over the side then grabbed her underwear and headed for the bathroom. A minute later she came out and said, "Go fuck yourself, and when I say 'self', I mean you can stay here and wank that pathetic little pee pee of yours alone!"

He knew she was angry, and he also knew there was nothing pathetic about that part of his anatomy. He'd never be a porn star, but he was clearly in the above-average range. But if she couldn't understand his need to be alone, she wasn't worth spending time with anyway.

Sadly, like so many other girls that age, or even under 30 in general, for that matter, it was always all about them and their wants and their needs. He'd just about had it with them, but for now, he couldn't think about anything but the horrible news he'd just received.

Once she was gone he quickly showered then grabbed his phone and called the airline as he got dressed and packed his things. There was a non-stop flight from Sydney to Seattle leaving in three hours, and he booked himself on it before hastily grabbing his suitcases and heading downstairs where he checked out and asked for a cab.

On the way to the airport and during the entire flight home, his thoughts turned to his niece sleeping in some strange bed in some strange building with strangers all around her. It seemed almost certain she would be crying and inconsolable, wanting to know where Mommy and Daddy were and why she couldn't go home and see them.

The hours dragged on during the flight back to the States, and just before they landed in Seattle, he made a decision. After clearing customs he called his father again and let him know he'd arrived.

"Do you know where they kept the spare key?" his dad asked.

"Yeah. It's in a little rock-like clamshell thing in the corner of the flower bed."

"Yep. That's the place. They own the house outright thanks to your grandparents so until the utility bill isn't paid or their property taxes don't get taken care of, things should be the way they always were. Will was always prompt about paying bills, just keep in mind anything's possible at this point."

Neither of them said to the other, "With the one little exception of the two people who are dead returning there again."

"When is the funeral, Dad?" Brandon asked.

"In four days. And your mom and I will be getting in around 3pm tomorrow."

"I'll come pick you up in which ever car wasn't involved in the accident," Brandon told him.

"That would be Donna's. The keys are in the bedroom on the dresser."

Brandon knew that so he didn't reply. Instead he took a deep breath then let his dad know what he'd been thinking and planned to do.

"Son, you can't do that. You're 25 years old and you're not even married. That's admirable, but please think long and hard about this."

"I have, Dad. I know they won't let me have her when I show up, but I'm going to go visit her and then once you get custody, I want to get custody and then adopt her."

"Let's talk about this after you've had some time to think, okay?" his dad said as politely as he could so as not to sound patronizing or condescending.