“I like Lulu,” he says.
“Well, that’s good. Didn’t matter if you didn’t.”
“She’s perfect for you.”
“I know.”
“But I’m sure someone thought Mom and Dad were perfect for each other before they were married, and look at how they turned out.”
I place my hand on Liam’s shoulder, trying to console my brother. “Not every relationship ends like theirs, Liam. I won’t let their mistakes guide my future. I want to be married to Lulu. I want to make a family. I want however many years I have left on this planet with the woman I love.”
“Will I still be your family?” he asks, his lips turned down as he can barely meet my gaze.
“You’ll always be my family. You’re not losing a brother. You’re gaining a sister.”
“Fuck. I never wanted one of those. They’re so bossy.”
“My sons,” Mom says, stepping into the room before I have a chance to leave.
Everyone is waiting downstairs, and the wedding is set to start in fifteen minutes. The sunset won’t wait for anyone, especially my family and their relationship issues.
“You both look so handsome,” she says, touching Liam’s cheek before kissing mine.
“Can we walk and talk?” I ask her, glancing down at my watch.
“Oh yes. We can’t be late,” she replies and walks back toward the door.
I take my mom’s arm as soon as we’re in the hallway, the door slamming behind us. I hate hotels. It’s impossible to get any sleep because everything needs to seal shut like it’s Fort Knox.
“Are you nervous?” Mom asks.
“Not a bit, but he is.” I tick my chin in Liam’s direction.
“He’s always a bundle of energy. He has been since the day he was born. Sometimes good, but usually bad.”
“I can hear you,” Liam gripes, smashing his finger into the elevator button.
“Maybe he’ll get married soon,” Mom says.
Liam turns and shakes his head. “Not a chance. I’m too young for that.”
“Too dumb too,” I add, teasing my brother.
“Sharla doesn’t want to get married either,” he adds.
“Sharla isn’t the type of woman you marry,” Mom tells him, saying what we all think but don’t say. “But you’re not the type of man a woman wants to marry either.”
“What’s that mean?” Liam asks her as the elevator doors open.
We step inside and I hope the conversation is going to end, but of course it doesn’t.
“You’re too into a good time. You party too much, and you’re more led around by the thing between your legs than what’s in that head of yours.”
“Oh, his head leads him, just not the right one,” I say, thinking I’m being cute, but the look my mother gives me says otherwise.
“I’m too young,” Liam says, jamming his finger against the lobby button harder than he did to get the elevator to our floor. “Give me ten years.”
“You’ll be in your forties then,” Mom says, shaking her head.
