“I think … baby pink?” I say.
I have no idea which one is baby pink.
“Told you!” McKenna’s fist shoots into the air like she won a contest.
Mom looks at me like I’ve betrayed her.
“Or Spanish?” I say, inching my way toward the living room, walking backward.
“You’re the best brother,” McKenna says with a beaming smile.
“That’s what I’ve always said,” I say.
“Just don’t tell the rest of the guys.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m on my way out to the pasture right now to claim my title: Best Brother.”
I rinse my glass and walk out, kissing the top of McKenna’s head and Mom’s cheek on the way out.
“Either pink will be amazing,” I say. “And no one will care because their eyes will all be on you.”
“Awwww,” my mom and sister say in unison.
On that note, I head out to the pasture to help my brothers with a fence line repair.
Chapter 26
Cody
Birthdays are nature’s way
of telling us to eat more cake.
~ Edward Morykwas
The house isabuzz with activity. The kitchen has been nonstop all day with baking and cooking, stirring, and washing pots and pans.
“I told you to order pizzas and call it good,” I say to my mom.
She’s got flour on her cheek and shirt. Her apron is smeared with something brown—probably juice from the beef, maybe chocolate. I insisted on chocolate cake. It was my only request. I couldn’t care less what cake we have, but Carli loves chocolate.
“It does smell amazing, though,” I say.
“Pizzas? Cody. This isn’t your twelfth birthday.”
I glance into the living room where streamers and heliumballoons are strewn in a festive array. “Not my twelfth? Are you certain about that?”
“We are getting a donkey, so maybe we could play pin the tail on a real donkey,” Garrett jokes from the kitchen table where he’s been relegated to wrapping silverware in napkins and stacking the finished ones in a pile.
I size up the stack and look at Mom. “How many people are actually coming?”
“Well … let’s see. The Buckners. That’s four. The Pattersons. Seven. The Hendersons. Six. The McKeehans. Four. How many is that so far?”
My face blanches. I feel the blood draining.
“Twenty-one, Ma,” Garrett says. “And the guys from the station.”
“I told David to bring the family,” she says. “And I told the guys to bring their girlfriends. Patrick and Dustin. Let’s see.” She looks up at the ceiling. “That would be … Thirty.”
