Chapter 44
“The Secret Train is now arriving on Track: Suck It.”
-Flint
“How long has he been like this?” My brother asked the bartender.
“Pretty much since he got here,” the other man answered. “Y’all don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Me and the missus have a date with Netflix and Chill if you catch my drift.”
“We got it,” my sister chimed in.
I raised my head off the sticky bar. Two of my brothers and two of my sisters stood beside two ofmy mortal enemies.
“What thefuzzy sweatersare you two doing here?” I pointed at the two bastards with their arms around my sisters.
Sisters? I only had one sister, right? Who was that other one?
I blamed this all on my friend Jack. Or was it Johnnie? I couldn’t remember which whiskey got me in trouble this time.
“Okay, big bro, how about we take you home?” Fitch’s arms tried to lift me out of my seat.
Joke’s on him. I was a heavyson of a fluffernutter.
Mmm. Fluffernutter. That sounded good right about now.
“Jos-eks on you-be-doobie,” I booped my brother on the nose. “I’m too flipping heavy-pants.”
I laughed maniacally, then tipped back my glass. Nothing.
“Someone stole my whisssskey!” I hollered at the bartender. He flipped me the bird.
Why do they call it flipping you the bird? It looks more like a pole. Maybe we could start calling it erecting the pole or something?
Heh. Heh. Erecting a pole.
“Jesus, he’s shitfaced,” my two sisters complained. Wait. When I closed one of my eyes, there was only one Adlen. And she lookedbaddie-mad.Mad-Len. Bad-Len.
“I’m notfit-chased, BAD-len,” I swatted away her hands. “I’m drowning my sorrows. Big ole Fattie McFatterson difference.”
“What’s gotten into you?” There was only one Fitch when I closed my left eye, and he got into my face. “Why aren’t you swearing like a sailor?”
“Sugar Honey Iced Tea!” I slammed my hand down on the bar. “Some people don’t have toswearzy-swearto get theirpantsacross.”
“Pants?”
“I think he means points,” Quinn Dorsey stepped up on the other side of me, nodded to my brother, then they both tried to lift me out of my seat.
I giggled. Giggled! In my defense, their hands in my armpits tickled. The laughter died on my tongue when I thought of the last person to tickle me.
I shook my head, wrapped my feet around the barstool, and held firm. “She’s gone. She left me. They always leave me.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, brother?” Fitch patted my face. “Talk to me.”
I looked into his green eyes, the twins to our Mama’s eyes. “Celia. Left. Me. Just like Celeste.”
Quinn sighed and sat down on the barstool next to me. “Celeste didn’t leave you, Flint. She died. There’s a big difference.”
I turned to him, swallowed down decades of pride, and leveled my drunken gaze and my finger at his face. “She was pregnant and leaving me when she died, Quinn. The baby wasn’t mine. She cheated on me, got pregnant, and thatsock cuckerdidn’t want anything to do with them. I asked her to marry me. I knew it wasn’t mine, but I was going to do the right thing for her. Somebody had to.”
