Truth be told, I wish I was friends with Beau again. We didn’t leave things on great terms, but I hoped we could leave it all in the past.
I guess Beau didn’t feel that way.
“Good,” Dylan says. “Because I sure as shit am not going to get stuck in the middle of you two. I’m not taking sides.”
Now, I feel the need to say something. “Dyl, you left family dinner, knowing you’d incur the wrath of our mother to go hang out with him. It feels like you’ve already picked a side.”
“One, I’m letting you live here. That should earn me a shit ton of points. And two, I wanted to give him a heads up that you were going to be working at the shop with us.”
“Why does he get a heads up?” In my head, I know I’m sounding unreasonable. Quite frankly, I sound like a bitch. I’m fully aware of that, but my mouth doesn’t quite know when to quit. I’m like a porcupine when I feel the least bit cornered.
My brother stares at me. “Don’t you wish you had a heads up before running into him at the market?”
He has a point. I hate it when my brother has a point.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Okay, I get it.”
We both sit quietly for a moment. The only sounds in the room are coos from Sadie.
I’m the next one to speak. “So, how is he doing?”
“He’ll be okay.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Look, Jo, it just about killed Beau the first time that you left. Just because you may be ready to mend fences, that doesn’tmean that he is. To make work easier, you two need to either play nice or stay the fuck away from each other. I’m guessing it’ll be the latter.”
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”
I put on a stiff upper lip, but the truth is it fucking sucks knowing Beau and I won’t have what we used to.
Dylan asks, “Do you want me to put Sadie to bed?”
“Nah, I’ll sit with her a while longer. Go cuddle your wife.”
We say our goodnights, and once he’s gone, I look down at Sadie. “Ready to get back to Mr. Reeves?”
I press play again on the movie, but as much as I try to pay attention, all I can do is get lost in memories.
Chapter eleven
Homewrecker
Jo
About ten years ago…
“Die! Die! Die!” I scream at the TV while pounding the buttons on the controller in my hand.
After I’m satisfied everything has been vanquished, I look over to see Beau wearing a particularly concerned expression.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“That was just very…violent.”
“Well, isn’t that the point of the game?”
“It was Mario.”
My face falls. “Sorry, I think I’m trying to take out my anger on the little mushroom people.”
“Jo, they’re not–” He stops himself, realizing we’ve had this conversation many times before, and I’m not going to change my mind and call them anything other than the mushroom people. “Nevermind. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
