I sighed, turning the light off and starting the engine. The drive was silent, or maybe my brain was screaming too loudly at my shit choices that I couldn’t hear the radio.
My brothers were sitting on the porch nursing a round when I pulled up in the truck and turned off the engine. The overhead fans moved lazily in the evening breeze, and I shoved one hand in my pocket as Mark lifted his beer in greeting. I raised two fingers and rubbed the back of my neck, my boots crunching on the gravel as I walked up the steps and lowered my stiff body to the comfortable white wooden swing.
Maverick reached into a small cooler between his feet and removed a beer, twisting the top and passing it to me. He raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, reminding me of our dad. Of the four of us, Maverick got his mannerisms—and his eyes. Him, creeping on the tail end of forty, only highlighted the similarities, and I rubbed the center of my chest, taking a long drink of the cold, frothy liquid.
“Dad would have loved the renovations to the house, Mark,” I said, motioning with my beer to the freshly painted wrap-around porch and brightly colored shutters.
“Dad would have tried to wire the porch fans himself and started a small electrical fire,” Magnum said, laughing as our eyes flicked to the fans.
“That’s why Mom insisted on a fire extinguisher in every room,” I said, feeling lighter as laughter permeated the night air.
“I still do.” Mark tilted his rocking chair back and reached underneath the low-sitting table to remove a small red extinguisher. Our laughter increased, and I raised my beer in a silent toast to the man as we clinked bottles and drank deep. I put the empty bottle on the table, and Maverick groaned and reached into the cooler again to hand me a second. I nodded my thanks and pressed the cold bottle to my forehead.
“Rough day?” he asked, passing a beer to Magnum. Mark declined another, and I took a moment to savor the liquid before answering.
“That’s an understatement.”
“Well?” Mark said, leaning back in the rocking chair. “I’ll take any excuse not to discuss baby shit and the shelf life of breast milk.”
“Damn, dude.” I chuckled, suppressing a shiver and shaking my head. “Paternity leave getting to you?”
“No. Not really. I’m so fucking happy I can barely stand it, but sometimes the adult conversations can be lacking. Between diapers and interviewing daycares…” He waved a hand as his voice trailed off, taking a long pull from his beer. “The distraction is nice. I’ve missed this.”
He gestured to us like he wasn’t used to expressing complex emotions. I tapped my foot on the floor, running a hand through my hair and cracking my neck.
“Jesus, Miller. The suspense is killing me,” Maverick said, tossing a bottle cap at me. I caught it, laughing, and threw it on the table beside several others.
“My day started okay, but then I got caught up over at the project on Alan Street. Spent an hour in a dank crawl space trying to cobble together how the store got the shitty wiring working to begin with.”
They waited, sharing a silent conversation involving raised brows and rolled eyes as I set the bottle on the table and spreadmy legs, resting an elbow on each knee and dropping my head. “I left the job early because Emma sent me a panicked text from some useless work event, saying she needed me.”
“Huh,” Mark said, and I raised my head, watching him scratch his short beard. “Shame you weren’t able to help. I’m sure she would have appreciated it.”
“Oh. I know she appreciatesallhis talents,” Magnum said, reaching over and slapping me on the arm. I scoffed. He’d been spending so much time with his girlfriend he was barely at the house anymore, let alone around enough to comment on my sex life.
“She likes your assets, yeah?” Mark joked, chucking and threading his hand behind his back and tilting the rocking chair.
“I’m sure as much as Jenna appreciates yours,” I said, nudging him with my shoulder. He hissed as my elbow connected with his stomach, rocking forward in the chair as we laughed again.
Why don’t we do this more often?
“What did you do after you set the wiring to rights?” Maverick asked, helping himself to another beer. I reached forward, grabbing a cookie from a small plate on the table, missing when Jenna stepped onto the porch to say hi and set down the plate.
“Hm? Oh. No. I went to the work thing.”
“What? Dressed like that?” Magnum said as he leaned forward and turned toward me. I clenched a fist under my chin and closed my eyes.
“Yes. I know. I panicked, and it went about as well as you think.”
“You look wrecked. What happened?” Magnum asked, slamming the bottle on the table hard enough that my gaze darted to his.
“I overreacted, okay?” I said, standing. I paced the length of the porch, then turned and did it again, raising my head to the sky and wishing Simon was here with one of those fancycigarettes he pretends he doesn’t smoke. My hands needed to stay busy, to do something other than run through my hair and clench.
Smoking seemed reasonable; it was a better decision than others I’d made tonight.
“She said that she was in a pickle. That she needed me, okay? I panicked. Freaked out. Choose whatever fucking verb you like. I threw my phone in the truck and sped to the hotel. It wasn’t until she turned to me in this beautiful, backless dress that I realized how badly I misjudged the situation.”
“Ah,” Maverick said, rubbing the ‘eleven’ between his brows. “I take it you being there in muddy work boots and a rip in your jeans wasn’t what she planned?”
