“With a damn good reason, mind you.” He stood from the floor and sat across from me, cracking his knuckles with a sigh.
“She didn’t say no, did she?” I asked, clutching the armrests and halfway rising from my comfortable leather chair before he waved me away.
“Of course she didn’t say no, you dick. I’d be neck deep in a barrel of bourbon if that was the case. Not trying to finalize those light fixtures before they go to manufacturing.”
“Then what the hell is the matter? Marriage is a good thing, right? You’ve been talking about it since you were in high school. Why you waited so long to get together with Emma is beyond me. Mom’s been referring to her as one of her kids for a decade.”
“Yes. Thank you for reminding me how long it took for my head to dislodge from my ass.”
“That’s what older brothers are for. Didn’t you know that? For dislodging heads from asses and giving advice.”
“Nice to know where your priorities are.”
“Look,” I said, crossing my arms and clenching my hands on my biceps. “If you want to drop it and talk about the weather or some shit, that’s fine. Fuck knows I’m horrible at this. But I’m still your brother, and I’m willing to listen.”
“She’s pregnant, okay?” he hissed between clenched teeth, standing to pace inside my office. Miller walked the length twice, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head.
“Ah,” I said, getting up and blocking his path. He tried to dodge around me, but I put my hands on his shoulders and squeezed, leading him to the two chairs in front of my desk. Reluctantly, he sat, and I did the same, turning the chair toward him and propping my right ankle on my left knee. “So, this was unplanned?”
“Unplanned and unexpected,” he said, dropping his arms to either side of the chair, lifeless.
The pups whined, sensing his distress, but didn’t move from the plush bed, still contentedly playing with their matching chew toys. I nodded, turning away from them and giving my full attention to my younger brother.
“I’m so happy she’s pregnant, don’t get me wrong—”
“But?”
“But,” he scoffed, scrubbing a hand over his face and wrinkling his nose. “But it took me so damn long to realize how crazy I was about her, I’d selfishly hoped it would just be the two of us for a while.”
“That’s understandable,” I said, leaning forward. “The newlywed phase doesn’t exactly mesh with the pregnancy phase.”
“Exactly,” he yelled, startling me as he stood and began pacing again. “I want to be a dad. I want to watch Emma glow. Argue about putting together a crib. But I know how important a big wedding is to her, and I can’t imagine that in her fantasies she walked down the aisle with a beach ball underneath her dress. What do I do? Suggest we elope and piss off the family? Suggest we wait until the baby is born? Help her shop for maternity wedding dresses?”
“Have you talked to her?”
I could see him spiraling as he let out a maniacal laugh and kicked the left leg of his empty chair—already knowing the answer to his question.
“Talk! Talk? Of course, I haven’t. It took me half an hour to calm her down this morning after I found her on the living room floor watching a commercial about lactose-free milk!”
“Then you’re worrying for nothing, idiot.”
There was something uniquely special about a sibling relationship. They’d seen you at your best and known you at your worst. They could snap you out of a funk with a well-timed insult and a punch to the shoulder with a level of trust and bond almost impossible to break. Although our serious discussions were few, there was no one I trusted more and could only hope he felt the same.
“Don’t call me an idiot, dumbass. At least it didn’t take me until I turned forty to find happiness,” Miller quipped, snapping me out of my nostalgic thoughts.
“Low blow, fuckwad. And you know I was happy. Mostly.”
“Mostly, my left nut,” he snipped, stopping behind my chair and slapping me not too gently on the back.
I jerked forward, then stood, facing him and puffing out my chest. He was just over six feet, but I topped the chart at six four, and I used that height advantage now, scowling back.
Miller deflated as his shoulders slumped forward and he collapsed back into the chair. Tito and Port, unable to go without attention for too long, jumped from the bed and trotted over, both placing their front paws on his shins. He reached down and scooped them up, settling them on his lap and petting their sleek fur.
I picked up the half-finished fixture from my desk, running my fingers over the twinkle lights strung together. “I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. Faster than a quart of milk expires, I’ve gone from being happily alone to crawling out of my skin with the need to be near Summer.”
“That’s how it works, Mav,” Miller said, using both hands to rub behind Port’s ears while Tito lazily stretched out over his right thigh. “One day you’re content with your life, and the next it’s like you’ve been hit with a sledgehammer. It’s happened to all of us. Even Dad, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” I chuckled at the well-known story of Dad and Mom being on different disastrous dates at the same restaurant and meeting at the bar. “I think we all could recite that one in our sleep.”
