* * *
“Scott, make sure Jake and Kyle are separated,” Mom said, as we were led to the table at the fancy restaurant. In reality, it was an Olive Garden, but for us, that was the height of culinary excellence. “You take one, I’ll get the other.”
My brothers both dove for the seat next to our dad, Kyle edging out Jake by a hair. He then proceeded to rub it in by whooping in joy as if he were an Olympic champion. A disgruntled Jake punched him.
“Hey.” Mom raised her voice to get their attention. “Stop it right now. This is why we can’t have nice things.”
I snickered. Clearly Mom was kidding, but there was some truth behind her words, and it had nothing to do with Jake or Kyle’s antics. See, Mom wasn’t like the rest of us. To say she had married down would be an understatement. My mom hadn’t just grown up wealthy. Her family was the type of rich that owned half the city. She’d been destined to live her life in the lap of luxury when a chance encounter with a sandy-haired beach boy changed her life forever.
It was your typical poor boy meets rich girl love story, only this one came with the added twist of lawsuits, fistfights, and a lifelong disownment. In moments like this, when the best we could afford was a night out at Olive Garden, I sometimes wondered if she regretted her decision all those years ago. Sure, she wouldn’t have us, but she’d have everything else she’d ever dreamed of, and more.
Mom tapped the seat beside her, letting Jake know she wasn’t taking the slightest bit of crap from him. “Now.”
Pouting all the way to mommy jail, he flung himself onto the open chair. “That’s not fair. Why am I being punished? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yet,” Mom corrected him, not taking any offense to the suggestion that sitting beside her was the equivalent of prison. “You and Kyle haven’t done anything wrongyet. And Dad and I aim to keep it that way.”
“That was just one time,” Jake protested.
“Which time are we talking?” Emma asked. “The time Kyle went head first into the barrel of peanuts, or the time the two of you set the tablecloth on fire?”
“The fire was an accident… and the peanut incident was on Kyle. He’s the one who wanted to know if he could breathe under all those peanuts. I was only helping him with his research.”
“And just so you know,” Kyle pitched in, “they packed those peanuts in tight.”
“Anyway, I just want a nice, quiet evening with my family,” Mom pleaded. “No fire trucks or CPR. Do you boys understand?”
A moment passed with neither one agreeing to the terms of the evening. It took a harsh glare from Mom to force reluctant nods from the troublemakers.
Dinner went on without incident, and as it wound down, Quinn wiggled restlessly in his chair. “Mommy, I want to give you my gift now.”
“Ahh, so sweet. Okay. I’m ready.”
“I’m going to sing you a song.”
Mom clapped, genuinely moved by the effort her youngest son was putting into her birthday.
With a mischievous grin, five-year-old Quinn began his own unique rendition of theYankee Doodlesong. “YankeeDoodlewent to town, riding on a baby. Accidentally turned around andsawa nakedlady!”
Eyes widening in surprise, Mom looked around to make sure no one outside of our family unit had heard his song.
“Quinny, where did you learn that?” Mom asked.
“Kindergarten.”
“Wonderful.” She and Dad exchanged amused smiles. “So happy the education is well-rounded.”
“Ooh,” Kyle teased. “Quinn saw a naked lady.”
My baby brother’s tanned skin flushed a bright crimson color, and he immediately backpedaled on his birthday song. “That didn’t really happen, though.”
“Uh-huh, right, sure,” Kyle goaded, not letting Quinn off the hook he was now dangling helplessly from. “Did you see her boobies and everything?”
The humiliation was too much for young Quinn to handle. With gritted teeth and clenched fists, my baby brother swung out, pelting Kyle with a series of punches. If there was one motto us McKallister boys lived by, it was that the quickest way to settle a conflict was through combat.
“Was that supposed to hurt?” Kyle blew on the area of his arm where the strikes had landed. “‘Cuz it felt like a bunch of bird pecks… but maybe that’s because you’re exhausted after looking at sooo many naked ladies.”
Quinn burst into tears, running to Mom for comfort as the rest of us boys laughed at his pain. Hey, we all had to toughen up at some point. Quinn’s education just started a little earlier, based solely on birth order. As the newest male member of the McKallister clan, he had to pay his dues.
