“This is just…not ideal.” He huffs, running a hand over his face.
“Right, because we planned on doing this today and just didn’t tell you,” I reply, but Jesse’s eyes speak for themselves—he’s not up for sarcasm.
“No, seriously, why are you so uptight? You’re never like this,” I say.
Jesse’s the patient brother, always steady, just like Dad. He’s always there for you, no matter what. So this short temper of his is something I haven’t experienced much of before.
Jesse shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit,” Cody mutters.
Jesse leans his head back against the wall and lets out a long, slow breath. “I promised Ella I’d be home in time to make dinner tonight. Said the same thing the other night, but got caught up with work. She hasn’t been feeling good and I’m trying to be more helpful.”
Ella’s pregnant with their first baby, also the first grandchild. You could say we’re all more than just excited…we’re counting down the days like it’s Christmas, which, ironically, is around the time she’s due. We only found out a few weeks ago, and I still get excited butterflies when I think about it.
It was a Wednesday night. We had everyone over to celebrate my nineteenth birthday and Jesse and Ella got me two gifts. The first one was a necklace, and the second one was a navy blue sweatshirt with floral letters embroidered across the chest that saidAuntie. I don’t think I ever cried tears of happiness so quickly in my life. They then proceeded to pull out a similar sweatshirt for my parents that saidGrandmaandGrandpa. Cody and Mason got mugs withUncleon them.
“See, that’s why you don’t make promises like that,” Cody says, jolting me back from the memory.
“It’s my wife. If I can’t promise a simple, ‘Hey, babe, I’ll make dinner tonight,’ then what am I even doing?”
“It’s calledlife. It happens. She’ll understand.”
“Of course she will, but it doesn’t mean I want to let her down all the time.”
“Well, she had to have expected some kind of nonsense happening…it’sus,” Cody says jokingly, but Jesse doesn’t laugh.
Nobody talks for a few minutes. Probably for the best. I don’t need to step in and break up a fight between these two. They’re both bulls; I couldn’t even tell you who’d win. It would be strictly luck. Cody’s built like a brick wall, but Jesse’s taller, and they’ve both got arms like sledgehammers.
A four-wheeler sounds in the distance. We all bump into each other trying to look out the window to see who it is.
It’s Wesley. Of course it’s Wesley. He’s been my best friend since we were seven, and has yet to let me down.
Our families have lived next to each other for generations, long before we were ever born. Some of my favorite childhood memories have Wesley in them, like sitting in the buddy seat of their combine during harvest while his dad let us take turns steering.
We spent nearly our entire summers outside—fishing in the creek, seeing who could skip a rock further across the pond, and plenty of mud bogging. My brothers were usually along for those adventures as well.
My earliest memory is from when we were probably five.We always sat next to each other in Sunday school, but there was this one time I was late to church, and someone else had taken the seat beside him. The teacher pointed out another spot across the room for me, and Wesley got up, walked over, and sat down beside me like it was nothing.
“How many of you are in there?” Wes laughs, dismounting from the four-wheeler.
“Just Cody and Addie,” Jesse says out the window. “Just push the door open, would ya?”
“Don’t ask whose fault it was, Wes,” I call out to him.
He laughs as he pushes the door open. The air that comes in is so much cooler than the stagnant, BO-filled space in here.
“Thanks.” Jesse gives Wesley’s shoulder a nudge and Cody says the same before chugging a water bottle.
Wesley’s chocolate-brown eyes find mine. “You good?” he asks.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I say, while my brothers simultaneously try to explain to Wesley what happened.
I stand here and relive the story with them, their tempers calmed now that we’re not faced with spending the night in the hut together.
Chapter 2
Addison
