揑t kind of seems like you are, Aaron. Like you have been for a while now.?
揘ope,?he pops the p at the end, stubbornly. 揝he decided to stop being a mom; I decided to stop being her son. Everybody wins.?
揜ight.?I nod, choosing my battles. 揃ut, Spencer抯 young梙e idolizes you and still adores your mom. And when you badmouth her, it makes him feel like he has to pick between defending her and going along with you梐nd that doesn抰 feel good for him. Can you understand that??
Aaron takes a breath. 揧eah, I get it. I抣l lay off the cursing and the name-calling. But . . . I mean, she basically abandoned us, Dad. Dumped us on you and hasn抰 looked back. Don抰 you think it抯 better for Spencer to know that that happened because there抯 something wrong with her梐nd not because there抯 something wrong with him??
Teenagers argue a lot, but they rarely make actual sense. The times when they do are always accompanied by an odd mix of pride and unease梩he feeling that the baby bird is getting ready to fly the nest, that the student is becoming the master . . . that you抮e one step closer to possibly getting your ass stuck in a retirement home.
Still, I give the kid his due.
揟ouch??
*
Growing up, my mother did her best to raise her four sons to be gentlemen. It was important to her that the Daniels boys were chivalrous, respectable, and mannerly.
Not an easy feat, considering we settled our differences by punching and shoving, and pinning each other to the floor and farting on each other抯 heads until somebody gave in . . . but she tried.
Which is why, when my ex-mother-in-law called to ask if I could move some furniture out to her curb that got ruined when her basement flooded last week, I didn抰 hesitate to say yes. I make the half-hour drive over to Hammitsburg, pulling my truck up in front of the two-story, beige stucco hacienda-style house that Stacey抯 mom redecorated with the life insurance money after her dad passed away when she was ten.
And I抦 not alone. My brothers, Ryan, Garrett, and Timmy, came along to help. Because not only do they owe me a lifetime of favors for the various shit I helped bail them out of when we were teenagers, but also because we抮e close. The four of us actually like each other.
Most of the time.
揌iiii, boys!?
Joyce Skillman, Stacey抯 mom, stands on the stoop with her right hand raised and waving vigorously, wearing high-cut black velour lounge shorts and a low-cut matching top that抯 at least fifty percent cleavage.
Joyce is a piece of work. She抯 not like my mom or any other mom I know梥he never was.
Joyce is . . . youth-oriented. Blond and bouncy even at sixty. She抯 into yoga, clean food, and air purifiers, Botox and breast implants and just enough nipping and tucking to keep things fresh.
My boys call her by her first name, per her request.
揑 made martinis!?She shakes a half-filled martini glass in her other hand, because she抯 also the kind of mom who loves martinis and isn抰 shy about sharing her passion.
She offered one to Aaron when he was eleven.
揌ey, Joyce,?I greet her as the four of us approach the stoop.
She reaches up on her toes, clutching me in a full-body-pressing hug.
揅onnor梚t抯 been too long!?
It hasn抰 been that long. She was with Stacey a couple months ago during the weekend kid trade-off, when all three boys were still spending time with their mother.
揧ou look good.?She gives my bicep a squeeze and strokes a hand across my T-shirt- covered chest.
And then lower, slowly . . . down over my abs.
揌ave you been working out??
A robot voice squawks in my head.
Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!
Joyce has always been affectionate, but she抯 never been ass-grabby. At least not with me.
揢h . . . thanks.?I take a step back, out of the grope zone. 揘ot working out any more than usual.?
I glance at my brothers梘auging their reactions梬ondering if I抦 reading too much into it.
Timmy抯 grinning like a pervy idiot. If WTF had an expression, it would be Garrett抯 face at this very moment. And Ryan . . . Ryan抯 staring at the ?7 Camaro in the neighbor抯 driveway, most likely not listening to a word that抯 being said.
揥ell, bachelorhood suits you.?Joyce says, picking up a clear-liquid-filled glass from the table and holding it toward me with a sly smile. 揗artini??
揑抦 okay, thanks.?
Never one to turn down a free drink, Timmy volunteers.
揑抣l take it.?
Joyce giggles as he drains the glass in one gulp. Then her eyes are back on me as she lifts a toothpick to her mouth and slowly slides the speared olive off with her lips.
And it抯 like I抦 in the Twilight Zone梩he dysfunctional family Twilight Zone.
揥e should probably get started on the furniture.?I hook my thumb back over my shoulder. 揂aron抯 keeping an eye on Brayden and Spencer, but Bray抯 been giving him a hard time lately so I don抰 want to leave them alone for too long.?
I抳e been come-on to by the wrong woman before. Patients, the wives of a few hospital administrators梚t happens. I know how to let a woman down gently. I抦 hoping that mentioning the boys will steer Joyce away from the danger zone.
But she doesn抰 take the bait.
Instead, she bats her eyelashes in my direction and says, 揂ren抰 I lucky梖our big strong boys here just for me.?
*
For the next hour, we drag two antique couches, a red chaise lounge, a dining table, and a dozen wooden folding chairs up the basement steps and out to the curb.
It抯 old furniture, heavy as shit, consisting of actual solid wood. And the narrow stairway makes maneuvering hard and tempers hot.
This isn抰 a problem for me and Ryan.
揧ou okay on your side??I ask him from the opposite end of the table before I move.
揂ll good.?
Ryan抯 only two years younger than I am, so he抯 always been less of a brother I had to watch out for and more like a partner in crime. He抯 matter-of-fact, direct, and to the point, and slow to piss off.
揓esus Christ, Timmy桰 didn抰 plan on getting my fingers crushed today. Can you turn it to the right and stop screwing around??
Garrett抯 four years younger than me and definitely more like a little brother. He抯 perceptive, smart, caring梙e can read people.
揃ut I抦 so good at screwing around. It抯 my duty to show the rest of you how it抯 done.?
Then there抯 Timmy.
My parents?final swing and miss for a girl. I抳e always felt extra protective of him. Being fourth in a line of three hard acts to follow couldn抰 have been easy. Plus, there抯 a seven-year age gap between him and Garrett, which in kid years is huge.
This one time, when Garrett was fifteen, my parents went out to dinner and me and Ryan were somewhere and Garrett was supposed stay at home to babysit Tim all night. But Garrett抯 high-school-girlfriend-now-wife, Callie, came over to watch a movie and afterward Garrett wanted to walk her home. He told Timmy to lock the door behind him and stay in the house until he got back.
Timmy梑eing the annoying eight-year-old baby brother he was梩hreatened to tell Mom and Dad, and whined about how much trouble Garrett was gonna be in if he got kidnapped.
Garrett told Tim that if he let himself get kidnapped, he was going to beat the shit out of him when we eventually got him back. Timmy flipped Garrett the bird with both hands and slammed the door in his face.
And that pretty much set the tone of their relationship for the rest of their lives.
揧ou抮e such a dick sometimes,?Garrett grumbles.
Timmy is unrepentant.
揟hat抯 why you love me, bro.?