Wisely, I choose not to remind her that she was drooling over him mere moments ago.
Kyle shrugs off the dismissal. “I wasn’t expecting you to hop on my dick. I just like giving my brother a hard time, especially when it seems like he’s crashing and burning already. Can’t say I’m disappointed to see the show. It’s some pretty entertaining shit.”
I’ve had enough of this. We have places to be. Returning to the issue at hand, I demand, “What do you want?”
Kyle lets out an ear-piercing whistle, and the storm door swings open so hard that it hits the porch wall. “Uncle CJ! You’re finally here! I’ve been waiting forever and ever!”
My niece, Grace, is running at me full-force, and I brace for impact instinctually. “Hey there, Gracie girl! How’s my sweetheart?” I pick her up and spin her around, her legs flying out behind her in a move we’ve done since she was little bitty.
“Good!” she shouts as she laughs. Putting her down, she informs me, “Uncle Kyle says you’re taking me home because he has work to do.”
Shooting a deadly glare at Kyle, I answer Grace, “Oh, he did, did he?”
“Yeah, you can drop her off at Mom’s. Cameron’s gonna grab her from there after dinner, but I can’t put her on the bike yet. Cam’s orders.”
Kyle seems to think I’m going to drop everything and handle this.
Of course he does. The selfish prick. At least he followed Cam’s rule on the bike.
Admittedly, we all help take care of Grace. She’s like the family mascot, always hanging out with one of us. It started when Cameron lost his wife and Grace was just a baby. He understandably needed time and couldn’t handle everything amid his grief, so we all stepped in to help, and as much as Cameron annoys me by being the golden child at work, I would never take it out on Grace. She’s blameless for her dad’s assholery.
But not today.
“Kyle, I can’t. This dinner is important. Call Mom and have her come pick up Grace,” I suggest reasonably.
“Gotta go, man. See ya later, and” —he shoots a wink at Luna— “hopefully, I’ll see you sooner.” Somehow, without my noticing, Kyle has already straddled his motorcycle, and he starts the engine, drowning out my arguments with the roar as he revs the throttle. He pulls off, shouting loudly, “Bye, Gracie-Face-y!”
“Bye, Uncle Kyle! Be safe!” she yells, her hands cupped around her mouth needlessly because this little girl has lungs so big the neighbors two streets over probably heard her, even over Kyle’s bike. “Ready, Uncle CJ?” Seeming to only now notice Luna, she holds out her hand. “I’m Grace Harrington, nice to meet you.”
Cameron’s taught her well, especially for an eight-year-old. Luna, charmed it seems, shakes her hand politely. “Luna Starr, nice to meet you too.”
Grace looks gobsmacked. “Is your name really Luna Starr? Like moon and star? That’s cool. I wish my name was cool like that.”
Luna bends down, getting on Grace’s level. “Your name is pretty cool too. Are you graceful, by any chance?”
Grace shakes her head so wildly that her blonde curls fly back and forth. “Nope, Mee-Maw H says my name is ironic because I never met a piece of furniture I don’t walk straight into.”
“Well, that only makes it better. Keeps people guessing,” Luna says, making Grace beam with pride. “We should probably go if we’re adding another stop,” she tells me.
I plaster a smile on my face, never wanting Grace to feel as though she’s a bother. “Yeah, let’s go, Gracie. It’s a drive, so hop in.”
But someone else hears me say ‘drive’ and also hops in the car. “Nutbuster, get out of my car!” I shout at Kyle’s dog, who’s climbed in Luna’s open door and is sitting happily in the backseat, ready to go for a ride.
Rrrarf!
“Did you say the dog’s name is Nutbuster?” Luna asks, her brows scrunched together as though sure she must’ve misheard.
I sigh in response. “Technically, his name is Peanut Butter,” I say about the brown, long-haired dog who’s probably drooling and shedding all over my back seat. “But when he grew, he stopped right at” —I hold my hand groin high to explain— “and he’s a bit overly welcoming. By the time he racked us all a few too many times and we’d have to greet him with our hands over the crown jewels, the name stuck.”
“What’re crown jewels?” Grace asks. “Can I wear them?”
“No,” I say sharply.
Softer, Luna says, “I don’t think you want these jewels, honey. They’re all wrinkled and hairy and gross. A lady like you deserves a tiara.”
“Ooh, can I get a tiara, Uncle CJ?” Grace asks. Thankful to not be talking about testicles, I quickly nod in agreement. “Woohoo! Let’s go to Mee-Maw H’s, then.”
Before I know it, Grace and Nutbuster are in the back seat, buckled in and ready to go, and I’m looking at Luna in confusion. “How’re we going to do this?”
“Breathe, Carter. It’s not on your plan for the day, but it’s fine. Let’s go so we’re not late to the Cartwrights’。” Her tone is soothing and calm, like this is no big deal, like flirty asshole brothers, no-filter kids, ball-busting dogs, and fake marriage dinners are just another Saturday. As ridiculous as that is, she does help me settle down a little.
“Okay, this is fine, totally fine,” I repeat, more for myself than anything. Getting in the car, I back out of Kyle’s driveway, cussing him a blue streak but only in my mind so that Grace doesn’t learn those words . . . from me.
Once we’re on the road, I call my mother on speakerphone, hoping to warn her that we’re doing a drive-by drop off, but it goes to voicemail. “Uh, hey, Mom. I’m bringing Grace by. Kyle said she was hanging out with you until Cam could pick her up later. See you in a few.”
I hang up, but there’s something gnawing at my gut. Kyle wouldn’t have pawned Grace off on me and lied about the plan, would he?
He’s Kyle. Of course he would.
“Shiii—”
“’take mushrooms,” Luna says loud enough to drown out what I was going to say. “What’s wrong?”
I dial Cameron and end up with his voicemail too. “Cam, Grace is with me and I’m not sure where I’m supposed to take her. Kyle said Mom’s, but you know how that goes. Where are you? Call me.”
I look in the rearview mirror and see Grace’s smile as she pets Nutbuster. This is not how today was supposed to go. Not at all. And one look at the clock tells me that I’m running out of choices.
I run through the list of Grace-sitter options beyond Kyle, Cameron, and Mom, which is basically the rest of my family.
My brother Cole? He doesn’t live far, but then I remember that he’s out of town this weekend, so he’s a no-go.
My brother Chance? He teaches Saturday classes and turns his phone on silent to ensure he’s not interrupted. Plus, the center where he teaches is in the opposite direction.
My sister Kayla? Yes!
I dial her number and she actually answers. “Kayla! Where are you? I need a favor . . . I’m begging you.”