Bro Code Page 5

  “So, what’s next? Is ‘present shopping for my dad’ code for ‘picking out new lingerie’?” She gestures toward a lingerie store, raising her eyebrows suggestively. I’m ashamed to say it takes me a second to rule out the idea. The thought of Barrett pulling something black and lacy off me with his teeth is almost enough for me to abandon any ounce of the self-control I’ve been clinging to. Key word: almost.

  “He’s Nick’s best friend, Megan. Nothing can happen. That would be like if you and Nick hooked up.”

  She purses her lips and shrugs, her eyes pointed at the ceiling. “You're right, I’d never go there,” she teases, which earns her a swat on the arm. I duck into a store filled with greeting cards and Megan follows me.

  “But come on, Ava. You’re not passing this up. This is Barrett we’re talking about here. Every high school fantasy we ever had come to life. And it’s not like you’re on the market for anything serious, right?”

  I shake my head. “Taking over the plant is taking over my life. I don’t have the time to maintain a relationship right now. Plus, he’s in Chicago. Dating a guy who lives three hours away is only something I would have done in college. Our lives don’t line up. More than that, my brother would disown one of us if he ever found out.” I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince, her or myself.

  “So, then, what does it matter?” she asks, rolling her eyes and flipping halfheartedly through a stack of retirement cards. “You’re adults. And you have chemistry. You don’t have to live by some high school ‘bro code.’ And it’s not like you share the details of your sex life with your brother. What he doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt him.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I just shake my head. Chemistry or no chemistry, I could never just throw caution to the wind like that. It's not me. Even if I might want it to be.

  “You get what you want and then you go your separate ways. No harm, no foul.” Her mouth curls into a devilish grin. “And if he’s ever back in town, well, there’s no shame in going back for seconds.”

  Chapter Seven

  Barrett

  The drive over to my mother's house is a lot longer than I remember.

  I could speed things up, lay on the gas and be there a few minutes sooner, but more than anything I want to turn right around and head to Ava's place. Her mother would welcome me back in with open arms, and I wouldn't have to worry about taking up too much space. Frustration burns slowly in my chest like a slow wildfire when I spy the sign for my old neighborhood, making a tight turn down the snow-slick road.

  I blow out a slow breath. A few hours of smiling and talking to everybody, catching up because no one ever calls, or sends birthday cards, then I can drive on back before it's too late. Of course, I love my family, but I've always been the odd one out, the firstborn son before my mom was married, and hardly out of high school. When I was seven years old, she married Bob and had another family. One I've never quite felt part of. Now, every time we're around each other, I can't fight the feeling that I'm overstaying my welcome.

  Cars crowd the driveway as I pull up, and I have to snag a space farther down the street, right on the edge of the neighbor's property. Ice crunches under my feet on my way to the front but it's nothing like the noise I can hear filtering through the door, half a dozen voices all talking over each other.

  I knock as a warning before stepping inside, since the door is never locked. “How's it going, everyone?”

  Both of my half-siblings have taken custody of the living room couch, chatting among themselves, but my two nieces wave when they see me. “Hi, Uncle Barrett!”

  “Barrett?” My mother's voice carries from the kitchen. “Come say hi, sweetie.”

  It's a short walk through the living room to find her, and I have to duck under one of the pans hanging from the rack on the ceiling. Everything is jammed tight between the counter and the stove; half the cabinets open for ingredients, so she has everything in reach. She's balancing her attention between three different pots at once, and I'm standing there for a few seconds before my presence catches her attention.

  “Hi, honey.” Our eyes meet for just a moment before Mom turns back to the stove and stirs something. It looks like the same soup she used to make when we were all squeezed in under one roof; the more ingredients, the better. “Just give me one second.”

  Waiting there with my hands in my pockets, it's impossible not to feel awkward. I miss the Saunders' place already, teasing Ava while doing my part to help cook. It felt warm, like a home, and I instantly miss that feeling of watching her eyes light up while I talk to her. Here, I can barely breathe past the steam and too many smells colliding in the small space.

  Mom breaks away from the food just long enough to pull me into a polite hug, arms loose against the stiffness of my back. “I'm sorry we didn't have any space for you to stay this time with your old bedroom being turned into an office and all. I barely had enough chairs for dinner.”

  That explains the metal fold-out one by the living room table. “Don't worry about it, Mom. At least we get to eat together, right?”

  “Right.” Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes when she pulls away from me.

  I return to the living room and sit down with the intention of trying to make small talk, but the conversation is dominated by my two toddler nieces, so I settle for smiling and watching them play on the floor. My half-brother Jonathan and his wife are bickering, and my half-sister Kimberly seems more interested in playing on her phone than catching up.

  Mom calls my name from the kitchen, and I'm happy to escape the awkwardness and lend a hand.

  When I enter behind her, she's wiping her hands on a towel and surveying her work.

  “Dinner is just about ready. Can you help me carry some of these dishes into the dining room? And then call everybody over to the table so we can get started?”

  Things have felt different ever since my stepdad passed away a few years ago, and I wish I could wrap my mom in a big hug and ask her if she's really okay. But I know she'd just give me a look and say of course. So, I don't. Instead, I head into the living room and announce that dinner's ready.

  It takes a few minutes of wrangling to get everyone in their chairs, especially since mine is backed against the corner. My nieces sit on either side, leaning forward so they can talk to each other, but Jonathan seems more occupied with the beer he just snagged from the fridge than any kind of dinner conversation. When Kimberly sits down, I notice a new ring on her finger.

  “Kimberly, did you get engaged?” I ask.

  She seems surprised that I noticed, but instantly lights up with excitement. “It was right over the holiday. Roger finally asked me, which is a relief, because I thought he never would.”

  Jonathan chuckles to himself. “That's another one tied down in the family. You better start catching up, Barrett.”

  “We're not all running on the same path with the same end goal in mind,” I say, biting my tongue against another comment when Mom comes over with piping hot bowls of soup. Jonathan got married at twenty-one, and it seems Kimberly won't be far behind him.

  “Does the firm still have you working those long hours?” Mom frowns, taking her seat between my siblings. “They should really think about people trying to get settled in with their lives and with family.”

  “I'm settled, Mom. If you came down to Chicago sometime and saw my place, you'd know that for sure.”

  “She's worried because you're the oldest,” Jonathan mutters, into the opening of his beer bottle.

  “There's nothing to worry about,” I counter firmly.

  Kimberly runs a thumb fondly over her engagement ring before looking at me. “But isn't it lonely? Being all by yourself in that big city.”

  I almost blurt out that I feel more alone boxed into this corner than I ever have in the city. How many people there are surrounding you doesn't really matter when it comes to feeling welcome. And as for Kimberly? Maybe I'm just bitter, but the fact that her fiancé isn't ev
en here tonight speaks volumes.

  “No. It's exactly what I need.” Searching for a distraction from the subject, I dig into my dinner, but even after the silverware starts clattering, everyone's eyes stay on me. “Honestly, I don’t even have time. Besides, why would I stop at the middle of the ladder and get married when I can climb all the way to the top?”

  As soon as the words have left my mouth, I know the sentiment will be lost on them.

  “Because you're in your thirties now, Barrett.” Mom sighs. “I can't remember the last time you told me about a special woman in your life.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. This house was so crowded that she doesn't even have a place for me to sleep, or a real spot at the table, and yet I'm supposed to bring a wife and kids back home? They wouldn't feel like they belonged any more than I do.

  “The girls are getting into gymnastics,” Jonathan chimes in, and my mom's entire face lights up as she leans in to ask them questions about it.

  My nieces happily babble on either side of me, as if I wasn't there at all. When my mom promises to come to their first practice, an ache settles deep in my chest. I had years of games, and she hardly managed to come to any of them. I'm not sure if she's telling the truth, or making another promise she can't keep.

  I tell myself it doesn't matter.

  Kimberly catches me frowning, and flashes a kind smile my way. She's the youngest out of all of us and was never anything but sweet, except we grew up so many years apart that there never seemed to be anything to talk about. With a wedding waiting in the wings, I imagine that's the only subject on her mind right now. So, I opt for ending the awkwardness and bring that subject up with her.

  “So, how's wedding planning going?”

  “Roger said we'll send out invitations as soon as we decide on a date.” Her smile widens, turning hopeful. “Do you think you could come? It'd be great to have the whole family there.”

  I nod without even thinking. “If I can get the time off, of course I'll come.”

  “And if you have a plus one by then, just let me know. I'll throw in an extra,” Kimberly says, and I have to hold in a groan.

  Everyone's so eager to turn their futures over to a picket fence and two-point-five kids. I love my nieces, but I know Jonathan is locked into some middle management job that he hates, and will be for at least another decade to get the two of them through school.

  Nick couldn't keep things together either, and he jumped at the chance to get married. Now I'm not sure if he was in love with his ex or if he just got caught up in the moment and thought it was the right thing to so. Shouldn't a lifelong promise matter more? Shouldn't it be built on a foundation that's never going to break?

  That's what I'm building at the firm, and I'm getting so close to reaching that goal. My coach would never let me give up back in college, and I'm sure as hell not giving up now. Even if it means everyone eyeing me for flying solo at the dinner table for the next few years.

  “Who wants to help with dishes?” My mom asks, and my sister-in-law immediately moves back to the couch in the living room, clearly still frustrated with Jonathan.

  “I got it, Mom,” Jonathan says, getting up from his seat. “Want to dry for me, Kim? It'll be like old times again.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Kimberly stands up, too, then glances back at me. “Could you toss the trash out, Barrett? I'm pretty sure the bag's about to burst.”

  It's a chance to step out and get a breather, so I nod and work my way out from behind the table. I haul the bag outside to the can, and for a second, I stand out in the cool air, looking at the light coming from the house.

  I could leave right now. I'm not sure if anyone would even say anything if I did, or if it would be the new family drama passed around the next set of brief holiday phone calls. The only thing really stopping me is that my mom might get upset. At the end of the day, she's still my mother, and I don't want to hurt her.

  I take a deep breath and shove the trash bag into the bin. After kicking the ice off my shoes, I step back into the house, holding the door so the wind doesn't slam it shut. Mom is in the living room with the girls, but I can hear Jonathan and Kimberly talking together in the kitchen.

  “Is Barrett even really into women?” Jonathan mutters, his next few words covered up by a dish splashing into the sink. “I'm starting to wonder.”

  “Jonathan, that's rude,” Kimberly protests. “It's his life, you know?”

  “I'm just saying, if I looked like he did, I'd have a woman on each arm. He's a lawyer in a big city, and still doesn't have anyone to show for it.”

  Both of my hands clench into tight fists, frustration almost drowning out Kimberly's next words. “Maybe there was a bad break-up he didn't tell us about or something.”

  Everything in me wants to walk into the kitchen and ask why anything I do is their business, but I hold back. This isn't the place to start a family fight, especially when I do my best to keep my nose out of their lives. You'd think they'd extend me the same courtesy.

  “Barrett, are you staying for dessert?” Mom asks, forcing my attention away from the conversation in the other room.

  “I should probably get going so I don't wake up the Saunders coming back in.” Somehow, I manage a smile, not wanting to worry her at the last minute. “Leaves more for the girls to eat anyway.”

  When my nieces cheer, I take that as a victory. Mom returns my smile, but doesn't get up from the couch next to my still pouting sister-in-law to give me another hug. Taking a step closer to the kitchen, I call out to Jonathan and Kimberly.

  “Night, everyone!”

  Porcelain clanks against steel as one of them almost drops a dish. From the low curse afterwards, it's my brother. “Catch you later, Barrett.”

  “Have a good night,” Kimberly adds, sounding as embarrassed as he does.

  Without hesitation, I step back out into the snow. It's a long walk back to my car at the end of the street, but as soon as I'm behind the wheel, I hit the gas. This house is the last place I want to be, especially when the people who actually want me in this town are only a few miles away.

  Chapter Eight

  Ava

  I can’t say for certain what it was that woke me. Maybe it was the uneasy feeling deep in my stomach that something was off. It’s more likely, however, that it was Barrett’s headlights shining directly through my bedroom window. Either way, I haven't been asleep long and now that I'm up, I’m wide awake.

  I reach over to my nightstand to check the time on my phone—it’s pushing midnight, which seems awfully late considering Barrett was visiting his mom just a few neighborhoods over. The low purr of his engine halts and I sit up in bed, trying to quiet my breath to listen for the sound of the doorknob turning or the garage door going up.

  A minute passes, then another, but there’s no sound other than my heart pounding against my chest, which seems so deafening that I’m sure it will wake the entire house. Another minute and still not a sound. My head starts running through scenarios. Maybe Mom forgot to leave the front door unlocked. Another minute comes and goes in silence before I toss back the covers and push my feet into my slippers. If I can’t sleep, I might as well investigate.

  I’m not exactly dressed to impress in my oversized sweatshirt, and pink pajama pants, but the thought of Barrett freezing to death outside my parents’ house takes precedence over my outfit. I pad down the steps and tug the front door open—Mom had left it unlocked for him after all, which eases my concern for his safety, but piques my interest as to what the hell he’s doing out in the cold. It’s almost too dark to see past the front steps, but if I squint, I can just barely make out his motionless silhouette in the driver’s seat of his parked Audi.

  The wind whips mercilessly against my cheeks, making every step down the icy driveway feel like a leap of faith, but I eventually make it to the passenger side of his car. After a single tap on the window, he turns his head, startled for just a second. I wiggle my fingers in a gentle wave
and he unlocks the door. I take that as an invitation.

  It’s not much warmer inside since the car isn’t running, but at least I’m out of the wind. I can’t stop shivering, and for a while the only sound in the car is our quiet breathing. Sitting in silence in cars with Barrett. This is starting to become a trend.

  There's a few seconds of silence, and then Barrett glances over at me. “I feel like there's so much we haven't caught up on.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  He shrugs. “I don't know.” He looks straight out the windshield, with a contemplative expression. “What’s the most rebellious thing you've ever done?”

  I wonder if he assumes that stealing a peek at his package, or kissing him would be high up on the list. And maybe they would, if I could bring myself to regret them.

  “Probably skipping my economics class, the entire fall semester of my senior year. The professor only counted the mid-term and the final exam toward our grades, so I literally only went to class twice. I swear people were like who are you? Are you in the wrong classroom?” I smile remembering back, and then realize it's a little ridiculous that this is the most outrageous thing I've done. Maybe I should have lived more, maybe then I'd have tales about drunken spring break escapades or sky diving behind my parents’ back. Instead I've always done what was expected of me, tried to be a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend.

  “But you passed?” he asks.

  I blink, realizing he's asking about the econ class. “I read the textbook. I knew the material, I just didn't see a point in sitting through the lectures for ninety minutes every week if I didn't have to.”