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Holy shit, were we complicating things. We were out of control.
"Building?" asked Eric, voice heavy with disbelief.
"Yes." Teeth gritted, I smiled.
"Banging, screwing," said Joe. "You know."
With a loud huff, Eric sat back in his seat, not taking his eyes off me for a minute. And the look he gave me let me know, I was not making his birthday great.
"Eric?" asked Audrey, gaze racing back and forth between the two of us, Mommy-danger senses obviously on high alert. "Why don't I get you another beer?"
"It's fine, Mom."
"You got a problem?" asked Joe, brow wrinkling.
"She's using you," hissed Eric. "Can't you see that?"
"So?"
I turned to Joe, startled.
"What the fuck do you mean, so?" asked Eric.
"Language," said Stan, not looking up from his plate.
Both of the brothers ignored him.
"What I let Alex use me for is none of your business," said Joe.
"It is if it involves me." Cheeks sucked in, Eric glared at his brother. "This isn't about sex, you idiot. It's about her coming to town for me. Using you, to try and get to me."
My blood, it boiled. "No, I--"
"That's what I'm not okay with." Eric raised his voice, continuing over the top of me. Jerkwad. "And if you'd start thinking with your brain instead of your dick, you'd feel the same."
Stan pounded the table with his fist, making the cutlery rattle. "Language!"
"Boys." Audrey's eyes were wide and her lips thin. "If you need to discuss this further you'll do so later. We're having a family lunch. Enough."
Where they'd ignored their father, both brothers shut their mouths when it came to their mother. It was telling.
"Thank you," said Audrey, picking up her knife and fork once more. "And I'll have no more talk of banging and screwing at the table. I don't live under a rock, you know."
Eric and Joe both cleared their throats, uncomfortable, and I stared down at my plate.
"Sorry, Audrey." I respected the woman. I really did. But so many emotions fired inside of me, warming my cheeks, making my hands tremble. I hated conflict. Funny, given how often I seemed to find myself in such situations. Courage had never been my strong suit. No way, however, would I allow Joe to be insulted. Especially not because of me.
"You're wrong, Eric," I said, studying the remains of my home-cooked meal. "I can assure you that my interest in your brother has nothing to do with you."
Joe's big hand slid over mine, giving it a squeeze. "It's okay."
"No, it's not." I pushed back my seat and slowly rose to my feet, looking down at his brother. "Eric, for your birthday, I'm going to give you the gift of wisdom. Something you should have figured out for yourself years ago."
The man tipped his chin, inviting me to go on.
"You seem to have this misguided idea that a woman couldn't possibly pass you over for your brother. You're wrong." I sucked in a deep breath. "Joe doesn't need to lie and he sure as shit doesn't need to worry about your leftovers. Or whatever it is you're trying to infer. You're so busy over in Eric world, you honestly have no idea. Joe is smart, funny, loyal, sweet, hardworking, kind, caring, and generally amazing in all the ways."
"Christ," mumbled Joe, hiding a smile behind his hand.
Audrey's jaw dropped while Stan's brows started to rise.
Eric said nothing.
"And he's a beautiful man, even if he does insist on having a beard," I said. "He's gorgeous. Also, he's a gentleman, earlier comments about banging and such notwithstanding. You did a really good job raising him, Audrey."
Silence surrounded me.
"I think that's about all I wanted to say. Sorry about the language."
Eric's green eyes glared at me.
I glared right back.
Then my hand was lifted, pressed against Joe's firm lips. "Sit down, Little Miss Sunshine."
"Okay." I sat.
More of that pesky silence.
Audrey was staring off at the wall. I hope I hadn't done the woman any permanent damage by discussing her eldest son's awesomeness in all the ways. Some things, however, had to be said.
I chewed on my thumbnail, a frown set in place.
Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Crap.
At the end of the table, Eric downed the last of his beer and stood. "Anyone else need another drink?"
"Please," "yes," "hell yes," and last but not least, a grunt of assent from Stan.
It took a while for conversation to get up and going again after my announcement, even with the added social lubrication of more booze. Joe's mom had a strange quirk to her lips. I wouldn't call it a smile exactly. Maybe it was gas. And every now and then Stan would look at me, then frown. Eric and I went back to ignoring each other, which was probably for the best. His I-am-God attitude annoyed the shit out of me. Obviously.
"Stopped by the job you've been going on about this morning," said Stan. "Thought you would have been there. Had to get Andre to let me in, show me around."
Joe finished chewing what was in his mouth before answering. "Sorry. We had a late start."
A grunt from Stan.
"What'd you think?"
Lip curled, his dad shook his head. "No good. Job's too big. Plus I promised the Rosentons we'd get started on their gazebo. Told Andre to call someone else, Peters, maybe. Pick up your tools when you go into the bar next time."
Then, as if the matter had been decided, the man picked up his knife and fork and chased the last of his peas around the plate. Both Audrey and Eric acted distracted, eyes elsewhere. Staring at the family pictures on the wall, the old shots of Joe on his high school football field, a teenage Eric playing the drums. There was even a shot of Audrey with big hair in a white debutante dress.
Obviously, this sort of scene was nothing new for the family. For a long silent moment, Joe just stared at his father. His thigh had turned rock hard against mine, tension radiating. I grabbed his hand as he'd done mine. Solidarity.
"We'll be starting early Monday, Joe." Stan gave me side-eyes. "On time. No excuses."
Joe took a deep breath. "No."
"What the hell do you mean no?"
"This job's important to me," said Joe. "I've made commitments to Pat and Andre. No, I'm not walking away from it."
"You shouldn't have given them any definites until I'd been to the site." His father never even looked up from his plate. "You know better."
"I'm not a child, Dad. I can make decisions about jobs."
"Apparently you can't, because the renovation is too damn big." Stan set his cutlery down with great zest. "All of those rooms needing work. What the hell were you thinking? With my arthritis playing up I can barely even get up the damn stairs."
"Then you need to think about taking a backseat. Let me take over and manage things for a change."
Audrey gasped.
Meanwhile, Eric seemed to have frozen in his chair.
"Christ, Dad, I'm doing the bulk of the work as it is," said Joe. "It's time."
Blood suffused Stan's face. "That's my business you're talking about. The business that I built."
"Yeah. The one that I was meant to be a partner in, that's what you said. Collins and Son." Joe sat tall. "You haven't been able to work full-time for nearly three years now. I'm not trying to kick you out, but I'm done building birdhouses and fixing squeaky doors because that's the most you can manage. I'm sorry. But I want more."
"You want." Stan's voice seemed to almost rattle up from his chest.
"Come on, Dad. Be reasonable." Joe pushed his hair back from his face. "It's time to loosen up on the reins a little. Let me take on more. You taught me well, I won't disappoint you or tarnish the family name or something. Trust me."
Nothing from his father.
"I can go out on my own, if you'd prefer." Joe's grip on my fingers tightened to the point of being painful, but I held on. This was what we'd talked about, losing our bad ha
bits, fixing our lives. Finally, he was done doing whatever was easiest, what pleased other people even if it left him with little.
Stan's hands curled into fists. "You'd abandon me, boy, after everything I've done for you?"
"Christ. You can't have it both ways, Dad," said Eric with a sigh. "He's done everything he can to make you happy. To make you proud."
"I don't want to hear a goddamn thing from you." The man glowered at one and all. "Of course you'd be on his side. Too damn lazy and stupid for real work, weren't you?"
"Yes. So you can growl at me all you like," said Eric, jaw set in a harsh line. "But this isn't about me. It's about Joe. Hell, it's about Mom too, though she'd never say it. How do you think she feels, watching you struggle, watching you work yourself into an early grave?"
Their father turned to stare at her, seemingly out of words for once.
"You've been promising her Hawaii since before I was born," added Joe. "Can't count all the times you two have talked about it."
That seemed to stop him.
"Audrey?" asked Stan, voice hesitant.
With a sigh, she watched him with sad eyes. "I'll be sixty-two next year and you're sixty-six. We're getting old, honey. It's not an insult, it's a fact. And yes, I worry about you. Of course I do."
Eyelids blinking repetitively, Stan stepped back from the table. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.
The house sat in silence. It could have been the calm after the storm, or we might have been in the eye of it. Hard to tell.
"I think that went pretty well." Eric sank back in his seat, hands behind his head. "Could have done without hearing about my brother's supposed super-penis but, other than that, not the worst Collins family gathering ever."
Joe snorted.
His mother huffed out a breath, then took a long sip of beer. A healthy mouthful of the good stuff, actually. Fair enough, seemed justified.
