“My family is insane.”
She slides onto my lap, her knees falling to either side of my hips and her smiling lips grazing mine. “Then it’s a good thing I’m a bit of chaos on my own.”
CHAPTER 46
ELLIOTT
Chaos
What kind of cookies do you like?
Your cookies
Weirdo
My great auntand uncle’s cabin sits on a slight incline, overlooking the lake. Now, I use the term “cabin” in the loosest sense of the word considering the wood-clad monstrosity boasts eight bedrooms and more glass than any one of the high-rises downtown. It wasn’t always like this. Back when I was little, the cabin was a cottage made of stone, with an A-frame roof and a bunch of single-beds in a loft.
Then my uncle bought a winning lottery ticket, and the old cabin was replaced with this one.
A rhododendron-lined drive snakes down toward the lake’s dark-blue water. Brick paths and patios lead to brick stairs, all the way to the lapping shore. Colorful sailboats bob lazily on the horizon, skirted by the occasional motorboat blaring music and leaving a trail of white-capped waves in its wake. The smell ofmeat on the grill fills the air. Towering oaks block out most of the sun, shading the mossy grass below.
Loren and I arrive twenty minutes late, which means we’re stuck parking right next to the bushes. I offer to let Loren out before I park, but she insists she’s okay with climbing over the center console and getting out through my door. With that little white sundress she’s wearing, the whole process is quite entertaining. When I catch a flash of the lacy white thong she has on underneath, I seriously consider hopping right back into the truck and driving home.
The dinner is a potluck, and she baked a bunch of sugar cookies so soft your teeth sink right into the gooey vanilla goodness. I may or may not have already consumed three. Since she moved in, I’ve eaten like a king. If I don’t stop, I’m not going to be able to see my toes come Christmas.
The moment Loren’s strappy sandals hit the pavement, her eyes go wide as saucers. “Holy crap, that’s a lot of kids.”
Holy crap is right because there are childreneverywhere.
We’re talking in between the bushes, hanging out on the balcony, screaming through the lawn, splashing in the water, and passed out on loungers next to the picnic tables.
My mother is the only one of her five sisters and two brothers to have one child. August is one of six. My aunt Verna had ten children.Ten. Like, do they not have a television in their house or what? To make things even more insane, each of their children have at least three kids.
The yard looks like a damn day care center.
A woman in one of those shapeless dresses that looks like a pillowcase waddles up to us, smiling and waving with a tiny shovel in her hand. “Hey, Elliott. Long time, no see.”
Would you look at that? My cousin Kelly is pregnant…again. “Hey, Kelly. Is that number three or four?” I ask, nodding at her swollen stomach.
Her belly shakes when she laughs, just like I imagine Santa’s is supposed to. “Five, actually.” Her eyes track to Loren, and she gestures at her with that shovel. “Who is this?”
I throw an arm around Loren’s stiff shoulders, pulling her closer. “This is my girlfriend, Loren Piper.”
Kelly’s grin stretches even wider. “He must really love you to subject you to this madhouse.”
Loren’s smile tightens.Shit.She’s uncomfortable already. This was a bad idea. As soon as Kelly moves on, I’ll ask Loren if she wants to leave.
As if on cue, a little kid who looks like Kelly’s carbon copy starts screaming down by the slide.
Kelly whirls, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Oh, sugar. That’s little Kelsey.”
“Oh, sugar?”
“Yeah, well, we figured it was time to stop cursing when our youngest told his pre-school teacher she was a fucking disaster. I’ll talk to you in a bit. Sign-up sheet is on the door. Nice to meet you, Loren.”
“You too,” Loren says, then turns to me to add, “She seems fun.”
“She used to be.” We all used to sneak away from the mayhem and smoke weed up in the rhododendrons. Now she has her own fucking basketball team. I step in front of Loren, waiting for her to look up. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
