I thought I was signing too fast for them to understand me, but Rachel proves me wrong when she says, “She has you there.” Her shoulder touches her dark hair when she shrugs. “The last I heard, you drew Mal a map, and he still couldn’t find your G-spot.”
When Carmen and Suzie’s laugh hums through my chest, I give Racheal my best thank you face.
She mouths, “You are welcome,” before leaning over the middle console to crank the radio up. When the thump of a familiar Top-Ten hit pulsates through the outdated speakers in the doors of Carmen’s car, I forgot about Brandon and the possibly urgent situation he’s in, and focused on ensuring my heart won’t shred into a million pieces when we glide through a familiar T-intersection in a little over two hours.
THE HEARTBREAKING THUD, thud, thud of my heart lessens when Carmen pulls her VW Jetta into the dusty driveway of the McGees’ family ranch. Since traffic was bad, we’ve arrived a little after dusk, meaning I only caught the quickest glimpse of the white crosses Brandon and his mom placed on the power pole near the T-intersection that claimed my parents’ lives.
I also can’t see my family home.
I’ll brave it one day.
Today just isn’t going to be that day.
“You okay?” Racheal asks, squeezing my hand.
I nod, hiding the panic flaring through me.
“If you need a breather, come find me.”
Smiling, I nod again. I’d rather us all stay together, but considering I’m the only non-single member of our quartet, I don’t see that being the case. Even with a majority of his teen years spent in a bed, Joey is rather popular. The McGee ranch is bursting with partygoers. They’ve spilled onto the lawn, and even a handful of people are gathered around the old oak tree I use to climb to reach Brandon’s room.
The thought brings a smile to my face. My first in hours.
With most of Joey’s guests being former students of my high school, the first two hours of his party goes remarkably fast. I talk to old peers, current ones, and a handful of girls who traveled over five hours to attend. They talked a bit too fast for me to understand, but from what I gathered, they were squabbling over who was going to occupy Joey’s bed tonight.
Their fight settled when I joked that they’ll most likely all end up in his bed at the same time. For some reason, my written suggestion interested them more than it disgusted them, which saw me seeking new people to converse with. I love Joey, but unlike Brandon, it’s always been a big brother-little sister type of infatuation. I honestly feel a little ill even considering the possibility of it being more.
Talking about big brothers. “Joey!”
When I stomp out his name like Brandon always does mine, he spins around to face me so quickly, his drink spills over the rim of his glass and sloshes onto his Van shoes. “You made it! Where’s pipsqueak?”
I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
The women I was talking to earlier shoot daggers at me when Joey greets me by wrapping me up in a giant hug before spinning me around the room. Usually, I’d repel from any theatrics in public, I get enough eyes as it is, but since his actions put my ear within an inch of his chest, I drink it all in.
I can’t hear my daddy’s heart, but I can feel it, and I won’t give that up for anything.
“Hey, none of that,” Joey warns when he spots the tears in my eyes upon returning me to my feet. “This is a celebration for both him and me.” He doesn’t need to sign my father’s name to know who he’s talking about. The way he touches his chest anytime he remembers him ensures I can’t be mistaken. “I would not be here without him, Mel, and I will be forever grateful for that.”
“I know.” I clasp my hands together when they shake so violently, my confirmation that I’m okay is barely legible.
“Are you drinking?”
I screw up my nose before shaking my head.
Joey smiles. “Do you want a drink?”
When I jerk up my chin, the tears in my eyes nearly tumble. “I could be convinced if there is something enticing on the menu.”
The bass of music shuddering my toes weakens when Joey leads me into the kitchen. It’s brimming with people, but the mood in here is more subdued than it was in the living room. I’m struggling with my emotions, but after a quick breather and perhaps a stiff drink, I’ll be right as rain again.
While Joey moves to the fridge to gather a bottle of chilled soda water, I take in his fit frame. He’s gained back the weight he lost when he was sick and added a few extra pounds. “What is with the babyface? Are you trying to maintain your youth or accepting styling advice from Brandon?”
Joey laughs before scrubbing a hand over his prickle-free chin. A wiry beard usually covers his cut jawline. “I am trying something new. Do you like it?”
When he drags his silky-smooth chin down my cheek, I ask, “Are you trying to get me killed?” He finishes topping up our vodka, soda, and lime concoction before straying his eyes in the direction I’m nudging my head. “They were having quite the debate earlier.”
“Oh yeah… about what?” He pushes my drink to my side of the counter, knowing full well what they were arguing about, but praying I’ll spell it out for him. He’s shit out of luck. I can’t make things easy for him.
