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A strange sound comes from the other room and we both jump out of bed. I’m clutching the sheet to my body, my face feels covered in road rash while my hair looks like it’s been subjected to the blow dry portion of a car wash. All in all it is not a good look for me. Meanwhile, Grant covers his oversized privates with his hands. Spoiler alert: they don’t hide the entire length.
And that’s when my brother and his wife walk into the room.
My brother is pacing. Back and forth and back and forth. Heavy scowl in place. Calvin’s scowl gives Grant’s a run for its money. Only because it’s more readily available and comes more naturally.
“Cal––stop. You’re wearing out the limestone floors that took me forever to pick out,” his wife, my bud––most importantly, the voice of reason—says. She opens the refrigerator and pulls out the milk and hits the start button on the fancy espresso machine. “Decaf for you,” she says, pointing to her husband.
Once we ascertained that there was no home invasion robbery and it was only two family members with an overactive imagination, Grant and I threw clothes on and met them in the kitchen.
My gaze surreptitiously cuts to the man I love. I curl my lips between my teeth to stifle a laugh. With his shoulders sloped and his hands fisted together and resting on the kitchen table, he looks like an oversized child caught stealing and awaiting punishment.
“If you woulda just answered my texts…” Camilla looks at me, leaving that hanging in the air. She stands behind my brother pointing and making a crazy sign with her index finger.
Grant smirks and Calvin turns to find Camilla smiling sweetly. “Boo, relax. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”
“How are the boys?” I ask.
“Great,” Camilla answers. “This one has been so much easier than Connor. Sleeps a good stretch at night soundly. My parents are with them today.”
My brother vowed never to have children. He hated babies. Hated them. After what we lived through, nobody blamed him. Now he has a three-year-old and a three-month-old and is happier than I’ve ever seen him. Go figure.
Calvin levels me with his typical pointed glare.
“Don’t you dare get pregnant, Mandy Sue. We can’t afford another mouth to feed so stay away from boys.”
He must’ve said that to me every single day since I turned fourteen with the same look on his face he’s wearing now.
“I’m tellin’ you right now. Boys want one thing and one thing only. They don’t give a single shit about you. They just want that.”
“We thought you were…” my brother begins, searching for words.
I almost jump out of my chair I’m so offended. “You thought I was drinking? How could you?” I shout at Cal. I haven’t had a setback. Not even close. Why would he even entertain that?
“With Sam away, he was a little concerned,” Camilla explains, riding to my brother’s defense. She hugs his waist and pets his chest and the stiffness drains out of him completely. “When you didn’t answer my texts, he got a lot concerned.”
Remorse takes root on Cal’s face. It surprises me. In the past it would’ve been impossible to get him to see the error of his ways. I guess we’re all making changes.
“We were a little busy,” I mutter and it looks like the top of Cal’s head is about to explode off.
Casting pity at my sister-in-law, I say, “What are you going to do if you guys have a girl? He’s gonna be a beast.”
“We’re not having any more kids.” The horrified look she gives me says she means it. “That’s crazy talk.”
“Maybe one more,” I hear my brother mutter at her.
“How’s the new studio doing?” Cam says, in a swift change of topic.
“Amazing. Thanks to Grant. He put it on Instagram and we had a near riot the next day. Super busy since.”
“I would’ve done that for you,” Calvin says. And unless I’m mistaken, he looks hurt.
“You never offered so I didn’t want to put you out more than I already have.”
He runs a hand through his black hair. “You’ve never put me out, Amanda.” His exhale sounds exasperated. “You’re my sister.”
Beyond his shoulder I see Camilla tearing up. “Sorry. Sorry. Hormones.” She shakes a hand at us and levels all the love in her eyes at my brother. “Reggy, that was so sweet. You’re the best.”
She often calls him by his middle name––a name which he loathes. It’s hilarious. I’ve never seen him take shit from someone and look happy doing it before he met her.
His faces softens and he wraps an arm around her shoulders while she continues to pet him like he’s a wild animal to be tamed.
Seeing them stand next to each other, looking at each other the way they often do, Calvin, with his black hair and gray eyes, and Camilla, with her brown Mediterranean skin and big brown eyes and freckles––they make a head-turning couple. Cool and warm. Reserved and outgoing. They are a perfect match in every way.
