Page 2 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

“Shoulda known that he wouldn’t be packed. We only have to leave for the airport in twenty minutes.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“He’s your brother,” he tosses back, nodding toward the small closet by the front door. “Jacket’s probably in there.”

I roll my eyes, nodding my own thank you, as I set my notes on the table and get up to go grab the jacket. We should all probably be thankful that Brandt is even remembering to bring his rain jacket, rather than getting all the way to Colorado and then realizing he needs it. I might have only been six when Brandt and Milo went off to college, but I remember the many trips to the post office to mail him things he’d failed to take with him.

Jacket in hand, I head up to Brandt’s room, trying to think of something snarky to say when I hand it to him. I come up short though, which is probably for the best. If I know my brother—which I do—he's in a panic right now. Because Milo’s right; they need to hit the road. It’s a three-hour trip from our small town in middle Georgia up to the Atlanta airport. This is not the time to delay them.

“Here.”

“Oh, thank God, I was startin’ to think I’d lost my mind.” Brandt takes the jacket from me, rolling it up and shoving it into his rucksack.

“No promises you haven’t.” I plop down on the bed, surveying the open suitcase and rucksack. Both are full, but still seem…inadequate. “That’s really all you’re taking?”

“Yeah. So?”

“You’re going away for three months! Did you ship stuff there?”

“No, why would I?”

“Brandt! You’re a guest lecturer for the summer at your alma mater, and all you’re taking is a single suitcase?”

My brother shrugs, as if the whole thing isn’t a big deal. Even though it is. A very big deal.

When Milo and Brandt had announced that they were heading off to Colorado State for college, to major in fermentation sciences so that they could open a brewery, everyone laughed. All these years and a successful brewery operation and taproom later, no one is laughing anymore. Southern Brothers has three major beers that they produce and ship all over the east coast—their availability growing by the day—and a fourth about to make its debut.

It came as no surprise to any of us when the university reached out and asked Milo and Brandt to be a part of a summer program. Nor was it a surprise when Brandt jumped on attending and Milo opted to stay back and be the responsible one, keeping things running at home. What also shouldn’t have been a surprise is the lackadaisical approach Brandt is taking toward the whole thing.

“All I need are clothes. They’re putting me up in furnished housing, and there’s a grocery store less than a mile from campus where I can pick up whatever toiletries I need. It’s three months, Bren. Not moving there permanently.”

I roll my eyes, unable to deal with his nonchalance. I have ten bucks that says I’ll be shipping him something by the end of the week.

“And if I did forget something, you can send it to me.”

And there it is…

“I have things I have to accomplish this summer. I can't be running to the post office every day for you.”

Looking up from the T-shirt he’s folding, Brandt smirks at me. The kind of smirk that only an older brother can give. One that is effortlessly annoying and still endearing.

“You can take a break from studying to run to the post office every now and then. It’s on the way to Dolly’s. Don't be actin’ like with Mell working there that you won’t suddenly become a regular. Joining the Sunshine Seekers for breakfast.”

I roll my eyes again, stifling a groan this time. Not because of his mention of my best friend, MaryEllen Davenport—Mell for short—who is also temporarily back home and working at Dolly’s, Hickory Hills’s local greasy spoon, while her husband is deployed. No, my eye roll is because of his crack about joining the group of female townies that he and Milo nicknamed the Sunshine Seekers, who get together multiple times a week in the early morning to trade secrets and town gossip.

“Why on earth would I be joining the Sunshine Seekers?”

"Keep them up to date on all my happenings. Gotta help fuel that rumor mill, Bren!”

He tosses a shirt at me, laughing wryly as I dodge it. Seriously, only an older brother.

“Two things I’m not interested in—being your errand girl and fueling the gossip mill. And I’ll get to see Mell plenty. No Sunshine Seekers required. We’re gonna have our very own hot-girl summer!”

Brandt stops dead in his tracks, hands held in the air, midfold. “You’re gonna have what?”

“Hot-girl summer. It’s about confidence and being yourself and owning your life. With Jon deployed, Mell decided that this is our summer. We’re gonna live it up.”

As much as a married woman and a chronically awkward nerd can live it up in their small, rural hometown…