AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And if all hell breaks loose, we always have Jude to blame.
I grin at Remy, but just before I can open my mouth to agree, someone beats me to it.
“Hey, assholes! Don’t even think about stealing my boat!”
All four of us look up and to our left and find our uncle standing on the wraparound back porch in all his nightly glory—flannel robe, flannel pants, and slippers.
Good ole Brad Robinson. Always with the perfect timing.
I swear to God, the man has a sixth sense of knowing when we kids are up to no good. Even now, with all of us being full-fledged adults, he still knows. He always knows.
“This was all Flynn’s idea,” Jude blurts out. “I am merely an innocent bystander who did not know what these bastards were trying to do. They basically kidnapped me, Uncle Brad.”
I smack Jude upside the head. “Pretty sure what he’s trying to say is that we’ve all had a bit of a rough night and needed to take a little ride on the water.”
“Bad night?” My uncle scratches his head. “Wasn’t it your bachelor party, Remington?” His gaze moves toward my eldest brother. “How in tarnation could that end in a bad night?”
“Jude did most of the planning.”
“Oh, gotcha.” My uncle bursts into several hearty chortles. “Makes sense.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jude asks, glancing around at all of us with his hands held out in a questioning gesture.
“It means you’re fucking crazy,” Ty offers, and Jude just shrugs.
“Pretty sure what you’re trying to say is I’m a fucking crazy good time.”
“No.” Ty shakes his head. “I meant you’re crazy. And not to be trusted.”
My two younger brothers revert to idiots again, staring each other down, but before another Winslow Fight Club can break out, my uncle pushes a low whistle from his lips. “If you two assholes start wrestling on my lawn and wake up your aunt, I’m getting my shotgun.”
“Whatever, Uncle B.” Jude cracks up. “Like you’d actually kill the closest things you’ve ever had to sons. Especially me. Your beautiful baby boy. The apple of your eye. Your biggest treasure in life.”
Our uncle is unfazed. “Jude, your mother brought you into this world, and she’s given me permission to take you right fucking out of it if I have to. And I think we both know that she knows just how important sleep is to your aunt Paula.”
I can’t not smile at that. Uncle Brad, everybody. The man whose years of helping our mom raise four wild boys have made it impossible for him to take any shit.
He’s not wrong either.
Paula is like a cat. She loves to sleep. She covets that shit like it’s gold. My mom made the mistake of trying to wake her once and almost lost a finger.
“So…” My uncle pauses, looking out toward the lake. “You guys just planning on standing on my lawn and clucking like a bunch of hens, or you want to take the boat out for a spin?”
“You’re going to let us take the boat out?” Ty asks. “Without you?”
“Yeah, right,” Uncle Brad retorts. “Like I’d let you assholes take my pride and joy out on the water in the middle of the damn night. I’m coming with. Give me a minute, though.”
Brad Robinson is a man of his word, because not even a minute later, he’s locking the back door and walking down the stairs with a twelve-pack of Budweiser tucked beneath his arm.
I smile at the sight of it. There were a lot of summers when we were teenagers, after Mom and Winnie and Aunt Paula had gone to bed, he’d sneak us boys out onto the lake to share some beers. Still, to this day, Wendy Winslow has no clue that her sons learned how to shotgun beers from her brother.
“Let’s hit it,” he says and proceeds to walk down the stone steps that lead to the dock.
Mind you, the man is still in his robe and slippers but gives zero fucks about it.
Once we reach the dock, Remy and I make quick work of the ropes tethering the bowrider in place, and it’s not long before we’re all packed in the boat and cruising away from the house.
Water ripples around us as we slowly glide across the water. The sky is still dark, and only a crescent-shaped moon and a smattering of stars are visible within its clouds.
For the first time tonight, all is calm.
I don’t have to worry about Jude getting our eldest brother castrated by a stripper. Or some crazy fortune-teller spouting shit that’ll push Remy over the edge.
Just peace and calm and family.
And the lake.
Once we’re a safe distance away from the coastline and there’s no chance we’ll wake up Paula, Brad switches on the radio and fifties’ crooners’ music adds a relaxing soundtrack to the ride.
