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The dogs broke the tender silence, chasing squirrels through the window, and I was heralded in ten different directions all over again.

4

Chase

I finished charts from the last two appointments in my office when my cell phone buzzed across my desk. “Hey, baby K.” My younger sister Kristen called often and usually when she wanted something. I signed off on the scripts for Mrs. Schwartz’s Pomeranian and Donnie DeLuca’s Pit Bull mix who was suffering from an enlarged heart condition drumming the pen on the desk. Donnie was going to need a shoulder to cry on and a double pint of draft beer at Easton’s if we couldn’t get Nutter Butter’s heart under control.

Kristen made exasperated noises through the phone. “Are you coming to Mom’s Fourth of July barbeque?”

“That depends,” I told her, sitting back in my office chair spinning toward the window. The view outside wasn’t much except for the shaded worn brick back alley of the building. I kept a trap back there so I could TNR a colony of feral cats and provide neutering and health services while a local shelter helped to foster and adopt the tame kittens while returning the rest to their colonies.

Kristen snapped. “On what?” She drew my attention back the conversation while I made a note for the vet tech to order more wet cat food to put out there.

“Are you going to have another throw-down food fight with Damien Hart this year?” I could literally hear my sister rolling her eyes through the phone. Those two had been involved in something chaotic over the years. I would have done my big brother duty by kicking Damien’s ass, but I knew not all of what happened was his fault for the animosity between the two of them. It stemmed back to seventh grade, and I couldn’t keep up with the drama train that derailed for those two.

“Seriously?” Tapping sounds through the phone meant Kristen found a pen of her own to click so she could annoy me. I let the silence do the work for me. My sister huffed answering, “Look Chase, it was a full moon and I was left unsupervised at the time.”

“That’s what we’re going with?” I swore my sister had zero accountability and deserved everything she got with Damien Hart. My hand clenched around my pen which I forced myself to let go of. “You’re going to leave me high and dry with Mom?”

“She’s going to hire a catering service. What’s the issue? And for the love of God, get rid of the pen.” I heard her toss the pen getting whinny.

“Chase.” My sister had the unique ability to whine worse than a non-housebroken puppy trying to get upstairs in your bed. It was unfortunate my parents didn’t consider crate training my sister when we had the chance. Of course I’m kidding, but the idea amused me enough to laugh out loud.

“What the fuck is so funny?” She pestered and I choked down the idea of asking her to squeeze inside the large dog crate here in my office next time she over indulged. Knowing her there would be plenty of opportunities to try out that party trick.

I coughed.

“Nothing. Is everyone else going?” I inquired carefully, contemplating who I could bring to run interference on my mom’s piss poor matchmaking attempts. The perils of being Judge Catherine Calloway’s unmarried son.

“If you mean your ex, no, Bec is not invited.” Well, thank God for small favors. She dumped me right after my career ending injury in college and every once in a while, Becky would try to come crawling back with the help of my mom, a case of beer, and old high school prom videos. I could do without two of the three although I doubt there’s enough beer to erase Becky from my mind. Manipulative, lying, backstabbing and all the other adjectives that she continues to be even years later.

No thanks.

“Who else? Spill it, KC.”

“Um, Taylor, Hunter, Demon, and some chick with a tramp stamp. Oh yeah, Whit and this new girl he’s seeing. I think her name is Amy or Leah. It’s something like that, but I haven’t met her yet.”

“So basically everyone is paired up and you want me to come as the unattached bachelor so Mom can hassle me. Do you see how this is a blatant set up?” My sister was such a little witch sometimes.

“Chase, you’re the best brother ever.”

I chuffed. “Kristen, I’m you’re only brother.”

“Pfft. Semantics, besides I’m not going alone so she can pick out everything wrong with some guy I just met.” Her scowl was evident even through the phone.

“Well, if you stopped bringing home the dudes who take you out for the dollar menu, mom might lay off a bit.” Kristen loved her bad boys and made my life as her older brother a living hell. My parents should have stopped with one, but oh no, mom had to indulge in too many mimosas on their anniversary that year and boom I’m burdened with a squalling hellcat I have to clean up messes after. I thought I was pretty awesome even if I didn’t make it to the NFL like Dad expected.

“Sometimes you’re a real jerk and I see why Becky dumped your ass.”

“Ouch.” She knew how to bring the room down by bringing up my selfish ex-girlfriend.

“I know you, Kristen. You’re going to ask Evan to come at the last minute so Damien can blow a fuse again.” Her silence was an obvious omission of guilt. Part of me had to feel bad for the guy, he wasn’t nearly the version of Satan she made him out to be and they taunted each other for years. We all needed a break from their shenanigans even if they hadn’t grown out of it.

“Not true.” Raising her voice defensively, I laughed. We could go around in circles for hours about this until one of us, usually me, cracked and relented.

“Liar.”

“You remember what he did. It was unforgivable.”

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