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Garrett
Iwake to the sun peering through the skylight overhead and my brother staring down at me.
“Hey, superstar. Catch,” Weston greets as he flings an object at me.
“What the hell? What is this?” I yell as I sit straight up in bed.
“A life jacket.”
“What do I need it for?” I ask.
“With your track record? Sleeping above the water … a life jacket just makes sense,” he quips.
I toss the thing back at him.
“Funny, asshole. What are you doing in here?” I ask.
“I saw the Land Rover outside and came to see what was up. I heard you might be coming to town.”
“So, you break in at the crack of dawn to scare the shit out of me?”
“I didn’t break in. I have the code. Who do you think keeps this place up for you and that yacht of yours?” he asks.
“It’s not a yacht. It’s a speedboat, asshole.”
“Whatever. When did you get in?” he asks as he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Around midnight.”
“How long are you gonna be here?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. I have a wedding in San Antonio next month. So, hopefully not too long.”
“Who’s getting married?” he asks.
“Harlan James.”
“The singer?”
“The one and only. I’m a groomsman and also the entertainment,” I inform.
He chuckles. “Are you a wedding singer now, superstar?”
I might be after the dust settles.
“Ha-ha. He’s a friend, and his bride happens to be my biggest fan,” I retort.
“How many biggest fans do you have?”
“More than a few. Maybe less than I had a week ago though.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, that wasn’t your best look, bro. The photos that the paper printed made you appear deranged,” he agrees.
Terrific.
I rub my eyes. “I know.”
I throw the covers off and make my way to the toilet.
“What’s for breakfast?” I ask.
“This isn’t some five-star resort hotel, superstar. If you’re hungry, cook something,” he answers.
“I can’t cook, and if I could, there is nothing here to cook.”
“Then, go somewhere and buy something. Aren’t you rich?”
I groan.
“I can’t believe I have to read about your life online. What the hell was all that ruckus about anyway?” he asks.
“Give me a minute of privacy, and I’ll get dressed and let you take me to breakfast. Then, I’ll explain it all.”
He stands. “Cool. I’ll go down and call Langford and Graham and see if they want to meet us at The Hot Little Biscuit.”
Langford and Graham are my older brothers. Them, along with myself, Weston, Corbin and Morris make up the Tuttle brother six-pack.
“What about Corbin and Morris?” I ask.
“Morris has classes, and Corbin is the fire chief now, he can’t just leave on a moment’s notice. We’ll have to catch them up later. You want me to invite Mom?”
I shake my head. “I’ll go see her once I’ve had food and coffee.”
“Good idea. You’ll need the energy.”
“Wait, did you say Morris has classes? Did I miss something?” I ask.
“Yep, baby brother started community college this semester. If you visited more often, you’d know these things.”
He disappears behind the door, and I get ready to face the music.
