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“I missed that since I wasn’t invited to your little daytime drinking soiree. Some of us need to catch up.”
Holt got up and put her in a headlock, mussing her hair. “Not so fun now that I’m bigger, is it?”
“I haven’t done this to you in years,” she shrieked. “Daaad.”
“You two are old enough to settle this on your own,” he said, staying out of it.
“Holt. Let go of me.”
“What? You don’t want your hair messed up?” he taunted.
“Shut up.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to be teaching your son,” Patrick volunteered.
“You shut up too.” She wiggled in my brother’s hold to no avail. “Let me go, you jackass.”
“With that language, this little guy won’t get into school, much less get kicked out.” Patrick winked at me, and I held up my hands. If he wanted to provoke my sister, he was on his own.
Her eyes found mine. “What good are you just sitting there, letting him do this to me?”
“Staying out of it,” I said, and she growled.
“I’ll remember this.”
“You won’t catch me in a headlock.” I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Assholes. Every last one of you.” She slapped at Holt’s back. “Except you, Dad. Unless you don’t help me.”
“That’s enough, Holt,” he said in a stern voice.
Holt released my sister, whose face was scarlet, eyes blazing, and hair a wild mess. Patrick reached over and smoothed some of it out. Marlow smacked his hand away.
“If you want to sit there with that crazy hairdo, fine by me.” He turned Blake toward her. “Look at how silly Mommy looks.”
My nephew giggled, and Marlow scowled. I doubled over laughing, the alcohol and my family finally getting to me. They all looked at me.
“Your hair’s a little—” I motioned around my head. “Messed up.”
Marlow charged at me, her hands diving for my hair. She ruffled it as I tackled her to the floor and tickled her ribs.
“Stop it,” she screamed between pained laughs.
“Need some help?” Patrick offered.
“No.” Her fingers clawed at me, and she attempted to roll me over. I let her but didn’t let up on the tickling.
“Get her feet.”
“She has on shoes.” Patrick passed Blake to my dad.
“They come off,” I said, dodging a slap to the face.
“Don’t you dare.” Her head thrashed wildly as she tried to escape.
Patrick tossed off her shoes and tickled the arches of her feet.
“Mercy!” she shouted. “Mercy. Mercy. Mercy.”
