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Asher is looking out at the party, his brows furrowed. He’s not scowling, which is something, but he looks almost sad. I bump my oldest brother with my shoulder.
“You okay?”
He nods, taking a sip from his beer. “Yeah, I was just thinking… this is nice. Everyone together. Lilah’s twins...”
“Uh-oh. Could it be?” I place the back of my hand to his forehead, “Is that baby fever I hear in your voice?”
Asher brushes my arm aside. “Knock it off, Julia. All I said was this is nice.”
“Yeah, but your face says someone’s been kicking puppies and making you watch, so…”
“This is what I get for trying to have a real conversation with you,” he mutters, turning to walk away but I wrap an arm around his, hauling him back.
“I’m sorry. I’m done, I promise. You’re right. This is all very nice. Except for the strippers. I think they deserve stronger adjectives. Maybe we just need to find you the right woman.”
“Oh God, please don’t,” Asher groans. “Single is… fine. It works for me. I like that you all have your people. I honestly just don’t see that happening for me.”
I laugh and he stares at me like I’ve sprouted tentacles for limbs. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I was thinking that exact same thought about five minutes before I ran into Mateo at Olive’s wedding. You do realize that by saying that, you’ve set your path in motion, right?”
I wave a hand in front of us, setting the scene. “Somewhere in the universe, a woman just got super horny for you. She feels an overwhelming need to visit wine country but doesn’t know why.”
Asher groans, but behind him, Sally is rolling something out the back door of Gran’s house. She pulls it into the yard with the help of one of her jungle boys. To my horror, I realize it’s a giant karaoke machine. Anita and Josie cheer from the drink table as she turns it on, tapping the microphone. If I had to put money on it, I’d bet we’re about 45 seconds from a Pat Benatar tribute concert. I’ve been on enough girls’ nights with those ladies to know the tone-deaf hell that’s coming for us.
Sure enough, the synthesizer beats start pouring from the speaker with echoes of “We are young” and it’s everything I can do not to groan out loud. Asher lifts his dark, silent phone to his ear, pretending to answer it loudly.
“You need a tow truck?… I’m at a family party right now… Oh, well, if it’s an emergency.” He pockets the phone without even making the pretense of hanging it up. “I gotta run! Duty calls,” he calls out, backing toward the gate as Lukas flips him off.
Sally dances toward us in her pink zebra print dress and matching pink hair, leaving Anita and Josie doing their dramatic duet at the microphone. Mateo’s arm tightens around my shoulders and I can almost hear him begging me to save him if she tries to make him dance.
When Sally reaches us, though, it’s not me or Mateo she grabs onto. She pulls Luis by his jacket lapels, leading him back toward the karaoke area. I’d expect him to weasel out of it, but he grins and lets her pull him along, bouncing to the beat.
“Huh,” I mutter, glancing up at Mateo. His brow is furrowed, his mouth hanging half-open in an expression that perfectly matches mine.
“Do you think…” I start but I’m not sure how to even finish that sentence so I just take a long sip from my beer.
“Noooo…” Mateo squeezes my arm. “No? Maybe?” He watches them dance, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “As long as she doesn’t make me call her Mommy, I’m good with whatever.”
I laugh, choking on my drink. Covering my mouth with the back of my hand, I cough, trying to clear my throat. Mateo’s warm hand rubs up and down my back.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “You think we can sneak off for a couple minutes?”
“Yes, please.”
His chocolate eyes sweep over my face, drinking me in. “Come on, then.”
He takes my hand, leading me out of the backyard and around to Luis’ house, one door over. Instead of going inside, though, he passes through the gate. The party at Gran’s house is raging just fifty yards away, but the music is at least muffled by the trees.
Mateo pulls me all the way to the back of the yard and when I realize where we’re headed, I start laughing. The old treehouse Luis built for us as kids is tucked up in a gigantic oak tree, towering over the yard.
“The treehouse? Are you sure it’s still safe?”
He grins at me and I love that even through the short beard and the scars and all the time that has passed, I can see a hint of the boy he was.
“It’s safe. I checked it a couple months ago because Dad was wondering if he needed to build a new one for Lilah’s twins. It’s in surprisingly good shape.”
“I haven’t been up there since the summer after junior year,” I laugh. I remember climbing the ladder the night Mateo left for basic training and crying like my heart had been cut from my body.
I told myself I was just sad to be the last one home. I rationalized it as just a weak moment of missing my family and my friend, but I think part of me must have known it was more than that. I was just too stubbornly blind to see it.
