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“Hey, I’m not getting between you and your best female friend.”
“But wait, I thoughtIwas the best friend?” states Todd.
Dad laughs. “Yes, you’re Athena’s bestmalefriend.”
Shannon grins. “You’re also her Matron of Honor. Can’t wait to see the dress.”
Todd shakes his head. “You’re just jealous.”
The two of them bicker back and forth, and for a moment, I’m happy. The sinking feeling I’ve carried in my gut since Kris had his car accident, which wasn’t an accident, feels slightly less heavy. Mom rubs my back absently, something she’s done since I was a kid, to comfort me. She does it without thinking, and it always soothes me.
Picking up a piece of bacon, I watch my family. TB is feathering kisses on Ashlea’s neck and in between they whisper to each other, it’s wonderful to see him so in love. Shannon and Todd are trading insults. Dad is sneaking a hot cinnamon roll and winks at me, knowing I could expose him to Mom. And Mom is beside me, sipping her coffee and rubbing my back in slow circular motions.
Dad takes a seat next to me and pokes me in the leg. Looking down, he has a roll for me, and I gratefully take it, keeping it under the table so Shannon can’t see. We smile at each other like co-conspirators.
“Dad, what are you up to?” asks TB.
My father is the worst liar and tries to feign innocence with big eyes. “What?”
TB looks around the kitchen, and his eyes land on the tray of cinnamon rolls with two missing. He looks at me and shakes his head.
“You were always the favorite,” he teases.
“Now, Ares, that’s not true. Your mom and I love you both the same.”
When Dad is trying to make a point, he uses TB’s real name. TB is a nickname—it stands for teddy bear.
“You didn’t sneakmea cinnamon roll,” states TB.
All eyes go to Shannon, who’s looking at me with a scowl.
“Snitches get stitches,Ares,” I reply.
The room bursts into laughter.
“Where the hell did you hear that? I don’t know if I like my girl living in LA. Snitches get stitches? Whatever happened to you calling him a dibby dobber?”
Laughing, I pat Mom’s leg under the table. “We grew up.”
Her eyes mist over, and she nods, sending a tear down her cheek. “Y-yes, you did.”
Throwing my arms around her, Mom embraces me too. “Don’t cry, Mom. Please don’t cry.”
“My babies are all grown up.”
Dad puts his arms around both of us, and we stay like that until Mom pulls away. When I look around the room, everyone has tears in their eyes.
“This is supposed to be a good day! No tears,” I state.
“Aww, honey, it’s a good day, and these are mostly happy tears,” says Dad.
“Mostly?” I ask.
“I’m just feeling a little redundant.” Mom wipes her face on a napkin that Shannon has handed to her.
“Mom, I’m always going to need you.”
“No, Mom, we’re both always going to need you,” corrects TB.
