Everything I Shouldn't / Everything I Need (5 page)

David gets home late, so SB is still in the kitchen muttering to herself and making a complete mess that I am sure one of us will be cleaning up for her later. After looking over at her, he comes over to sit beside me on the couch. "What the hell is she doing now?"

"I have no fucking idea. I tried to help her, and it only got me yelled at. You couldn't pay me to go back in that kitchen tonight." At that point, it was every man for himself. If Dave wants to know what she's doing, he will have to go it alone. My ass is sitting right here on the couch.

David rubs the back of his neck while watching her move around the kitchen determinedly. "Do you think I should check on her?" Lowering his voice, he says, "She really has no idea what she's doing in there. Tomorrow is going to be a fucking catastrophe. You know that right?"

"Oh yeah, I'm not looking forward to whatever's going to happen tomorrow. You realize we're going to have to grin and bare it, and act like whatever she makes is damn delicious." David groans, and I feel a modicum of satisfaction that I'm not the only one that is going to have to fake it tomorrow.

Thanksgiving morning, SarahBeth is the first one up. David and I stumble out of our bedrooms at what feels like the ass-crack of dawn because of all the noise coming from the kitchen. She has the turkey in the oven and is struggling with the recipe for her grandmother's stuffing. After shooting me a wide-eyed look, David heads into the kitchen to offer assistance, but she immediately declines, telling him that we should be hanging out watching football. That would be great, except it's only eight in the morning so there aren't any games on yet.

David offers an escape plan; we can look at the plans for the renovations to Drench that we are going to start after the weekend. We both have put so much time into making sure the place got off the ground and started bringing in money that renovating anything has been put on the back burner until this point. We spend the majority of the morning in what had once been Dave Sr.'s office making sure everything was in place before venturing back out to check on SarahBeth.

When we come out of the office, she's nowhere to be found and the kitchen looks like a bomb went off in there. David looks at me, silently asking if I know where she is, and I just shrug. How the hell am I supposed to know where she went? I'm not her damn keeper. He starts up the back stairs to look for her, calling her name as he goes and leaving me to search the ground floor. After searching the kitchen, den, living room and even the pantry, there's no sign of her. Based on the fact that David isn't back, I know he hasn't had any luck finding her either.

The only place left to look is outside, so I open the French doors that lead out to the back deck and walk outside into the frosty November air to see her sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs with her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them. She looks so small, even smaller than her petite 5'1" frame normally looks. She's wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, and the sweater swallows her whole body. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I slowly walk over to her, unsure if I'm going to get rational SarahBeth or the psycho that seems to take over her body at the slightest provocation.

I take a seat on the chair next to her, and stretch my legs out in front of me looking at her out of the corner of my eye. She isn't crying, and she doesn't look ready to pull an Exorcism neck spin, so I think maybe I'm safe. "What're you doing out here Little Bit?"

She sighs, "I've ruined everything."

"I'm sure that's not true," I start, but she cuts me off with a bitter laugh.

"Oh trust me, it's true. Did you know that you're supposed to take the neck and giblets out of the turkey before you put it in the oven? Because I didn't. I cooked it the entire time with all of that inside it."

I'm not really sure what to say to that. The obvious, "didn't you read the directions?" won't go over well, and I damn sure don't have a death wish, nor do I want to detonate the ever-present human bomb, so I decide to play it safe. "Well, I'm sure it's still safe to eat?" I mean it as a statement, but since I've never cooked a turkey, I really have no idea if you can still eat it after that. "But, even if it isn't, I'm sure there's chicken or something in there to make instead." I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile, but based on the glare I get in return, it must not be.

"Okay smart guy. I also burned the sweet potatoes when I was boiling them on the stove, the mashed potatoes look grey instead of white, and the pumpkin pie is runny. I'm a complete failure." SB's shoulders sag, and she rests her cheek on her bent knees, looking at me like she's completely lost.

I have no idea what to say to that other than, "Well, I can call my aunt and see if we can go over there for dinner if you want me to." Truthfully, going to my aunt's house for dinner is the absolute last fucking thing I wanted to do, but if it will make her happy, I'll suffer through it.

SarahBeth knows just how much my family sucks, so her eyes grow as wide as saucers at my suggestion. "I'd rather go to a restaurant to eat before going over there."

"Thanks for that Little Bit," I tell her, putting an arm around her and pulling her close so I can lay a kiss on the top of her head. I rub a hand over my heart, which squeezes at her sudden worry about me. This girl has a way of making me feel things I never thought I would. "Glad you're getting some perspective. There are definitely worse things than cooking the giblets in the turkey or grey potatoes."

Jeremy

"C
ome on, Jer!" SarahBeth whines as she pulls me along behind her. Why am I shopping for prom dresses? Oh right, because she came home the night before upset and when I asked her why, she told me, "I need a dress for prom and my mom isn't here to take me." Her lip quivered, her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I felt a sharp pang in my chest at the thought of her hurting. SarahBeth squeals as she holds a pale pink, floor length dress in front of her while looking in the mirror, her cheeks full of color and her eyes sparkling. Obviously, this is the dress she wants. It has very thin straps to hold it up, and there are sparkly stones along the waistline of the dress that travel down the fabric that pulls across in a wrap style. Jesus, I've definitely spent too much time with SB and her friend Olivia if I'm able to remember what any of that means.

Hurrying into the dressing room, she puts the dress on and is back out in front of the mirror in record time. It makes me all kinds of an asshole that the first thing I notice about the dress was how nicely she fills it out. I'm going straight to hell for not being able to look anywhere but her chest. She's a tiny little thing and lives in t-shirts, hoodies and jeans, so I don't see much of her body normally. But it's all on display in that dress. The way the dress wraps around leaves a space for a hint of leg to poke through with every step she takes, and I know David would shit himself if he saw her in that dress. She definitely doesn't look like a teenage girl, even if she is only seventeen.
Fuck
. She's only seventeen. I have got to pull it together.

The rest of the shopping trip goes by in a blur, and not just because I'm trying desperately to erase the picture of her in that dress from my mind. She's quick to pick out shoes and accessories to go along with it, and all too soon we're heading back to the house and she's telling me all about the guy who was taking her to the prom. I don't pay much attention, barely even registering his name or the fact that he is a senior while she's just a junior. Instead, my mind is thinking up all the ways I can scare him off and ensure he doesn't attempt anything with her. That's what any good brother would do, right?

By the time prom night arrives, I've done everything I can to expunge the sight of SB in that dress, just in time to see it again. Whose bright idea was high school prom anyway? SarahBeth has been planning and preparing for this night for weeks and I'm not sure I'll survive. Over the previous fourteen months, I've watched her go from a sad, unhappy fifteen year old to a moody, insecure sixteen year old and now a flirtatious, almost grown seventeen year old young woman. It makes me both proud, and terrified to the point I want to lock her in her room and never let her out. These are not the feelings a twenty-eight year old man should have for someone so young. If David knew, he'd kill me. There's no need for torches and villagers with pitchforks, I don't need to be run out of town on a rail, it's not like I'd ever act on these feelings, I'm just well aware that the way I'm feeling isn't the way I should be.

David isn't here, so it's up to me to vet the date and make sure things go "perfect" for SB. I need a drink in order to deal with this shit. I have to make sure that Jordan Cove, and really, what kind of name is that, knows to keep his hands and all the other parts of his body to himself. According to SarahBeth and Olivia he's one of the "hottest" boys in the senior class and they can't believe he asked her to the prom. Personally, I thought David should have told her that there was no way she, a junior, was going out with a senior. Hell, we were senior boys not that long ago, surely he remembers how they think!

The doorbell brings me out of my dark thoughts, and SB yells down from the top of the stairs, "Jeremy! Will you get the door please? That's my date!"

Rolling my eyes, I shout back sarcastically, "Sure, I'll get the fucking door." as I slam my empty beer bottle down on the coffee table and take a deep breath to calm myself down.
You can't act like a caveman
. This was my mantra tonight. Don't embarrass SB, scare the date half to death so he doesn't even think about touching her, and make sure she comes home just as innocent as she is right now. Yeah, that's so NOT a thought I need to be having at that moment.
Motherfucking hell
. I am so screwed.

Pulling open the front door, I'm face-to-face with a punk who is easily three or four inches shorter than me." He has light brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a cocky smirk that makes me want to beat the shit out of him right here on the front porch. I know that look. It's the "I know I'm the shit, and I'm going to get laid tonight," look that all eighteen-year-old boys have on prom night. Hell, I once had that look myself!

"Hey man," boy wonder says. "You must be SB's dad, huh?" My fingers tighten around the edge of the door. I'm not
that
much older than her you stupid son-of-a-bitch. And where does he get off calling her SB? That's David and my nickname for her, not this asshole.

Reaching out a hand, I smirk back at him, "No, I'm not her dad. I'm her brother's best friend and the one you really don't want to piss off." He hesitates before reaching to shake my hand and when he does, I squeeze his as hard as I can.

"Uh...uh...Oh. My bad, guy." He stutters, clearly thinking he would have the upper hand here. Sorry shithead, I'm way worse than anything you could ever hope to be.

When I just continue to glare at him, his face visibly pales and he starts looking around, hoping SarahBeth will turn up and he can escape. Moving out of the doorway, I gesture for him to come inside. The little shit was so cocky when I answered the door, and now that we're inside he's not saying a damn word. This is going to be easier than I thought.

"So, Jordan, right?" He nods. "What exactly are your plans for you and SB tonight?" If he's going to use her nickname, I damn sure am too. I don't know how much time I'll have before she gets down here, and I want this guy to know what's going to happen if she comes back changed in any way.

Jordan looks everywhere but at me when he says, "Um, well, there's a party after prom tonight that I figured we would go to at my buddy Andy's house."

"Uh huh. And I'm assuming Andy's parents won't be home right?" My arms are crossed and my eyes are cold. I know exactly where this is heading.

He shakes his head frantically, "No sir, his parents are staying in a hotel tonight so that he can have the party." Well, his parents are clearly idiots. The only things these kids are going to be doing tonight is drinking and having sex.

Leaning in close, making sure to keep eye contact with him, I growl, "You better bring her straight home after prom. I was your age not that long ago, and the last thing you're going to do is take SarahBeth to an unsupervised prom after party. She better come home in the same condition I'm sending her with you in. You get me?"