“I’m tired of it.”
“I don’t always want to get up and teach every day either. Sometimes that’s part of having a job.”
Well, that sounded preachy.
Evan tried really hard not to snap, but his sister wore him out. It wasn’t easy to stay upbeat around her.
“Fuck off, Evan. I’m going out.”
“Del—” He realized he was talking to a dead line. Of course. If he tried to call her back, she wouldn’t answer. He’d been down that road as well. Evan didn’t know what to do to help her. Especially when she refused to listen.
He wished he had someone back home to call. But he didn’t. And even if he had, he didn’t want to talk to any of them anyway.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
THE PACIFIC
Northwest was glorious in the late spring—after the torrential rains of March and April but before the grass-bleaching heat of midsummer. It was Austin’s favorite time of year, when everything was green and floral and perfect. He loved how the trees were covered in moss from the winter but their leaves were still new and fresh, how the air smelled like rain and grass and a bit like saltwater from the bay. How Austin could practically feel the beginning of summer blooming after months of rain. Maggie seemed to love it too. She was usually a happy dog no matter what, but Austin swore she had an extra pep in her step on days when she could bask in the warm but not hot sun and breathe fresh, green air.
After a long week of work, he’d passed out on his couch, with Maggie wedged between him and the back of the sofa. It had grown less comfortable after she wasn’t puppy sized any longer. Maggie had grown like a weed, and at just over a year, she was rangy, long-legged, and close to fifty pounds. But her big furry body had been the perfect napping companion in the winter, and he didn’t have the heart to push her off once it got warm.
“Guess what, girl?” Austin said as Maggie hopped off the couch, where she’d been sprawled and snoring lightly. She wagged her tail. “We’re going to dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”
Austin thought her tail wagged even faster, if that was possible. She was a smart girl. She’d probably learned that the words
Grandma
and
Grandpa
meant extra meaty bones and a big yard to run around in, chasing random bugs and butterflies—kind of like the dog park but with no other dogs. Austin only had a few minutes before it was time to leave, so he ran wet fingers through his hair, changed from his work shirt and khakis into a pair of cargo shorts, some flip-flops, and a much less furry shirt, then grabbed Maggie’s leash for the short walk from his apartment building to his parents’ house.
Austin looked up as he walked through the courtyard garden, like he did rather regularly, to the top floor where his new apartment was. It hadn’t come cheap, at least not for him. But it had been an important move—like if he made it to the top floor of the Bayview Apartments, then he really was someone finally. Probably stupid, but he couldn’t help the tiny surge of pride.
He turned out of the courtyard and took the first right off the main street so he could walk through the quiet neighborhoods instead. Austin loved it in the historical part of town and was willing to pay not to leave. He loved the Victorian architecture, his high school that perched dramatically on the side of a cliff overlooking the bay, the wide streets, the huge old trees, and the way everything felt familiar. He wasn’t one of those people who wanted to move away from the place where he’d grown up. And that was fine with him.
HIS FAMILY
was having the first barbecue of the season, a long-standing tradition. It had started with just the four of them, and maybe his grandparents if they felt like driving in from the suburbs, but the tradition had grown to include neighbors and friends, old and new. Mary Beth, Austin’s overachieving twin sister, usually brought whatever perfect, and perfectly obnoxious, boyfriend she happened to have at the time, and he usually brought… well, since last spring his date had been Maggie. Probably not as good as an actual, you know,
guy
. But she made him happy. Too bad his mother gave him wistful looks every time he walked through the door without a suitable suitor.
His parents’ house was only about a ten-minute walk, pleasant and sunny, but by the time he got there, he was ready to relax in the backyard with a beer and some barbecue. As a Washingtonian born and bred, Austin took pride in the fact that he couldn’t handle any temperatures above seventy-five without a lot of complaining and a large array of cold beverages.
“Hey, Ma. I’m here!” he called as he and Maggie slid through the front door.
Austin’s mother bustled in from the kitchen area, still wiping her hands on a tea towel. Rebecca Lloyd was lovely and fresh. Her hair was a wavy mix of blonde and silver, her eyes were caramel brown and kind, and she smiled at him like she hadn’t seen him in weeks, rather than only a day or two before.
“Hi, sweetheart.” She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. Then she turned her attention to Maggie, whom she referred to as her only grandchild. “Hi, Miss Maggie. Would you like a treat?”
Maggie’s ears perked up, and she wagged her tail.
“Ma, you spoil her.”
“Which is my job,” she retorted. “I spoil you and your sister too, just in case you were wondering.”
Austin knew it was the truth. “Where is Mary Beth?” he asked. It was rare for him to beat his always-punctual sister to anything.
“On her way. With Chad.”
Austin wasn’t a huge fan of his twin sister’s newest boyfriend, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme. Chad was a dentist, like Mary Beth, but unlike her, he seemed to take himself and his professional status very seriously—and he liked to regularly remind people just how successful he was, in case they happened to forget to be impressed by his existence. Austin wasn’t impressed.
“I see that face,” his mother warned. “Be nice. Your sister likes him.”
“When have I ever not been nice?” Austin protested. Okay, so maybe he’d been a little bitchy to the guy. Chad had asked for it, though. He’d started it by making that
face
when Austin had admitted he’d never gone to college. Austin hated that face. He always had. So what if he was better with animals than schoolwork? Didn’t make people like Chad any better than him.
“Just… be nice,” she repeated.
“I’ll try. He just makes me want to scream. I don’t even think he’s very nice to Mary Beth. That’s the part that makes me the most angry.”
“I know. She’ll see it eventually. She always does. Until then, we’re going to be polite and act like Chad is the best thing that’s ever happened to her. Right?”
“Peter and Cole will be here in a few minutes,” he said. Peter and Cole, Austin’s best friends, were very protective of Mary Beth and had little love for Chad as well. Austin was glad to have them in his corner. He gave his mom a look and raised his eyebrow. She smiled right back, as if she had no idea that Cole would be a lot less patient with Chad than Austin ever was.
“Cole promised me a new painting,” she said. The good old subject-changing tactic. Austin decided to let it go. “I’m going to nag him about it.”
“You should,” he told her. “Peter’s way too patient with him.” He rolled his eyes. “If you think I’m spoiled….”
Rebecca laughed and flicked Austin with the tea towel. “You
are
spoiled. No doubt about it. Go relax outside, sweetheart. I’m nearly done with the salad.”
Austin grabbed a beer and walked out into his parents’ backyard with Maggie, who’d already gobbled up the two treats Austin’s mother had given her. His parents’ yard had always been well maintained but was even more so after it had been years since there were any teenagers tossing footballs and digging up the grass with their games. The grass was a brilliant deep emerald green, a river rock pond with a little fountain bubbled away happily in the corner, the roses were bursting with green, not quite ready to bloom, and his mother’s tulips painted the entire border around the fence with pink, purple, red, and bright yellow. Austin took a deep breath and smiled. He loved being home.
He sank onto one of the deck chairs that had been there since he was a kid, only changed by an ever-rotating array of floral-covered cushions. He looked out over the yard and to the park across the street, where kids screamed happily and chased each other around the big playground toy and through the swings. Austin had done the same when he was a kid, in the exact same park.
The big toy might have gotten an upgrade a few years back, and the baseball diamond was a bit neater, but the hulking old school on the hill still perched over the park like a disapproving grandmother—Austin and his friends used to tell stories about how the building was haunted—and the park still dissolved at the edges into thick greens and trails through the city’s gulch. He chuckled when he thought of how clearly he wasn’t allowed into the gulch. And how frequently he hadn’t listened to that rule.
AS NICE
as it was to be home, and his parents’ house would always be that, Austin still had this uneasy pit in his stomach. He’d had it all week. The name of that uneasy feeling was Evan Partridge. Austin couldn’t believe how rude he’d been to the guy. To a
customer
. Yeah, he’d had a long day and nearly ended up sprinting down a busy street after a runaway Jack Russell, but it wasn’t like him to be rude. He had pulled Evan’s contact info from his files a few times already that week. But he hadn’t called. Nothing like pure shame to drive a guy. He couldn’t even imagine what he’d say.
Austin was distracted when Maggie let out an excited yelp. He saw Peter and Cole at the door. Peter had his arm around Cole’s shoulders but was still turned, laughing. Probably at something Austin’s mother had said. Austin was a little envious of what they had. He loved Peter and Cole like brothers and hadn’t ever looked at either of them as more than a friend, but he would’ve liked to have his own guy to walk in cuddled up with. His mother and Mary Beth were constantly campaigning for that as well.
“Why haven’t you texted me all week?” Cole asked. Cole and Peter weren’t Austin’s oldest friends, but they’d become his closest since he inherited them from an ex-boyfriend who none of them still talked to. Sometimes Austin wondered if Cole was his second mother.
“I did. I told you about the barbecue.”
“Mary Beth told me about the barbecue.” Cole rolled his eyes. “She’s bringing
The Chad
.”
“Can you not call him that?” Austin hated every mention of his sister’s asshole boyfriend.
“What do you want me to call him?” Cole asked. “The Douchebag?”
“Works for me. I’ve already been told to behave today, though.”
Cole made a face. “Me too.”
Austin laughed at the fact that his mom gave Cole directions too. Of course she did. And of course he listened—as much as Cole ever listened to anyone.
He was the talkative one of the two. Peter was typically happy enough to sit back and listen to Cole and Austin banter and bitch at each other. When he’d first met them, Austin had wondered at the match—artsy, expressive, and talkative with down-to-earth, athletic, and soft-spoken. It didn’t take him very long to figure out that they were meant to be together. Peter practically worshipped the ground Cole walked on, and Cole returned the love completely.
“You two need to give Mary Beth the benefit of the doubt,” Peter said. “She’s a smart girl.”
Austin rolled his eyes. “Like that’s ever benefitted her in the past. The douche wad parade doesn’t ever seem to be affected by her IQ.”
His sister had been amazing at school, unlike him, but she wasn’t the best at people judgment—especially when it came to boyfriends. That’s where he, Cole, and Peter came into play. She was twenty-nine, just like Austin. They weren’t kids anymore. It was getting to the point where he was afraid she’d end up with a ring on her finger from one of the assholes. His only hope was that someone intervened before she said yes.
It was almost as if he and Mary Beth had split a brain somewhere in those nine months that they’d been together in utero. She was gifted at academics, excelled where Austin never had, but she didn’t have a practical bone in her body, and she was horrible with people, while he had great intuition and business sense. They shared the same wavy, sandy hair and big brown eyes. Everything else was completely different. Sometimes he wondered if he’d been the lucky one after all.
“I guess I just worry about who she’ll end up with,” Austin said. “None of the choices have been stellar so far.”
“She’ll always have us, cupcake,” Cole said with a grin. “We’ll keep her in line.”
MARY BETH
eventually arrived, with The Chad in tow. Austin decided he was going to kill Cole for that one. It was already impossible to think of her boyfriend as anything else.
“Hey, Bro.” Mary Beth kissed him on the cheek.
“Hey, Sis.”
Austin and Mary Beth bumped fists and then hips. It was a little silly but still their typical greeting, one honed over years and years. They’d actually been friends in school, unlike some siblings.
“What are you guys, twelve?” Chad mumbled. He rolled his eyes.
“What are you, the biggest douche in town?” Austin snapped back. He hadn’t been amazing at controlling his mouth lately. He immediately felt bad for talking when he should’ve kept quiet. He’d promised he would try to be nice. Well… he’d tried.
“
Austin
,” his mother said.
“Sorry, Ma. Sorry, Sis.” He refused to apologize to The Chad. Instead, he turned and left his mom, sister, and Chad in the foyer and made his way back out to the deck where his friends, his beer, and his dog were.
“Chad’s here,” he whispered to Cole.
Cole snickered. “How do his teeth look?”
“Unnaturally white. To go with his blindingly white shoes that have never been worn and the sweater he has draped over his shoulders.”
“Oh God.” Cole fell back against his deck lounger and dissolved into giggles. His usual look was artfully ripped jeans, thin drapey shirts, tons of rings, and combat boots or converse. He constantly mocked Mary Beth’s preppy “other friends.”