8. Cooper
8
Cooper
I dreamt about Rod Stewart last night. We were fighting over Leah at prom, both of us singing. Rod, who I know was born in 1945 after a quick Google search at five o’clock this morning, out-sang me big time. We sang “Do You Think I’m Sexy?” to Leah, both of us trying to win over the girl. In the end, she chose the giant cinnamon roll man dancing just behind us. I hadn’t even seen the cinnamon roll man, not until she was choosing him—over me. Over Rod.
I’m not sure why this bothers me so much. It was a dream. A strange dream, at that. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m pretty sure if Rod and I truly went up against one another in anything, I could take the eighty-something-year-old. And if I lost—well, I’d rather lose to Rod Stewart than a cinnamon roll man. If my subconscious is trying to tell me something, it’s most likely that I’m on a losing streak. Guess what, subconscious, I already know. I don’t need your subliminal messages. But thanks anyway.
And yet, I am still going over what I should have done to win the girl in that dream—all while making Mom’s famous potato salad for our family lunch. What do you think, potato salad? Should I have danced more? Definitely not . Should I have asked more suggestively if Leah thought I was sexy? Nope .
My potato salad doesn’t care. In fact, it’s looking a bit mushy today. Somehow, I’ve screwed up this foolproof recipe.
Yep, I’m on a roll.
“Uncle Coop,” my ten-year-old niece Alice sings from the living room. Coco must be here—the first of my siblings to arrive, along with her crew, including Alice, three-year-old Lulabelle, and one-year-old York.
York may be one, but he is mighty. He’s got to be, to keep up with his two sisters. That kid started crawling at seven months and walking at nine months. He’s been terrorizing Alice’s pretty things for weeks now. He laughs at everything, but especially when Alice wails.
“In here!” I call, still mixing Mom’s carefully crafted sauce into my mushed potatoes.
Alice bounces into the kitchen in blue jeans . Jeans. The girl wouldn’t wear what she called “boy clothes” for the first nine years of her life. Not until she started fifth grade and her new bestie Amanda Clark told her that jeans are the best.
The sight still throws me. But I can act cool. “Hey there, Alice.”
“You’re in trouble,” she tells me. Her arms cross over her chest. Have her arms and legs grown, all while the rest of her body has decided to wait? The girl is gangly. She is also one of my very favorite people.
“Trouble?” I say, leaving my mushy salad to sit. “Not me. I’m never trouble.”
“Well, that’s not true,” Mom says, surprising us both from the hall entrance. “You were always a little trouble. Sometimes a lot.”
Alice pins me with an accusatory stare. “It’s a lot today.”
Muffled noises from the rest of Coco’s family weave in from the front room.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Mom says, kissing the top of Alice’s head and making her way into the living room, where Lulabelle and baby York wait for her.
Alice’s blue eyes don’t waver from my face. She’s staring me down as if I were on trial, waiting for me to confess to some unknown infraction.
The living room grows noisier as more family members file into the house.
“Sorry, princess, I don’t know what I did this time. Can you give me a clue?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Uncle Coop, you can’t call me princess anymore. I’m all grown up now.” She shakes her head. “I’ll be eleven in two months. No eleven-year-olds go by princess.”
“I see. Well then, sophisticated lady, can you please inform me of what I did this time.”
Her eyes widen, and those crossed arms fall before she plants both hands on her hips. “Two nights ago…” She waits, giving me time to finish for her. And maybe I’d be in less trouble if I could, but I’ve got nothing. “Mom said you went on a date .”
“Oh.” I swallow. “Well, sort of.”
She shakes her head. “Was it a date, or wasn’t it? Sort of isn’t going to cut it.”
I cough out a small chuckle and run a hand over the back of my neck. “Okay, it was a date. But it didn’t go well, and it didn’t last long.”
She wrinkles her nose. “But you’re the best. ”
I appreciate her confusion about why a girl wouldn’t like me. “Thanks, Alice. You know who else is the best?” I tug the girl into my arms and wrap her up in a hug. “You.”
She giggles and wiggles free of my grasp. Pulling in a breath, she stands in front of me, one hand on my shoulder. “For reals, though. You have a cool car, and your hair does that flip thing.” She rolls her eyes. “Girls love that kind of hair. Even Uncle Bear can’t compete with that.”
I can’t call her princess… but Levi will forever be known as Uncle Bear to Alice. I mean, it’s appropriate.
“Plus,” she adds, “Mom says you’re a smooth talker, and girls have no idea how to resist you.”
I smirk. Leah Bradford had no issues resisting me.
But then… no one can resist Alice. This kid stole every Bailey heart years ago.
“But hello! I’m still mad at you! You never told me about a date. I am always supposed to be informed.”
“Oh.” I study her very serious, very ten-year-old face. “Right. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to tell you—next time.” I clear my throat. “Hey,” I say. “If it’s okay with your parents, do you and Lula want to go check out a new cinnamon roll shop with me tomorrow?”
Her lips tug into a grin. “Heck yes! As long as Yorkie is not invited. I love him—because he’s my brother and Dad says I have to—but he will break something. Or spill something. Or eat something he shouldn’t.”
“ Alice ,” my sister says, spying from the doorway. “Are you complaining about your brother again?”
Alice sighs. “In her whole three years of life, Lula never ate my lip gloss.”
“In York’s defense,” Coco says, “it smells like strawberries.”
Alice rolls her eyes at me as if we are conspiring together against her brother. “Well, Uncle Coop is taking me and Lula to get a cinnamon roll tomorrow, and York is not invited.”
Alice is going to get me in trouble. “Because he’s little. Not because he’d eat lip gloss.” It’s an odd defense. Still, I’m afraid of my sister’s death glare. And I do love my nephew. I have not committed a crime.
Give me ten minutes and I’ll have a solid, intelligent argument. I promise.
“He’s a good boy,” Coco says. She walks over and links her arm through mine. “And Jude and I could really use… a minute,” she whispers. “Alone. Without children. Together.”
Got it. “On second thought,” I say, “York will love the cinnamon roll shop, and he’d feel bad if we left him out.”
Alice groans. “You’ll be sorry,” she says on her way out of the kitchen. “I’m going to find Uncle Bear!”
An hour later, lunch is finished—with only one complaint about my potato salad. Thanks, Levi. Mom has ushered all of us into the living room. This must be the reason for our family lunch on a Saturday. Something that couldn’t wait until Sunday dinner—tomorrow.
Only, it isn’t Mom who quiets the family, asking everyone to listen up. It’s my brother, Owen.
“We have news,” Owen says, a silly grin on his face.
“Not really news.” His wife, Annie, tugs him back down beside her. “More like a small announcement.” Her brows cinch, and her eyes dart from one family member to the next.
“Is there a difference?” Owen asks her.
Annie bobbles her head in a shake. “I don’t know. Announcement sounds much less terrifying than news.”
“Terrifying?” my sister-in-law, Meredith, says. She peers up at Levi, her eyes wide with the unsaid “news”.
Levi slips his arm around Meredith’s back but keeps his eyes on Owen .
“It’s not terrifying,” Owen says, peering around at the rest of us.
“It is too,” Annie says, her cheeks puffing out as if she were a chipmunk preparing for winter.
“Owen,” Mom says. “Just tell us, honey. What is it?”
“Can I just—” Owen starts.
“I’m pregnant,” Annie blurts, the words bursting from her lips. “I, Annie Archer Bailey, am… pregnant . Sure, I’ve no idea how to care for a baby, there was that time I almost dropped York, but here we are.” The words are strained on her lips, and I almost chuckle. But my sister-in-law is too sincere, too terrified . I can’t laugh.
“Whoa–almost dropped–” my one and only brother-in-law, Jude, begins.
But my mother squeals, interrupting him. She jumps from her seat on the couch beside me. “Owen!” She laughs out my brother’s name, but it’s Annie she wraps in a hug. “I thought you were moving!”
“Is that an option? Door number two?” Annie mumbles through my mother’s embrace.
The rest of my family is on their feet, ready to congratulate.
“It’s wonderful, darling,” Mom says. “We don’t want door number two. This is a wonderful announcement.” Mom moves from Annie to Owen, kissing my older brother on the cheek.
And then, just like when they were married, we all line up and offer embraces, congratulations, and love. Miles and Delaney are first in line.
Annie is crying by the time I get to them.
I wrap one arm around my sister-in-law. “You’ll be a great mom, Annie.”
“Thanks, Coop. That’s not a proven fact, and I’m not sure the odds are in my favor, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” She sniffs, running her hand beneath her nose.
“Let me grab some tissues,” I say. I can’t quite get to Owen, anyway. My mother, Levi, and Coco are still hovering around him. I reach out and smack the side of his shoulder. “Great news, O.”
“How far along?” Coco says as I’m on my way out.
“Four months,” Owen tells her. “Annie wouldn’t let me tell anyone for a while.”
“A cousin,” Alice says to her little sister.
Lula smiles. “Cousin!”
I pass Jude, bouncing little York on his hip. Annie may never hold that kid again–at least not while Jude is around. I walk through the kitchen and into the hall to find a box of tissues from the bathroom.
“I don’t mean to be selfish.” I hear the soft voice of Delaney, my sister-in-law. I saw the pair congratulate Owen and Annie, and then, they were gone.
“You’re allowed to feel sad. It doesn’t make you selfish,” Miles tells her.
I don’t mean to listen. My tissue box mission really doesn’t require that much effort. But I can’t remember ever seeing happy, confident, joyful Delaney cry before. It’s made me pause. I pull one tissue and then another from the box on the back of the toilet, listening to my brother and his wife from across the hall in Miles’ childhood bedroom.
“I’m happy for Owen and Annie. I promise I am,” Delaney says.
The wheels in my brain turn—but clarity won’t come. I am certain Coco would be having an aha moment right now. She’s intuitive like that. But I don’t understand. All I know is that my brother and his wife–who seem perfectly happy on the outside, not unlike myself–have something going on. Something that’s breaking Delaney’s heart.
“You can be happy for them. And feel sad all at the same time,” Miles tells her.
I pull another tissue from its box. Their voices muffle, but I’ve listened too long as it is. I take the tissues out to Annie, where my family celebrates. Everyone but Miles and Delaney.