59. Rules Don’t Apply to Me #2
“Yes, sir,” Eli replies, but turns to me. “While we’re on the topic…” he begins, but Brighton yells and the whole room turns.
“Shit! I burned myself.”
Deborah and Willa move to her side as Emberleigh comes to mine, wrapping her arms around my middle and tilting her chin up.
I drop a quick peck on her lips and hear, “Oh, get a room.”
I whip my head to the sofa. “Shut up, Layton.”
“Just saying,” he says, while watching the muted football game.
“It’s your day off,” I reply. “Why are you watching football?”
“You never have a day off when your body is your instrument.”
The gagging sounds come from Brighton who ambles over and gives him a friendly shove to the back of the head.
“Your instrument?” she asks, a look of fake disgust on her face. “Whatever, pretty boy.”
“Yeah.” He stands and lifts his shirt to show his eight-pack. “Think these make themselves?”
“Cover yourself up, boy,” Pop calls. “Some of us don’t want to lose our appetites, besides soup’s on. Gather around.”
We all meet around the table, shoulder to shoulder.
“I’m not generally the praying type, but I wanted to tell each and every one of you…
” His eyes move around the table. “I’m thankful you are here.
This year has seen some terrible losses…
Emilia, Emerson, and … Bronwyn,” he adds after a slight pause.
“But to our family, we’ve also added Willa and Emberleigh and Colt. ”
“Cote,” Colt says and throws his hands up, to which the whole room erupts, saying Colt back to him.
“That joy,” Pop continues. “That joy has made this tragic year worth celebrating.” He lifts a glass. “To my family, I love you and am thankful.”
“Hear, hear” and “Amen” come from around the table.
“Love you, too, Pop,” Willa adds quietly.
“Food is ready. Help yourselves,” Pop says, effectively serving as the ringmaster of this circus.
“Not you.” He puts a hand to Layton’s stomach as he passes.
“You go last for that body instrument bullshit.” The smile on Pop’s face is unmistakable.
He loves this life. His arms go around his youngest son, and he whispers something to him before pounding him on the back. “Love you, Son.”
Once we’re all settled, conversation ebbs and flows.
Next to me, Emberleigh moans. “Yum. This meat is delicious. Can you imagine anyone choosing to be a vegetarian in Texas? Sacrilege,” she says, looking around the table and ignoring my growl.
I lean down and whisper so close to her ear that she shivers, “You’ll pay for that comment later.”
She winks back. “Counting on it.”
I set my hand on her leg and trail my pinky near her panty line, just long enough to watch the blush crawl up her neck and near her chin. I remove my hand and look to my brother. “Exton, how’s life in D.C.? You sure you want to be a Fed? I mean you could be shoveling—”
“Braxton!” Emberleigh admonishes.
“Yes, baby?” I feign innocence before looking back to my brother and his fiancée.
“Actually, Braxton, D.C. life is wearing thin. We’ve bought a place outside the District and are hoping it’s a great place to eventually raise a family.” He looks at Willa. The happiness I know with Emberleigh is there on his face. Couldn’t be happier for my little brother.
“Happy for you, Exton. Where’s the house?”
“About fifteen minutes away.” He smiles, a mischievous grin playing at his mouth.
“Wow! On the Virginia side?”
“You could say that.” Willa smiles and turns to meet Exton’s gaze. He bobs his head once and she continues, “It’s farther outside the District than we ever thought, actually. You might know it. The old Freeman place downtown?”
“What?” Brighton leaps up and rushes to squat between Exton and Willa, arms thrown around them both. “Really? Here?”
“Really? You’re not messing with me?” Pop asks.
“No, Pop, we decided before…” He clears his throat, averting his eyes from Wainwright’s side of the table.
“We decided after we got engaged that we missed Texas. The District is nice, but this is home. Willa can work from anywhere, and she has a strong client base in Austin. I’m starting my own firm.
In fact, I already have contracts lined up.
Bureau has my paperwork processed. We’ll be home by Christmas. ”
I stand up, walk around the table, and drag him out of the chair. I grab him in a bear hug before pulling back, holding his shoulders. “Missed you so much. Thrilled you’ll be home.”
“You’re next,” Brighton points to Layton after I retake my seat. “Rangers always come home.”
“Not if I can help it,” he responds, not holding her eyes.
“When you’re ready, bro, we’re here. In the meantime, your cheering section is getting smaller on the East Coast and concentrating in the Hill Country,” Exton adds.
Layton nods. Without any prompting, he says, “Now I know I haven’t been around in a while and I’m no body language expert like Exton. But I’m not blind either. So, Brighton? Eli? How long have y’all been a thing?”
And like a needle scratching across a record, the whole table goes silent. In unison, our heads whip to the end of the table where my sister and my best friend are caught like deer in headlights.
Busted.
What the fuck?