She laughed. “So it’s a woman. About freaking time.”
“Molly, leave him alone, he hasn’t even been here five minutes and you’re already giving him a hard time.”
“Thanks, Tar.”
My middle sister Tara was the laidback one. After growing up in the middle of those two you didn’t have a choice but to go with the flow. And her husband Charlie was awesome. For two reasons. One, he had his own name, and two, he owned a sailing school for kids. That was cool.
My other two sisters, on the other hand, married Andrew and Andrew. Can’t make this shit up. Avery’s spouse, Andrew Kent the second, also known as Drew, had zero personality and absolutely no substance. He sort of reminded me of gagging on Farina. Not sure what Ave was thinking that day. She totally did drugs in college. While Andrew Milton the third, Molly’s husband, sold insurance. That pretty much summed that up. Good thing they all had daughters or we would be on Andrew the 8th by now.
“So what’s new, Ash, heard from Chase?” Tara popped the cap of a beer and handed it to me.
“Nah, he’s probably so far up Lili’s ass they’re gonna come back as one.”
My sisters all chuckled. The guy practically grew up in our house. They had his number too.
“You’re just jealous. They’re awesome. Lili’s such a great girl; he really lucked out. The wedding was like a fairytale.”
“I agree. It was like right out of a storybook. Amazing and beautiful. But I want to know when my baby brother is gonna have his fairytale ending.” Great, first Molly, now Avery too.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m doing just fine, living life.”
Molly leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and whispered, “That’s right, you are living. But it doesn’t mean it has to be alone. We just want to see you happy.”
“I am happy.” Something I never questioned until recently. “And I don’t know how many times I’ve told you I’m not getting married.”
“Who’s getting married?”
“Hi Ma.” I stood up and kissed my mother’s cheek. “No one. Molly is just bustin’ chops, as usual. Hey, Pops, how’s it going?”
My dad slapped my back and pulled me in for a hug. I watched my sisters’ smiles tighten imperceptibly. Since his Alzheimer’s diagnosis we couldn’t help but walk on eggshells.
“What’s happening? Where are the guys?” Everyone released the breath they were holding. My dad never forgot that when the air was suffocating with female hormones it was best to exit as quickly as possible. Today must be a good day.
“Good call. The basement, let’s go.”
Not two feet back into the house, Emma came bounding around the corner. “Pop, Unkie Ashy, see my baby, hers poops and pees.”
“She what?” My seventy-five-year-old father looked at me. I shrugged and rolled my eyes.
“Don’t ask, Pop. Emma baby, where are your cousins?”
“In the payroom doin’ dress up. I’s Tinkerbell, come see.”
So much for joining the testosterone.
“Head down, Dad, I’ll go with Emma for bit.” My dad appreciated the reprieve. He patted her head and bolted, while I let Emma tug me away. “Where to, darling?”
One step through that door and I knew I was not leaving the same way I came in. “Girls, holy … what the...” My voice trailed off before I dropped the f-bomb in front of my three to thirteen-year-old nieces. “Do your mothers know what you’re doing?” I coughed then held my breath. Between the colored hair spray, nail polish fumes and feathers floating through the air I was sure I was high. They were covered in every shade of eye shadow and lipstick showered with glitter and sequins. It was like Barbie vomited all over Tweetie.
“Hey, Uncle Asher. We’re just practicing for Halloween. What are you dressing up as? Mom said you had a cool grown-up party to go to?” the oldest chimed in.
“Don’t know, any ideas?”
One of my biggest clients hosted one of those over-the-top parties every year. It was stupid, but I still had to make an appearance. Remember where your bread was buttered bullshit.
“Come on, Uncle Asher, Halloween’s next week. You need a cool costume.”
“Cool, huh?” As for my costume, it didn’t matter as long as whoever was on my arm had fishnets and thigh highs. And then I cringed and wished those thoughts away because my five nieces were standing in front of me. Some douche would be drooling over them soon enough. I did not envy my brothers-in-law. All I knew was if I ever had a girl, not that I could or would, but if I did, I sure as hell would keep her locked in her room until she was twenty-five. “Well let’s not waste all this hard work. Get together. I want a pic of all of you in your costumes since I won’t see you next week.” I snapped a shot with my cell and decided I needed that testosterone ASAP.
“Unkie Ashy, wait, my wings is falling off. My wings is broookeeen.” Cue flail on the floor and sob, the kid went boneless. I peeled her screaming jellied body off the carpet and deposited her with my mother and fled the scene without a glance back.
Bet you can’t beat this.
I sent Talia the photo of my nieces. My five girls.
Wow. I see you sat this one out...
Afraid pink and feathers might ruin ur complexion
And I bet I can...
A second text immediately followed, a picture. A rock formation with water flowing into a spectacular crystal blue pool. But that’s not what I focused on. The picture was snapped from someone sitting on a plush lounge chair with bare legs and perfectly manicured crossed feet. Images of rolling my tongue up that silky smoothness while caressing those pale pink toes flooded my vision. Shit. I stepped into the bathroom and adjusted my jeans.
You win.
I joined the men in the basement and fortunately missed the lame tool discussion. Then again, it might have bored my dick back to soft. Damn picture. Charlie was talking about a new sailboat he was considering. A fifty-foot catamaran. Impressive.
“Man, that’s awesome. Congrats. Can’t wait to go out with you in the spring.” I grew up with a boat and definitely got the appeal. It wasn’t the adrenaline rush from a killer mountain bike ride or a rock climb, but I wouldn’t mind getting back out on the water.
“Yeah, I’m psyched. I’ve always wanted something like this, but I haven’t had the balls to pull the trigger. We need another vessel in the water, especially with the school expansion. Just hope we can pull it off.”
I assumed his sailing school was killing it. But what did I know? My sisters were as proud as my old man. To truly enjoy it, you needed to earn it. Stubborn family trait. Like I was one to talk. “Speaking of, I was talking about your sail school with one of my clients.” White lie. “He’s always looking for investments and write offs. Told him about the program you ran last summer with the special needs kids. He’s interested in funding it. All of it. Say the word. I’ll set it up.”
“Shit. That would be amazing. That’s a huge draw on the budget.”
“Done. I’ll make the call. One condition—you pull the trigger on the fifty-footer and I get to take her for a spin.”
“You got it. Thanks, bro.”
“You don’t have to thank me, man. Easy work for my firm and I just scored free sailing. Win, win.” We clinked our beers and I made a mental note to create another imaginary client, as well as make another deposit into the kids’ trust funds. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. They deserved it.