COLTON

I scowlas I hand the phone back to my sister .

“What?” Sarah asks, laughing. “Did that not work the way you expected?” She scans the texts and her jaw drops. “Dude. I’m so mad at you right now, I don’t know what to do with myself. Not cool, douchebag. Tessa’s my friend.” With a wave of her phone and a roll of her eyes, Sarah drops her head back on the back of the couch. “You pretty much cockblocked yourself with that one .”

“Cockblocked? She’s the one who’s cockblocked. That woman is totally blocked,” I gesture at my lap, “from this — ”

Sarah holds up a hand. “Enough!” She sighs. “I don’t need to hear anymore .”

“I can’t imagine what you like about her. She’s so…” I sit, fuming, trying to find the word. “So…” I stand. “She’s a total bitch .”

“She really isn’t. Tessa is sweet and kind and has her head on straight. Something I know you might never understand or appreciate, but I find it refreshing .”

“You go right ahead and keep her. I want nothing to do with the woman .”

“That’s good because you won’t have a chance after this. Tessa is gentle. She’s like this little bunny out in the field, nibbling at wildflowers and you just stomped into that field, letting off shotgun blasts .”

“Great.” Irreverent asshole. Honey on a biscuit, my ass. “Good riddance .”

“Says you. Now I have to apologize to my friend.” Sarah reads the texts again. “She’s right, you know. You can really be a jerk .”

“Ouch.” I place a hand over my heart. “You wound me, sister .”

She takes a swig of beer. As is our custom when dealing with difficult topics, Sarah changes the subject, brushing away our previous conversation as if it never happened. “This looks like a massacre,” she says, pointing to the TV with her bottle .

“Yeah. There’s no turning this game around.” I drop back onto the couch, anger still burning through my system .

Where does that woman get off calling me an asshole? All I did was make sure my niece had a little something fun before I dropped her off at the prison where they cram an institutionalized education into her head. So I taught my niece it’s important to make life fun? It’s not like I told her it was okay to steal or cheat or kill. People take life too seriously and I don’t want our little Claire Bear to fall into that trap. She’s this vivacious little thing who’s already been through too much in her short life. Where’s the harm in stopping for donuts and missing a few hours of school when she has otherwise perfect attendance and her report card is a militant line of A’s marching across the screen? I mean, really ?

“What do the two of you even do together?” I ask Sarah .

She turns to me. “Are you still hung up on Tessa, Yosemite Sam ?”

“Yosemite Sam?” I grab my hat off the floor and put it back on my head .

“Yeah. If she’s a bunny, you’re the big ape of a man chasing her off with shotgun blasts and shitty texts .”

“Whatever. She’s not innocent in this. She called me an asshole before I called her a bitch .”

“No. For all she knew, she was telling me that I was right when I called you an asshole. You used my phone and didn’t bother to tell her it wasn’t me. Again, this is me being furious with you. I’ve tried to apologize six times and she won’t answer.” Sarah runs her hands into her hair and shakes it out. “It’s not worth ruining your Sunday over. You’re not the one whose asshole brother hurt a good friend’s feelings. There’s no need for you to sit here mad about it .”

Except I’m not an asshole. I’m not. If anyone would ever take the time to really look at my life, really understand the things I’ve done, they’d see that everything, every single decision I’ve made, boiled down to making someone else’s life easier. I’ve never explained my choices to anyone, nor do I want to. I’m content to finish out my life, making the smallest footprint I possibly can while I ensure Carmichael Farms has the help it needs to succeed for David’s kids. I hate that I get to carry around the title irreverent asshole because I’ve decided to have enough fun to make up for all the sacrifices no one’s paid enough attention to know I made .

I slip off my hat and put it on my knee. Sarah was right to change the subject the last time. There’s nothing but bitterness in this conversation. “Any chance you’d want to join me and the guys for poker?” I ask .

Sarah shakes her head. “No way, man. That’s too much, too soon .”

“Too soon? It’s been five years since you were home .”

“Not true. I was there for David’s wedding .”

“Right. And you slipped out before Mom and Dad could even ask how you’re doing .”

Sarah doesn’t respond and I don’t push the issue. This isn’t my fight and I have no idea how to fix what’s broken between them. “I feel like it’s only safe to warn you that David will probably be here soon to collect my happy ass. In case you want to leave before he sees you .”

Sarah frowns. Her problem with our parents doesn’t really extend to David, even if it is indirectly his fault in her mind. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly while she considers her answer. “You know what? I’m gonna go. Thanks for the heads up .”

Sarah puts her half-empty beer on my coffee table and stands. I walk her to the door, wrap her in a big hug, and step away when she thumps me on the back, acting more like a dude than my sister. “Don’t be a stranger,” I say .

“Right. Back atcha.” Sarah hurries off the makeshift porch and into her car. I wait until she’s out of view before I step inside, turn off the TV, and make the trek over to the house that was almost mine .