“Exactly, I don’t need your help.” I give Brett’s shoulder a squeeze. I know he means well. As the oldest child in his family, with a father who was absent, Brett constantly feels like he needs to protect everyone around him.
As the older brother in my family, I get where his overprotectiveness stems from. Mom divorced my dad when I was eight. He was a professional hockey player who cheated on her, but when they divorced Dad walked away from me too. I had a bad stutter he hated, and I wasn’t the son he envisioned he would have as a professional player. Mom then married aguy named Ryan and had my sister, Jane, and my brother, Jack. When she divorced Ryan, she promised she was done with men but she met Calder and married him. He was another loser and it was me who was there to pick up the pieces of her broken heart when she’d fall apart and couldn’t do anything around the house, like take care of my siblings.
Most of the guys go off to dance. They are friends with Ellie, the bride, and her friends. Brett sticks by me. “Aren’t you going to dance?”
“Nah.” He shrugs. “Have you seen Willow?” he asks of Ellie’s good friend.
“No,” I reply.
“Weird, they’re like best friends. You’d think she would come to her wedding,” Brett says, looking thoughtful, which doesn’t happen too often.
“That is strange,” I agree.
“Come on, let’s do shots,” he says, smacking my chest.
“No way, I just had way too much cake. I’ll puke.”
“I don’t understand you,” he says, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll go find me a cute waitress to shag.”
“Not Taylor,” I warn, lifting up my finger.
“Bro, I’m offended. I would never steal your girl. Bro code.” He fist bumps me and I fist bump him back. This is what makes Brett a great friend. He lives by the code. He’ll never stab you in the back. He’ll always be there for you. You just need to follow the code too. Too bad that isn’t what happens. . .
CHAPTER
ONE
Madison
“Mommy, I really need to pee,” Asher complains from the back seat.
“Honey, Waze says we’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I plead. We’ve stopped five times already, making the almost two-hour drive three hours.
“I’m going to pop,” he says, breathing hard.
My Dodge Caravan is literally filled with everything I own. After I caught my boyfriend cheating, I had no choice but to move out of his place.
“Mommmeeeee,” Asher begs.
Oh, for crying out loud. I pull off to the side of the freeway, which isn’t the smartest thing to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I get out on the passenger side and take Asher out on that side too. No way do I want him close to the moving cars.
“Okay, baby, make your pee,” I urge.
He looks up at me like I am crazy for insinuating he should pee on the side of the road. “This is the only bathroom we got. Peeing in nature is good. You are watering the earth.”
“There are no plants growing here,” my five-year-old, who is too smart for his age, insists.
“Do it for Mommy. There are no bathrooms,” I say.
He begins to pee, only things get out of control and he starts to spray my jeans and sweatshirt. This day keeps getting better and better.
“All done.” He looks up to me with a sweet smile.
Now I get to show up to my brother’s house smelling like piss.
“Okay, let’s get you back in the car,” I say to my son.
He gets back in and puts on his seat belt. I close the back door and get back in on the passenger side. I merge onto the highway as the smell of piss fills my nostrils.