Page 24 of Snap Shot

“You're the best son I ever had.”

“Morning.” We share a hug and exchange cheek kisses while I balance the coffee tray, the cup in my hand, and the weekend bag over my shoulder. I've been up since 4 a.m. to catch the early flight home, but the in-air nap and this medium roast have me ready for the day. “I'm your only son. It's too bad your firstborn is feral.”

She smacks my arm mid-sip. “Be nice to your sister.”

Fat chance. Laney is a pain in the ass. God knows how her husband deals with her.

“I got her an Iced Capp. That's more than she deserves.” I crane my neck into each of the childless rooms we pass on the way to the den. Used bowls rest by the sink and cereal boxes stand on the kitchen table. Cheerios and Corn Flakes scatter the floor underneath. “Where is everyone?”

“Delaney's got the kids in the bath,” Mom says, pulling the panels of her blue-striped robe closed and plopping down on the couch. “Seth went on a bachelor weekend fishing trip with his brothers. You know Daniel's getting married, right?”

I nod.

“And your dad's on his morning run.”

Puffy bags wrinkle under her eyes with her next smile. It's a sure sign she had a twelve-hour shift the day before. While her job as a nurse at Henry Ford over the border in Detroit brought us to Windsor, I've told her countless times she doesn't have to work so hard anymore. But Mom's Mom.

“Ah. First shift giving you hell?”

“Could be worse. They're so short-staffed. I feel bad saying no.”

I lean back and mirror my mother's position, propping my feet up next to hers and gazing up at the white ceiling while drinking our coffee together in a rare moment of silence. It's strange coming home as an adult, but also something peaceful in that almost nothing has changed. She and Dad still live together, despite being divorced for years. They’re best friends, and while it may not be society's normal, it's our normal.

The security system beeps and Dad appears at the front door, jogging through the foyer and slowing as he nears.

“Landy!” He dries the sweat from his face and neck with the small towel hanging from his running belt. Spread arms greet me, clapping my back through the embrace. As always, he plants a kiss on my temple. “Love you, baby boy. Good to see you.”

I let him have it. I don't get enough time with these goofballs.

He catches his breath, hands on his waist, t-shirt drenched and running shorts sticking to his thighs.

“Lookin' good, old man.” I tease, laying a playful hook into his shoulder. Dad jabs me in the gut a couple of times in response. “How ya doin’?”

“Can't complain,” he shrugs. “What about you? You got your mother and I worried.”

“Eh—” My complaint gets cut short with the storming of tiny feet down the stairwell.

High-pitched shrieks crescendo in our direction before Sadie and Gunnar bound into my squatting form on the floor. I scoop them up, the little rascals, in each arm. They wriggle in my grip as I stand, giggling at the tickle of my fingers digging into their sides.

“Who are these big kids?”

“Put medownnnn, Uncle Landy!” Sadie arches and flails. I nearly drop her. She's fucking strong for a four-year-old.

“Down, Unku!” Gunnar parrots his sister. “Outside!” He points repeatedly to the patio door.

I send an inquisitive look to my mom, who agrees over her coffee cup, the lid now discarded. When I release them, they scamper to the back of the house and slide the glass door open, dancing and jumping across the pavers and into the grass.

Delaney ambles into the room with an exasperated sigh, jeans and tee dotted with splashes. She tilts her head to check on the kids, then smirks at me. Her arms move in a welcoming arc, stretching from her front to the side. “The manwhore himself is here.”

My parents groan in chorus. “Delaney!”

I laugh and slow clap at her fucking hilarious joke, then stop suddenly to give her the middle finger.

“Alright, cut it out, you guys.” Dad's attempt at reffing is fruitless.

My sister uncaps her finger like lipstick and taps on her butt pocket. “Kiss my ass, Landy.”

I pretend to swirl mine in my coffee and flick the invisible hot liquid in her face. “Get fucked.”

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