Page 42 of The Sleight Before Christmas

“Mep,” Whitney says, her fondness for Peyton’s old substitution for yes and her nephew in her delivery. Even as she uses it to regale the worst imaginable story. “Lorena straight up took the biggest one for our team. Did both the crime and the time being the first to take the verbal threat we’ve all made at one point to our mennext level... making her my unspoken hero.”

“I really loved being your brother,” Eli imparts gravely. “But I can’t sleep next to my new wife anymore.”

I grin as Serena speaks up.

“Mine too. Did she even do jail time? I’m going to Google it.” Serena states.

“Why?” Whitney prompts. “Want to see how much time you’ll serve if you hack Thatch’s winky?”

“I really loved you both,” I speak up in my own farewell. “I mean it,” I add before looking pointedly at Eli. “Thanks for this. You’ve ruined my marriage.”

“We married lunatics,” Brenden deduces, and we all nod in agreement.

“Turned out pretty well for the husband, John, I think that’s his name,” Whitney informs. “He went on to do pornos after he got it sewed back on.”

We all grimace at the thought, our shared pain visceral.

“Eww, and that’s kind of fascinating,” Erin says. “Unspoken hero,” she giggles. The sound eerie now that the good, close to saintly sister has gone bad.

“My wife can’t hang out with your wives any longer,” Brenden states emphatically. “I won’t have it.”

“Damn, can you imagine? It’s the ultimate revenge,” Serena boasts, a little too dreamily, as I shake my head in disappointment and reply to Brenden.

“I don’t blame you, man. Not at all.”

“Okay,” Whitney says, “let’s list what offenses we would all cut our husband’s dicks off for.”

The three of us are now plastered to the wall, and we lean in, cupping our mouths to make sure not a syllable is missed as we hold our collective breath.

“If Thatch ever says ‘here we go again,’” Serena states. “I will seriously consider that jail time.”

“Put that on my list, too,” Erin pipes as Brenden and I share an eye roll.

“Here we go again?” Whitney asks.

“Oh, you poor, clueless little newlywed. Well, good on you. That doozy is probably around four to six years into the marriage timeline. You’ve got time,” Serena reports. “Cherish it.”

“They’re onto us,” I decide. “We’re busted,” I look over to Eli. “Game over, Welch. You get an A for effort, but you should know by now there’s very little you’ll get past a Collins girl. Especially for this long.”

“You’re sure?” Eli asks, closing the window.

“Mep,” I state, a tug in my heart because I can hear Peyton saying it.

“Well, shit,” Brenden says, “that was pretty anticlimactic.”

“That’s what your wife said,” Eli and I quip at the exact same moment before sharing a fist bump.

“Hey,” Brenden snaps suddenly, and Eli and I jerk back. “I’ve got something for you both,” he digs into his pocket a second before gifting us twin birds. “Here you go, this one’s for you, yep, Merry Christmas.”

“Shit, it’s been fifteen minutes,” I say, my buzz kicking in, “we need to check on the kids,” I look at Brenden. “Or someone does.”

“That’s not that long,” Eli says as Brenden and I both turn to him.

“That’sforty-fiveyears in parenting,” Brenden relays. “Go, you have as many as I do.”

“Uh, buddy, recheck your finger count because I’m pretty sure you have more winning sperms than I do.”

“Which is as many as you, plusone more,” he counters.

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