Page 6 of Wrecked By You

Jason laughed. “You’re already having us keep secrets, Dad. That’s not good.” The boy had turned seven a week ago, and he was smart as a whip.

I grunted. “If you don’t keep the secret, no more McDonald’s.”

“I’ll keep the secret,” Trent said from the back seat. He was almost five and a total sidekick to his brother. Granted, Jason was a pretty good big brother, even though he’d pushed him a couple of months ago and broken his arm. Which he had been punished for.

“Yes, everyone keep the secret of McDonald’s. But remember, don’t keep any other secrets, especially from your father.”

Jason laughed, and then Trent laughed, and that made me laugh because I was pretty sure that Trent didn’t get the joke.

I cut the engine, and all of us got out. The dogs were barking, and the front door was open, although the screen door was still in place. I loved the summer, and I was pretty sure my mother would be out in the garden because she loved summer too.

The kids went up the stairs. It wasn’t two seconds later that I heard another car pulling up on the gravel drive.

The boys ran back out. “Uncle Noah!” they called out simultaneously.

I grinned as I watched my brother get out of his truck and bend down to pick up both boys and put them over his shoulders. “What are you miscreants doing?”

They giggled, laughed and protested.

I held the door as Noah brought them inside. “Morning.”

Noah put them down and tickled them. “Are you ready to help your uncle pound nails today?”

They both giggled and screamed out, “Yes!”

My mother walked inside. “First, they have to help Grammy in the garden.”

“No, first they have to deal with me!” Noah tickled them some more.

They both squealed and attacked Noah.

My mother grinned. “If you want pancakes, you’ll do it.” She frowned when the boys kept playing with Noah, and then she stared at me. “You took them to McDonald’s today, didn’t you?”

I had learned a long time ago that it was pointless to lie to my mother. “No comment.”

She shook her head. “Damon, it’s horrible for them. And for you.”

I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, so I turned to Noah. “Are you sure you want them helping you today? Because I know you need to get things done.”

My brother nodded and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out his caffeinated beverage. “Of course. I need their help.”

My mother snatched the drink out of Noah’s hands. “And you shouldn’t be drinking this. It’s horrible for you. What would your wife say?”

Noah chugged out a laugh. “Woman, I’m twenty-nine years old.” He took the drink back and hugged her tightly. “I’ll drink what I want.”

I marveled at the way Noah always dealt with my mother.

She let herself be hugged and rolled her eyes. “The disrespect.”

My father opened the door. “Hello.”

“Grandpa!” My boys ran to him.

He put his hands out to them, laughing. “Little boys to eat!”

The boys giggled and pushed back his hands, which were still covered in his work gloves.

I was concerned. “Dad. You’re not supposed to do this much work. It hasn’t been that long since the heart attack.”

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