Page 96 of When We Burn

“Oh, okay,” Birdie whispers as she leans on my shoulder.

Millie and I share a look. She wipes a tear from her cheek, and then we nod and stand from our seats. I pick up Birdie and carry her inside.

“They need a minute,” I tell my daughter as I set her on the stool at the island.

“I hate that they didn’t have parents to lean on,” Millie says, wiping her eyes, “but I love that they have each other.”

“Darby’s going to be awesome.” I glance outside and see Holden wiping the tears from Darby’s cheeks. “It’s going to be scary, but she’ll kick ass.”

“I can’t imagine starting college in my mid-thirties,” Millie says, shaking her head. “That’s incredible.”

“It’s not like we’re old, you know.”

“You are old,” Birdie says as if she’s breaking bad news to me, patting me on the shoulder, and Millie busts up laughing. “Sorry, Dad.”

“Why are we sorry?” Dani asks as she walks through the door, wiping the last of her tears away.

“Dad’s old,” Birdie replies.

“Oh, I knew that.”

I narrow my eyes on her. “Get over here.”

With a sassy grin on her delectable lips, she saunters over to me. “Yes?”

Leaning in, I press my lips to her ear and whisper, “That’s one less orgasm for you tonight.”

“I have a secret for you,” she says. “It was worth it.”

We’re absolutely, squarely into fall. Now that we’re into the middle of October, all the trees are in the process of shedding their leaves. My parents will be here tonight for the next week so Mom can do all her favorite fall activities, and the weather will continue to get colder.

Brooks is finally finished fixing Dani’s car, so I’m walking over to my brother’s automotive garage to pick it up for her. I had the day off after a particularly grueling six straight days of work.

The arsonist struck again this week.

The motherfucker.

A bell dings when I push the door open and walk inside of my brother’s business. It smells like motor oil and tires, and I grin at Brooks when his head pops up out of an engine.

“Hey,” he calls out, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Bad time?”

“Nah, it’s fine. You here for Dani’s car?”

I nod and lean on the counter. Brooks is the oldest of us. He’s in his late thirties and is built like a brick shithouse.

Whatever the hell that means.

We’re all big guys. It’s in the genes. But Brooks puts in extra hours in the gym, and it shows.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask him.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and takes a drink of water. “It was a cheap part, but it was a bitch tearing the engine apart to replace it.”

“I’ll pay you for your time, you know.”

“Dude, you’re my brother. I’m not taking your money. How is Dani, anyway?”

---