Page 487 of The Winslow Brothers

Jude: What do you guys think about meeting up for a drink tonight? Say, in about an hour?

Ty: I think that’s a grand idea.

Flynn: We just saw one another at Winnie’s.

Jude: Yeah, but we didn’t get to bro-out, you know?

Ty: Exactly. We should definitely bro-out tonight. And I vote that Remy has to join us.

Jude: For sure. Rem, you HAVE to come.

These fuckers. I know exactly what they’re trying to achieve.

Flynn: Remy is going to see right through your bullshit.

Obviously, Flynn knows too.

Jude: What bullshit? How is wanting to spend time with my brothers bullshit?

Ty: Yeah, Flynn. What’s the deal? You sound like an asshole right now.

Flynn: If I’m an asshole, then you two are pussies who won’t just come out and ask Remy what is going on with him.

Bingo bango.

Jude: You know, I wasn’t even thinking about that, but now that you bring it up, Flynn, I am curious. What’s going on, Rem? You left the barbecue today in a rush.

Ty: You did leave in a rush, man. Right after you were on the phone with your old high school flame Maria. It’s all pretty strange if you ask me…

Jude: Very strange. Not to mention, it usually only takes Flynn this long to respond.

Flynn: You guys are fucking idiots.

My thoughts exactly, Flynn.

Jude: Remy, are you really just going to leave us hanging, man?

Ty: Talk about a real dick move.

There’re still another twenty or so messages in the chat, all of them revolving around Jude and Ty trying to con me into telling them what’s going on, but in the periphery of my left eye, I see Izzy’s little body is just barely starting to stir from the kind of deep sleep only a baby can achieve.

She pouts her lips and squirms her tiny legs, and I know I’m going to have to move my ass if I want to get to her before she starts crying and wakes up Maria.

Gently, as I stand up from the sofa, I ease Maria off my shoulder and place a pillow under her head. But when that doesn’t feel like enough, I snag a white blanket out of a basket-thingie thatevery woman I’ve ever known seems to have and place it over her still-sleeping body.

“Okay, Miss Izzy,” I whisper toward the baby as I lift her out of her chair and into my arms. “What do you say we take this little powwow into your nursery so your mommy can sleep?”

Izzy’s big blue eyes stare back at me, and since she’s not crying or fussing, I take that as my cue that she’s on board with the plan.

Into her nursery, I shut the door behind us and lay her on the changing table across from the crib that Maria says she hates sleeping in.

“How many hours has it been since I last fed you?” I grab a fresh diaper and start unbuttoning her sleeper. “Three? Four, maybe?”

She lets out a wail once her bare legs are exposed, and I almost want to laugh at how quick she is to give me an earful when she’s not happy about something.

“You’re the kind of girl who doesn’t take any shit, huh?” I tell her while I make quick work of cleaning her up. “I can respect that. It’s a good quality to have in this world.”

Izzy cries some more, but I know the score. All she needs is a clean ass and the promise of a bottle, and she’ll be good to go.

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