Page 1 of Ask for Moore

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Ryland

When I went to law school, I had big plans that didn’t involve returning to Mooreville. After passing the bar on my first attempt, I got a job at a firm in Indianapolis and was promoted to a non-equity partnership in only five years. My life, including the perfect bachelor pad downtown, was exactly how I’d pictured it.

By the time I hit the ten-year mark and was offered the opportunity to buy in as an equity partner, a lot of the shine of working for a big firm had worn off. Then my cousin Baxter made the move from New York City to Mooreville, and I decided he had the right idea. My hundred and fifty thousand dollars would be better spent to start my own firm back home. I wouldn’t have to answer to anyone except my clients, and I’d get much more time with my family.

Living a couple of hours away had gotten more difficult as I got older. The drive wasn’t that far, but my work schedule meant that my visits were sporadic, and I missed out on a lot of family events. Now that I’d moved back home, I was here for all the get-togethers—big and small. And there were a hell of a lot of them since my female relatives came up with all sorts of excuses to meet up. Case in point, the reason I was lugging a dozen bottles of wine to my grandparents’ house.

As I climbed the porch steps, the door was flung open, and Skylar shouted over her shoulder, “Ryland is finally here with the whites.”

“Finally?” I muttered to Baxter when he took the box from me after I passed his wife, who held the door open for me.

“She’s a little excited,” he explained before making a beeline for the kitchen with Skylar hot on his heels.

Simon rolled his eyes. “Only if being a little excited means she’s been waiting at the window for you to show up with wine she’ll actually drink.”

After I brushed a kiss against the top of little Franklin’s head, I clapped Simon on the shoulder. “I see that you’re putting my gift to good use.”

Skylar’s teenage son was carrying his baby brother strapped to his chest in a carrier. Most boys his age would have pitched a fit over something their friends would’ve considered to be uncool, but he looked at ease wearing the contraption. It probably helped that I’d picked one that looked like a tactical vest for body armor since I figured Baxter would appreciate at least one manly gift during the baby shower.

“Yeah, my baby bro has hella good taste.” His lips curved into a smirk as he cupped Franklin’s back while swaying from side to side. “He puts up less of a fuss when I’m the one carrying him around.”

“He’s lucky to have a big brother like you.” I hadn’t been as much help with Silas or Ethan, but in my defense, I was only two and four when they were born. Simon had sixteen years on his brother.

Simon’s expression softened as he glanced down at the baby. “I gotta get my time in with him before I head off for college.”

It was hard to believe the teenager was going to graduate from high school in less than three months. Simon had been a sophomore when my cousin started dating his mom, and he’d grown up so much in the past couple of years. I had gotten the chance to get to know him better when he picked my brain about Notre Dame while he was choosing where he wanted to send applications.

Although I’d done my undergrad at Purdue, I had gone to law school there. After I gave him the inside scoop, he decided to apply restrictive early action. He got his admission letter before Christmas and accepted it last month after weighing his options. The kid was as smart as a whip, and I had no doubt he’d do well there. “Graduation is just around the corner. Do you have any special requests for gifts?”

“Cash is always good.”

“True,” I agreed with a chuckle. “But don’t talk yourself out of another present.”

“Well, if we’re talking about something in addition to the check you’re gonna give me”—he wagged his eyebrows—“then you could pay for my season tickets.”

Attending games was a long-standing Notre Dame student tradition, so I wasn’t surprised Simon planned on taking advantage of the seats offered to undergrads. The team had one of the biggest fan bases in the country, and access to the games was a big perk of going there. Watching them play was a bucket list item for most college football fans, even if the team wasn’t one of their favorites.

The Fighting Irish football experience was special, and I was thrilled that Simon had asked me to give it to him. “Scratch them off your list.”

“Thanks. That’s bussin.”

While getting to know my cousin by marriage, I had learned that teenagers had their own vocabulary that was as foreign to adults as legalese was to non-lawyers. “You’re welcome.”

I wandered around the room, greeting my family members with kisses for the women and back slaps for the men. Almost everyone was there, with a few exceptions like Dean and Vienna, who were already in the Netherlands for her speed skating competition early next month.

Being surrounded by the whole Moore clan was what I’d been missing while I lived in Indianapolis. But that didn’t stop me from giving my mom a hard time when I found her in the kitchen.

“Thanks for bringing more supplies, sweetie.”

After brushing a kiss against her cheek, I jerked my chin toward the bottles lined up on the counter. “National Wine Day, really?”

My mom patted my cheek with a smile. “Any excuse to get the family together.”

“This one’s stretching it, don’t you think?”

“Not even a tiny bit,” she denied with a shake of her head.

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