Page 198 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Lennox nods. “Face it. You’re already invested, man. You’re too far in.”
So far, I haven’t framed it this way. I’ve thought about how overwhelming it might be if I stay and commit. I haven’t really considered the bleakness of what it would feel like if I didn’t. And not just because I’d be walking away from Lila. I’d be walking away fromJack,too.
Shock roils through me.
I haven’t spent enough time with Jack to love him in the same way I do his mom. But he belongs to Lila. He’s a part of her.
Which means, he’s a part of me now, too.
I think of the apple tree mug sitting on the kitchen counter back at the house, and the way Jack so easily announced over his pancakes that I was his stairdad. My heart pulls and stretches, and I lift a hand to my chest, rubbing the spot.
“Let go of your doubts, man,” Brody says. “Just go for it. Trust that love is enough. That you are enough.”
Lennox coughs loudly, the noise shifting into what sounds a little too much like a chicken. Then he makes the sound again. “Bwak, bwak, bwak.”
Is he actually making chicken noises at me? Are we in the third grade?
“Bwak, bwak,” he whispers.
Brody and Tyler join Lennox’s chorus, their arms flapping like tiny wings. “Bwak, bwak, bwak.”
I stand up from the bar. “Okay. That’s my cue to leave.”
Their chicken noises follow me all the way to the door.
“You’re all idiots,” I call back to them just before pushing my way outside.
“You’re welcome,” they call back in weirdly synchronized unison.
As I drive home, a new sort of peace settles over me. Idiots or not, my brothers are right. Iamtoo invested. I don’t want to fail. But walking away would be the biggest failure of all.
Which means I have to figure out how to swallow my doubts and dive in.
And then get myself to a soccer game first thing tomorrow.
Cabbages.
I can’t believe CABBAGES are going to make me miss my chance with Lila and Jack.
An entire semi of them, turned over on I-26 and blocking both lanes of northbound traffic.
I’m only a mile outside of Silver Creek, at a standstill because ofcabbage.
I glance at my watch. It’s been twenty minutes already, and I haven’t moved an inch.
A pang of sympathy runs through me. That’s somebody’s harvest on that truck, representing months of work down the drain. But mylifeis going to be down the drain if I can’t figure out how to get around this mess.
When an errant cabbage bounces past my window, I give up and call my brother.
“Hey, are you busy?” I ask as soon as Brody answers.
“No, but shouldn’tyoube busy?”
“I’m on my way to the game, but I need you to come pick me up. I’m on the interstate, and there are cabbages everywhere. Traffic is blocked.”
“Did you just say cabbages?”
“Details aren’t important, man,” I say. “The clock is ticking. Can you come?”
