Page 19 of Two Guys One Puck
“I know, but I can’t stop her. Emily does what she wants.” He’s right about that. His sister always took care of her brothers, but the burden increases every year between Garret’s wife dying so suddenly last year and Dad’s MS. We don’t need to break her, too. She’s the only one keeping things together with the business and my youngest brother while Otto and I are at school.
“She needs a damn vacation.” I carry the dishes back into the kitchen and find a place for them on the crowded counter.
“You try to tell her that.”
“Tell me what?” Emily asks, coming out of the bathroom.
“You could have fucking warned me she was here!” I scoff, opening my arms to give her a hug.
She wraps her tiny self around me. “And stop you from talking shit? You should know better.” She’s more like a sister to me than an aunt because she’s only ten years older than I am. She moved in after our mother died and got us through a lot. She’s basically Zeph’s mom since he doesn’t remember ours.
“It’s not shit if it’s true.” I release her and turn to try and make a dent in the dishes so I can have some room to cook. “When are you going to take time for yourself?”
“Who’s got the time? I’m still not through all the work that piled up after Aunt Linda…” She doesn’t have to say it.
Shit has been real hard since Garrett lost his wife. She did all the books for my uncle’s business and kept everything running. No one’s done well in her absence. All made worse by my dad being unable to work anymore. He did for as long as he could, but eighteen months ago, he got a really bad flair, and even though he’s back in remission, he hasn’t been the same.
“I’m going to make you take one one of these days.” After next year. If I can secure a good contract and a big payout, I can make everyone’s lives easier.
We all just have to hold out a little bit longer. I pray they can.
“When are you going to take a break?” She purses her lips but grabs a towel and comes over to take the dishes after I wash them.
I lift my shoulders. “When I’m dead.”
“That comes sooner than you think,” my dad calls from the den.
“Your fucking morbid ass humor,” Emily says through a laugh.
I roll my eyes at the both of them. “Did he eat?”
She shakes her head. “Not yet. I thought about doing some spaghetti.”
“I can make some up when we’re done with this.”
“I can help.” She does the last of the dishes while I take inventory of the groceries she brought. “You’re going to spoil Zeph. Pop? We’ve never had pop in the house.”
“With all the overtime I’m working, someone should enjoy it.”
“His coach isn’t gonna like it.” I get the ground beef going, and she adds spices over my shoulder. The fucking micro-managing in this family.
“What isn’t my coach going to like?” Zeph asks, coming out of his room with one ear off his headphones.
“All this fucking sugar Aunt Emily brought you.” I dice tomatoes and onions.
Zeph comes over to sit on the newly cleaned counter. “As long as I play, he won’t care.”
Otto and I are good at hockey, but Zeph is like a savant. He’s better than both of us. He’s probably the one my dad and uncle think will actually play in the NHL because he’s a center. It’s harder to get noticed when I’m not the one scoring the goals.
“You didn’t even do the dishes. You don’t deserve Emily bringing you treats.” I shoot him a glare, but he knows I’m not being mean.
“Sorry. I forgot.” He jumps off the counter, going to the fridge to get one of the contraband sodas.
“And it’s Dr. Pepper, of all things.” I fake a gag, then take the diced tomatoes and put them in another pot with tomato paste and the rest of the ingredients. Once all that is going, I resist the pop calling my name and get water. After all day in the heat, Iknow my body needs it, and I have to stay in top form so I don’t make an ass of myself at the camp. Which reminds me. “Hey, Em?”
“Yes?” she says, looking up from her phone.
“Can you help out July ninth through thirteenth so I can be in the city?”
