Page 71 of Overachiever
“I would be too,” Owen says. “Have you told Mom?”
Joel shakes his head. “No, we plan to tomorrow. Lina wanted to wait until she was three months along. That’s today.”
“Oh, Mom is going to lose it! A grandkid!” Carter exclaims. “She’ll be buying baby clothes an hour after you tell her.”
Owen leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know whether to say congratulations or I’m sorry,” he confesses. “How are you feeling about it?”
Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s go with congratulations. Once I stop feeling like I might throw up, I’m sure I’ll be more excited.”
Owen gets up and hugs his brother. “Congratulations.”
A lump grows in my throat as I watch Carter do the same. It was so simple. He told them what was going on, and they supported him. No judgment. No admonishment for not planning better. Just love.
I’ve stayed quiet during this family moment, but I congratulate him as well.
Joel lights another joint, and we’re about halfway through it when we start walking back toward the house. I’m not sure about them, but I’m so stoned all I can do is look around and take in the moonlit scene. Everything is beautiful.
Carter is also gazing at the sky. “Do you think there’s sex after you die?”
Yeah, he’s just as high as me.
“Depends on your mortician,” Joel says.
“Oh my god. Gross!” I cry, covering my mouth. Owen isn’t the only funny one in his family.
As we reach the edge of the backyard, Owen blurts, “I’m starving.” As soon as he says it, I am too. Munchies are brutal.
“Let’s raid the kitchen,” Carter suggests. “I want some ice cream.”
“Keep the news just between us until we tell Mom,” Joel reminds us.
Owen slings his arm around my neck, and I hold his hand. “Dude, if it’s a boy, you should name him Odysseus. Because he made it through the Trojan wall.”
“Shh,” Joel shushes us. “We don’t want to wake anyone.”
We creep in through the back door and down the hall to the kitchen. Owen cuts both of us a slice of cherry pie, and we sit at the table to eat while his brothers get their food.
Here’s the thing, high people aren’t quiet. Especially when Carter opens the freezer over the fridge and a chunk of meat falls onto his foot. “Ow,” he hisses. He bends to pick it up, stands up, and hits his head on the open freezer door. “Ah! Fuck!”
We may have been able to control the volume of our laughter over that first hit, but we all lose it at the second. Which is probably why their Dad comes in to see what’s going on. Alan Wright is a stocky guy in his late fifties with a quick smile and easygoing attitude.
Carter and Joel both pause, and Joel says, “Oh, hi Dad. Did we wake you?”
“I generally like to see what’s going on when it sounds like giant rats are invading the kitchen.” He glances around the room. “You guys are stoned.”
“We are not,” Carter argues.
Alan nods to the bowl sitting in front of Joel and the carton in his hand. “Uh-huh. You just wanted a nice bowl of apple juice then?”
Joel looks down and snorts out a laugh. A bowl of apple juice sits on the counter beside a glass and a box of cereal.
It’s too much. My entire body shakes with the effort to hold the laughter in, and when Owen looks at me we both give up the fight. Tears pour down my face while Joel stares down at his mistake.
“Go ahead and pour yourself a glass of corn flakes,” Owen says. “It’s part of a complete breakfast.”
Once I get myself under control, I see Alan shaking his head and grinning. “You’d better make sure the dishes end up in the dishwasher or your mom will hunt you down. Good night, dumbasses.”
After our food and laugh fest, we finally go to bed. I’m high and stuffed full of delicious food. Owen’s lips taste like cherries when I kiss him good night, and I can’t remember the last time I was so content.
