Page 29 of Upshot

“That’s what I keep saying about these two. They’re like bad pennies,” G chimes in, shaking her head.

“Oi!” Pete exclaims. “What the hell? I wasn’t even in this conversation.”

“Hey, what are we discussing?” Eliot says, walking up.

“Obnoxious family,” G offers.

“Right? One sibling whines to Mom and Dad, and we’re all stuck eating together? Especially a younger one,” Eliot agrees.

“Who’s whining?” I hear Austen ask as she joins us with Reed by her side.

“I think they’re talking about you, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of her head.

“Y’all can all suck it,” she says, pointing at her sisters. “This was Mom’s idea.”

“Speaking of. We’d better go play nice.” Eliot turns her sisters toward a table across the room.

“Hey, the guys are going to get a beer tonight, if y’all want to come,” Reed says, pointing to Pete and me. “I’m sure you’d be more than welcome for wine night at Eliot’s,” he adds to Geneva. “I’ll have Austen send you the deets.” He gives a small wave and saunters toward the other table.

“Great,” G mumbles under her breath. “Boxed wine night. What could get more exciting than that? Maybe there’ll be Twister.”

eleven

RAND

“I guess boxed wine night was a hit,” Pete says. We’re standing in the living room, each with a coffee, watching Geneva snore on the couch.

“I didn’t even hear her come in last night. The first thing I knew about it was when I came downstairs this morning.”

“Didn’t you lock your door when you got home last night?”

“I thought so. I didn’t have that much to drink. The guys should be here in a little while to help with the kitchen. I wasn’t interested in working with a hangover.”

“I thought that was the couch she deemed too horrible to even touch. But she’s okay sleeping on it? Is that drool?”

“Can you not shut up?” Geneva moans. “You’re so fucking loud. And I don’t snore or drool.”

“Really?” Pete yells. “Am I too loud?” She holds up a middle finger. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Anytime you’re ready.”

“Hey, I’m right here.” I don’t want to have to punch my best friend in the face, but I swear I will if he doesn’t knock that off.

I don’t like that he’s gone from “she’s like a sister to me” to “your sister is hot.” There was no miraculous change in her demeanor to cause his current obsession. And it’s not like she suddenly grew boobs.

In my opinion, with the short hair and flat figure, she still looks like the tomboy she’s always been. Her clothing is better though.

“Keys,” she growls, holding a hand out to Pete. When he doesn’t immediately respond, she bounces her arm up and down. “Now, Winsloe.” He finally pulls the rental car keys out of his pocket. She snatches them. Standing, she fixes us both with a glare and walks out the door.

“Dude, your sister needs to get laid.”

“No,” I warn. “My sister’s needs, sexual or other, are none of your concern.” Okay, I know it’s stupid. Even a blind man can see they’ve got it bad for each other.

But denial is my happy place. Just look at how well I’ve done facing the impending birth of my first child. If that’s not full-on mastery of refusal to embrace reality, I don’t know what is.

“Just saying,” he mumbles. He finishes his coffee and stalks into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Reed announces, sticking his head inside. “This a good time?”

“I don’t know, is it ever a good time? You tell me,” I snap. “Sorry.” Everything is starting to get to me. The baby, whatever is happening with Pete and Geneva, my basically non-existent job, the house remodel, my father’s silent treatment, Brontë. And why does nobody knock around here? But there’s no reason to take it out on Reed.

---