Glancing over my shoulder at my brothers, I cut the engine and got out.
“What’s the plan today, man?” Reid asked, joining me where I was leaning against the driver’s door.
Before I could answer, though, Jarrod’s new SUV pulled in beside us, and he got out on one side as our dad got out on the other.
“Yo!” he greeted as Dad rounded the front of the vehicle and came up to hug us.
Hugging him back, I waited until he was done with Canon and Reid to reply. “Hey. Do you know what we’re doing here?”
Shaking his head, Jarrod watched warily as the Townsends pulled out golf clubs and shotguns and laid them out on a table. Then again, anyone who wasn’t a Townsend—and even some who were—had the same expression on their faces. That family and guns was a scary thought, and seeing it in reality, I made a mental note to bring a Kevlar vest with me the next time they suggested doing something together.
“Should have brought my work shit,” Reid murmured beside me, glancing from Hurst to the guns he was laying out in a line. “Didn’t think I’d need my vest for lunch, though.”
“It’s the Townsends,” Canon pointed out. “Always expect the unexpected.”
Dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There’s unexpected, and then there’s unexpected. This is definitely the latter.”
Sighing, Jarrod began walking toward the family, prompting us to stop being pussies and do the same thing. Every step forward felt like I was walking in a heavy robot machine, like the ones in sci-fi space movies.
Glancing up once he was done, Hurst grinned at us. “I know it looks weird, but we have a rule in the family: guns and alcohol are a hell no. Ever. So, we figured we’d do this before anyone had a chance to consume any.” When we stared back at him blankly, he pointed at a small device. “Just to be sure, anyone who wants to play golf will have to blow into the breathalyzer.”
“Jesus,” Canon mumbled but picked it up and examined it.
“Just blow into it and wait for it to beep,” Hurst instructed. “There are clean mouthpieces for everyone and antibacterial wipes to wipe it down if you’re real squeamish about the idea of someone else’s cooties being in it before you use it.” He glared at Tom, who held his arms up in the air.
“Look, all I’m saying is that their breath could still be in there. If you blow into it, that breath will be forced to come back into your mouth because there’s nowhere else for it to go.”
“Antibacterial wipes won’t remove breath, you idiot. And, as we told you when you first did it years ago, the breath does come out of it. This is the same one the police use,” Hurst clipped as he opened a box filled with mouthpieces for the device.
“Actually, this isn’t the one we’ve got,” Reid corrected. “But it’s close.”
My brother had once been a lot like Mark Montgomery—aimless. By that, I meant he had no clue what he wanted to do in life until he decided his calling was with the police. He hadn’t made a big deal about it and had just announced it one Sunday while we were having a family meal. From what I could gather, Mark had done the same when he’d joined, but he’d likely had different reasons for it. Or maybe not. Who knew?
I’ll never forget Reid reaching over for more ackee and bacon during brunch and saying, “Did you change the recipe, Mom? This shit’s amazing.” When she’d smiled and explained what she’d done differently, he’d shoveled a forkful into his mouth and said, “That’s awesome. We need to have this every Sunday.” Then he’d scooped up a large chunk, put it in his mouth, and mumbled, “By the way, I joined the police academy.”
Because he’d spoken with his mouth full of food, Mom had begun scolding him, and then she’d realized what he’d said and had stopped with her mouth open. Then there’d been tears—either of joy or worry—and we’d all congratulated him.
He’d completed his training six weeks ago, and now he was one of the newest members of P.V.P.D. along with a couple of transfers from other police departments.
We were proud of him, and I know my parents were beyond relieved that he’d finally decided what to do with his life.
Lifting the device to his mouth, Canon blew into it until it beeped. After that, he handed it to Hurst and took a step back to wait for us to decide what we were going to do. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have joined in on anything that involved the Townsends and weapons, but I was too intrigued not to.
Changing the mouthpiece on it, I copied what Canon had done while Hurst wrote the results down on a piece of paper.