Even Boone.
But seeing the pain on my little brother’s face because Dad is too busy fucking off to support him? That I can’t deal with. That I don’t understand. But I can’t say all of that because it’ll rile Boone up, and that will make matters worse.
“It’s his loss,” I say, trying my best to keep my tone free from the anger beginning to roll through me. “I know that’s a cliché thing to say, but it’s true.”
“I know.”
Boone rests his elbows on the island and, for the first time in his life, the levity that’s always close to the surface with him is nowhere to be seen.
“Has Mom said anything about him not being here?” I ask. “Is she pissed too?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. You know Mom. She’s not about to show a split in the Mason household. She’ll ride out a unified front until the end.”
“Yeah.”
I sigh. I don’t know how or why Mom does it. I’d hoped things would be different when Dad retired a few years ago and that he would spend all of the time he typically spent in the office with her. She deserves that. Only, he didn’t.
Instead of taking Mom to dinner, or helping Boone navigate fatherhood, or having Sunday dinners with his kids, he gallivants all over creation. He plays poker. He enters into fishing tournaments. He plays golf like I used to play travel baseball—like it’s a fucking job. I get that he wants to enjoy his life. I just wish his enjoyment didn’t come at our expense and that it didn’t leave Mom on her own so much. I know she’s blazed her own trail in life with her jewelry shop and all of that, but I think she’s lonely.
“Anyway,” Boone says with a grin, “on to more important matters—what did you get my girl for her birthday?”
“You’re gonna love me,” I say, grinning back.
His smile falters. “When you say things like that, it usually means I’m not gonna love you.”
“I couldn’t resist.”
I scoop up a huge dollop of ranch on another carrot and toss it in my mouth. I watch him squirm while I chew. Slowly.
After I swallow and take a long drink of water from a bottle I find in the refrigerator, I put him out of his misery.
“I got her a battery-operated Escalade that she can ride in,” I say, popping my collar. “It has a fucking radio in it and everything.”
“Okay. That’s cool.”
“You’re damn right it’s cool. I’m determined to take over the favorite uncle role from Wade.”
Boone rolls his eyes. “Well, good luck with that. I’m still trying to make her like me more than him, and I bought her a fucking puppy!”
I can’t help but laugh.
“Boys, I’m heading home,” Mom says, poking her head around the corner. “I have a big meeting in the morning about getting my jewelry into gift bags at a big music event in Nashville.”
“Good luck,” Boone tells her, hopping off his stool.
“If you need anything, just call.” I walk across the room and kiss her cheek again. “Love you, Mom.”
She pats the side of my face. “I love you, boys.”
“We love you too.” Boone kisses her other cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
Mom’s smile softens. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” She looks at Boone and then back at me. “I’m so proud of you both. All of you, really.”
“Nice of you to include Wade, although that wasn’t necessary,” Boone jokes.
I laugh as Mom taps Boone on the nose.
“Be nice,” she tells him. “I’m going to tell my beautiful granddaughter and daughter-in-law goodbye. You two behave. And if you ever withhold information from me again, Boone ...”
Boone sticks out his lower lip. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
She laughs. “You’re too cute for your own good. Good night, boys.”
“Bye, Mom,” I say.
“Good night, Mom,” Boone says too.
She grins and turns away to find Jaxi and Rosie.
I head back to my plate on the island. Rosie’s laughter filters down the hall as she apparently sees her Iggy, the nickname she uses for Mom. It’s followed by Mom’s voice mixing with Jaxi’s.
This is a very different house than it was a few months ago when the only decorations were stacked ramen containers and the only sound was a sports channel that Boone forgot to turn off as he fell asleep when he should’ve been getting up for work.
“How does all of this feel?” I ask before taking a drink of my water.
“All of this what?” Boone asks, getting situated on the stool again.
“This.” I look around the room, screwing the cap back on the bottle. “You’re getting married. You basically have a kid. You own apartment complexes, for crying out loud. You even come into the office. Regularly. I’ve known you for almost thirty years, and I’ve only been certain that you’re my brother for the last month.”