Lucky Baby (Crescent Cove 11)

I picked a piece of leaf off my jeans. “Not like you to try to do the small talk, bud.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I suck at it.”

“Indeed.”

“You bought a house, right?”

I sat up and swung my feet back onto the faded wood bench. “Yeah. You gave me nothing but grief about it.”

“Roots aren’t for me, Ging.”

“I didn’t think so either.” I glanced out on the lake. “They don’t seem so bad these days.”

Ezra was quiet for a moment. I could hear something on the other end of the line as if he’d muffled the speaker. My shoulders hunched and I braced my elbows on my knees.

I was not getting a good feeling.

“How would you feel about all of us crashing there for Christmas?”

I sat up straight. “God, why?”

He laughed. “Well, you’re the first one to buy a house. You win.”

“No. That’s not how this works. Besides, weren’t you the first one to bust my balls about my ‘money pit’, as you called it?”

“Well, it is.”

I glanced over at the old house. The porch had seen better days, but the inside wasn’t too bad. Just dated. It probably hadn’t been updated since the seventies. And while I enjoyed the music, I did not love the decor.

“It’s a work in progress.”

“Well, can it be ready for the week of Christmas?”

“Since when do we do Christmas?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Ez was being far too friendly. He had a soft spot for me, but my eldest brother was usually moving at warp speed, and niceties weren’t his forte. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Well, not exactly.”

“Ezra David Burns.”

“Jeez.”

I could see his shoulders hunching in my head. My brother was a famous photo journalist, but I was one of the few people who could crack the whip on him. Not that he’d admit it.

“Look, it’s not a big deal. Don’t freak out.”

“Freak out?” I put my mug down, jumped off the picnic table, and stalked down to the rocky shore off th

e lake. “Why would I freak out?”

“I said don’t freak. I can hear you stomping from here, you know.”

“Then just tell me. Is it Dad?” The mere idea of my larger than life father being sick had me bending at the waist to drag in a breath.

“No, it’s not Dad.”

Relief left me with black dots in my vision.

“Breathe, Ging.”