“Okay,” Graham says, looking at Linc as he pilots the cart around a hole. “Let’s talk about the baby. Are you ready for a son or a daughter?”
“I wish I knew what it was going to be, but Dani wouldn’t find out. That just makes it worse.”
“It’ll be fun,” I say, bumping him with my shoulder before climbing out at the next hole. “What are you naming it?”
“If it’s a girl, she’s naming it. If it’s a boy, I get to name it.”
“She trusts you that much?” I joke.
“Yeah, she does.”
“What’s the short list?” Graham asks, trying to distract him.
Lincoln shrugs. “I just want to hold the thing in one arm and Dani in the other and be done with this shit. No more kids for us. I can’t do this again.”
“You realize you’re doing none of the work, right?” Graham laughs. “It’s her that’s going to be split in two—”
Lincoln drops his club, making Graham and I burst out laughing. “I hate you two.”
He gets his ball balanced on the tee after four tries. Instead of hitting it, he stands there fidgeting.
“You think he’s going to be okay?” Graham asks me quietly. “I’ve never really seen him like this.”
“He’ll be fine. He’s just not used to giving a shit about anyone or being serious about anything. I mean, he has you for the serious stuff.”
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t being funny,” I yawn.
Graham furrows his brows. “Not sleeping well?”
“You’re really going to ask me that?”
“It’s a fair question.”
“No, asshole, I’m not sleeping well thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me?”
“Yeah, you. Do you know how hard it is to want her so bad I can taste it, and, yet, I can’t have her.” I think for a half-second. “Yet. I can’t have her yet.”
He grins. “I like your optimism.”
“Yeah, well . . .” I look out over the course. “I like her.”
Graham adjusts in his seat and gets comfortable. “So, have you been working all night then? That’s what I do when I can’t sleep.”
“Some. I also did a couple of hundred push-ups, a couple of hundred sit-ups because I’m not a pussy.”
Graham’s hand clamps down on my shoulder and he gives it a little squeeze. “About the whole Ellie thing—I really am sorry for that.”
“You’re a fucking liar.”
“You’re right. I’m not sorry I went through with it. But you should know, if you haven’t considered it, that I do nothing without thinking it through—this included.”
I turn to face him. He’s a little shorter and a lot darker than I am. Still, it’s obvious we’re brothers. And when he smiles, the edges of my lips turn up too because I know he’s right. He did think this through. He wouldn’t have thrown me into this without being absolutely sure it was the right decision.
Lincoln breaks the moment with a string of profanities. He swings and misses the ball then proceeds to call it every name under the sun. It’s all we can do not to laugh.