Every Saturday Night (Firsts and Forever 6)

“Take a breath, Logan.” Lark dried his hands on a dish towel and turned to me. “I’m sure everything’s going to be fine.”

“I hope you’re right.” I attached the clean tray to the high chair and said, “I need to calm down. I’ve been overthinking this for a week, and it seems to be reaching its peak.”

My brother grinned at me. “You’ve always been an overthinker, even when you were little. I remember when I’d try to get you to be my partner in crime, but you’d always say, what if we get caught, or what if this, or what if that?”

I grinned, too. “You were always so much braver than me. Also, your proposed crime sprees were usually candy-related, do you remember that? You were fixated on that big bowl of candy at the reception desk in our church office, and you always wanted me to cause a distraction so you could stuff your pockets. But I was too afraid of getting in trouble.”

“I’d forgotten about that, but it figures. I’m still candy-obsessed.” As we left the kitchen, he said, “Just so you have one less thing to worry about, I’ll drive you tonight. Parking sucks everywhere in this city, and good luck getting a Lyft on a Saturday night. Then just text me when you’re ready to come home, and I’ll pick you up.”

“Thanks, that’d be great.”

Lark glanced at me and asked, “So, what are you going to wear on your date?”

“This.” I was wearing my usual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt under a baggy flannel shirt.

“Dude, no! There’s mashed up banana on literally everything you’re wearing.”

“Okay, so I’ll put on clean clothes, but they’ll look exactly like this. That’s all I have.”

“Let’s go look in my closet,” he said. “I’m sure I have something more date-appropriate.”

“I don’t want to get dressed up. This is just supposed to be casual, and I guarantee Lucky will be wearing a T-shirt and jeans.”

“You can, too. But maybe we can find you a T-shirt that actually fits, instead of these XXL shirts you hide in.” That didn’t sound like the worst idea.

To get to the second floor, we had to pass through a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs, then another one at the top, which we affectionately referred to as our own, personal Panama Canal. Right after Owen and I moved in, Dylan had done an incredible job babyproofing the house. Then he refused to let me reimburse him for any of it by calling it a baby shower gift.

We found him sitting on the floor in my room, reading to Owen from a big picture book. The baby was watching him with wide eyes while chewing on his terry cloth bunny. He was dressed in a new, yellow T-shirt that said, “I love my guncles” in rainbow letters, along with rainbow-striped jogging pants.

I said, “That’s an adorable outfit.” When the baby looked at me, I smiled at him and told him, “Your guncles are awfully good at spoiling you.” Owen flashed me a big, drooly smile before going back to trying to chew the bunny’s ear off.

“That’s our job,” Dylan said. He was wearing a new, yellow T-shirt too, which said “Favorite Guncle” in rainbow letters.

Lark exclaimed, “I need to change! I didn’t know we were starting Gunclepalooza already!”

Then he dashed to their bedroom, and I told Dylan, “Lark’s trying to help me with an outfit for my date. Are you okay watching the baby for a few more minutes?”

“Of course. Take your time.”

By the time I joined Lark in his room just a few seconds later, he’d already swapped his unicorn T-shirt for one that looked exactly like Dylan’s, aside from being about five sizes smaller. He turned to his overstuffed closet and said, “Now let’s see what I have that might fit you.” He grabbed a bright blue T-shirt off the top shelf and pressed it to the front of me before saying, “Oops, that one’s cropped. It would actually look adorable on you, but I’m sure you’ll tell me you want something less obvious.”

“Yes, please.”

He ended up finding me a red T-shirt and a red and blue plaid flannel overshirt, which were both a lot more fitted than what I usually wore. When I asked him why he owned a plaid shirt, which wasn’t even sort of his style, he explained, “I used to dress up in sexy outfits when I worked as a cam boy. I found that at a thrift shop, and my plan was to cut off the sleeves, crop it to just below my nipples, and tie it in front, like a sexy construction worker with a big tool. But I guess I forgot about it.” Of course that was the answer.

He did a little more digging in his closet before saying, “Sorry, looks like I can’t help with a pair of jeans. Who knew my baby brother would end up so much taller than me?” I was only five-eleven to his five-nine, but he was right that his jeans would be too short.

I held up the shirts and told him, “These are great, thank you.”

“You’ll look cute in them, and you’re going to have a great time tonight. I just know it.”

“I hope so. Really though, all I want is to get through the night without throwing up, for a change.”

He grinned at me and said, “It’s good to have goals.”