The Imperfections

Smiling faintly, I wrap my free arm around her and tug her close so I can kiss the crown of her head. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

“Of course,” she says. “I know you’re close to your family. I’ll have to feel comfortable around them again eventually.”

I kiss her again as we walk into the kitchen. There are sliding doors just beyond the island counter that lead out back, so we can see that’s where everyone is. My nephews are playing in the yard and my sister is flitting around between round, white tables with red and blue plastic covers on top. Guests are crowded around each table, talking and laughing and having a great time.

Theo catches my eye as he walks past with a big smile on his face and my other sister’s daughter hanging over his shoulder, shrieking at the top of her lungs to be put down despite the big grin on her face. I look over at Bri first to see her expression when she looks at him, but she’s busy with her guests.

I look at Alyssa next. Sure enough, her eyes are fixed out the clear pane of glass, locked right on him. Him, in his muscle shirt with the cut-off sleeves, showing off every bloated muscle he works so hard to maintain. The opening in the side of the shirt is cut down clear past his waist, so even his abs are visible. Asshole might as well be wearing no shirt out there in front of everyone, and as I glance around, I notice a couple of the female guests admiring the display.

I don’t especially care when it’s anybody else looking at him like that, but I sure as hell care when it’s Alyssa.

I drop my arm and turn away from her, moving toward the counter to set down our dishes.

My abruptness must startle her out of her distracted staring, because she turns around and follows me to the counter. “Need any help?”

“Nope,” I answer, more shortly than I mean to.

Scout lets out a little whine, pacing in front of the patio doors, peering outside longingly.

“Want me to take him out?” she asks, unsure what to do.

“Wait for me.”

She turns back around and leans against the counter, facing Scout and probably gawking at fucking Theo some more since I’m not watching now.

Feeling a little irritated over it, I tell her sharply, “Remember what I said about being alone with him.”

Her brow furrows slightly and she looks over at me. “Who?”

“Theo,” I bark, startling her.

Alyssa frowns up at me, then looks out the back door again. If she wanted to say anything in response, she doesn’t get to. “Your sister just spotted us,” she tells me, her tone subdued. “She’s on her way inside.”

Ah, Christ, I’m not ready for this. I toss a look back over my shoulder and see my wide-eyed sister reaching for the door handle and pulling it open to come inside.

“Hey, Bri,” Alyssa greets with more cheer than I expect given our most recent exchange.

“Alyssa,” Bri says, as if stunned to see her alive and well. Then she looks over at me and complains, “You never returned a single one of my calls, Brantley. I was worried sick.”

“Yeah, I was busy, sorry,” I offer ingenuously.

“So, everything’s all right between you two, then?” Bri asks tentatively.

Alyssa nods her head, looking over at me, silently questioning whether or not now’s the time to tell her.

I give her a little nod.

Alyssa holds up her left hand and flashes her ring. “We’re getting married!”

I don’t have to look at my sister to gauge her reaction. I can tell by the rapid rise in the tone of her voice. By the end of her “Oh my God!” only Scout should be able to hear her. “Engaged,” she adds, trying to bring it down a notch. “Wow. That’s a lot, isn’t it?”

Alyssa maintains her smile, but it dims ever so slightly as she correctly interprets more alarm than excitement from my very own sister.

No one’s giving her the goddamn “Congratulations!” she wants. Would that be so hard? We have to watch every last one of them make mistake after mistake; would it kill them to at least pretend to be excited for us?

Personally, I don’t give half a damn, but Alyssa clearly does, and now both of our families have neglected to tell her they’re happy for her, opting instead to second-guess her decision.

And she didn’t even get a say in this goddamn decision to begin with. Once she angrily blurted me out as the father, the rest of the path unfolded before us. Her family might not have known that, but mine certainly should.

Turning around, drying the hands I just washed on the hand towel hanging over the faucet, I meet my sister’s gaze. “Surely you didn’t think this was gonna go any other way. She’s pregnant. I’m the father. That’s that.”