Maddy smiles and tells me not to talk with my mouth full, like I’m twelve or something. As I swallow, a hand claps me on the back and I nearly choke.
Dammit, they’re here early.
I glare at Tim and Will, my nearest-aged brothers and twins. They’re both a couple of inches shorter than I am, but with the same black hair and blue eyes that we got from our dad. Heartbreakers are what the twins are often called. Or assholes.
They load up their plates and plop into kitchen chairs. Meanwhile, Maddy exits, waving at us.
“Sweethearts, make sure you eat healthy okay? All three of you. I don’t want my boys downing only bacon and pancakes. There’s yogurt and fruit in the fridge,” she calls, stepping outside. “I’ll be back later, after book club!”
And we nod, waving.
“Bye Ma,” I manage through another mouthful of pancake.
“Bye Mom,” chorus the twins as they squirt syrup everywhere. Not just on their pancakes, but on their toast, the berries, and even into their yogurt. Damn, that’s gross, but we’re all grown men. I’m not going to comment.
So instead, I turn to Will and Tim, one eyebrow raised.
“How’s it going?” I ask. It’s kind of a lame question, seeing that I work with them every day, but hey, sometimes you gotta spew niceties just to survive.
“It’s going,” Tim says with a shrug.
“Yeah,” Will agrees, “It’s goin’,” he repeats. “Money’s flowing like water, this shit is amazing.”
I nod. We started the business a couple years ago, and it’s a dream come true. You know how there are fourteen year old boys on your street selling shit on-line to the tune of a million dollars a month? Multiply that by seven, and that’s us. Seriously, cash is popping out of our ears right now.
But there are more important things too. Because any time off from our business is serious. That shit don’t work unless we’re on it.
“How much time are you taking off?” I ask casually.
“We’re not,” answers Tim. “Not really. We’ve got a good office manager and we can do a lot remotely. It’s no big deal.”
I grunt approvingly. Good, because I want to keep the money machine going.
“What’s up with you anyways, baby brother?” Will asks. “Still writing the great American novel?”
I’m supposed to be the creative dude at the office. My job is to sell our product, writing catchy text and designing compelling advertising campaigns. But I also want to do my own thing, therefore the questions about my book.
“Working on it,” I say. “It’s going.”
“Great,” the twins remark. “Look forward to reading it.”
Yeah, right. Those fuckers haven’t cracked a book in years, they were never good students. Which makes the company’s success even more crazy. But the thing is, we were never dumb guys. Sure, we didn’t get good grades, and Will was practically kicked out sophomore year for fighting, but it’s not like he got hit in the head or anything. We got smarts, just not book smarts.
I change the subject. That’s enough about work. The hours we put in are insane already, so another topic is welcome.
“Dating anyone?” I ask.
The twins don’t even pause.
“We had a widow for a while. What was her name again? Milly?” Will asks, looking to Tim to jog his memory.
“Lilly,” Tim snorts. “Fifty-two, body like a Kardashian.”
“The curvy Kardashian, not the skinny one,” Will interrupts.
“Giant bubble butt,” Tim continues, ignoring him. “So hot. In great shape for her age.”
Will leans in, voice low although Mom’s not around anymore. Although it’s not a big deal. I’m pretty sure Maddy’s totally aware that her boys are a bunch of horndogs, she’s not blind or stupid.