“No. It’s in your blood.”
“I doubted that for a long time.”
“Honestly? Me too.”
I close the visor. “What? That I have work in my blood?”
“That you have Mason blood at all, if you really want to know.”
My jaw drops. Wade looks at me and snickers.
And Oliver’s back in my top three favorite brothers.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I look down at the screen.
Danny: I’m free today. Are you available?
Me: Yes, if it’s after four.
Danny: Say around six?
Me: Perfect. Want to swing by my house? I think it’ll be more comfortable, and I need my partner to weigh in on it too.
I grin, imagining what Jaxi’s response to my idea will be. I hope she loves it.
Danny: You got it. Address?
Me: 7639 E. Scott St
Danny: Not far from where I’ll be. Perfect. See you then.
“I’m losing you to the marital side of life too, aren’t I?” he asks.
“Not yet.”
He rests his wrist on top of his steering wheel. “Is that what you’re thinking, though?”
Am I?
When I think of my future, I think immediately of Jaxi and Rosie. I can’t imagine starting my own side business or having a meal or going to bed without Jaxi. The idea of Rosie waking up at night unable to find me, going to school and having someone be mean to her, or looking up in the stands of a game and not seeing me makes me want to lose it.
But marriage? Am I a marriage guy?
Maybe I am.
When I consider Libby and Ted, I think hell to the fucking no. Why put your life up for potential devastation when you’re capable of doing just fine on your own? But if I look at my parents’ marriage and see decades of faithfulness and friendship and a love that got them through good times and bad—and raising five unruly boys—then, maybe yes.
If I can’t imagine Jaxi and Rosie not in my life, isn’t marriage the logical, down-the-road step?
“What do you think about marriage, Wade?”
He makes a face as though he’s considering the question.
“To be honest with you, I don’t really see the point,” he says. “It’s a piece of paper. How is that supposed to bind you with another person?”
I shrug. “I think it’s a religious thing to a lot of people. Otherwise, it’s a sign of commitment.”
“And so is a dog.”
I laugh. “I can tell you’ve been hanging out with Rosie.”
He rolls his eyes. “I mean, marriage has a few practical benefits. It affords you access to health insurance if one person is working, wealth follows paper trails, it makes things like custody of children easier. There are reasons to get married for some people.”
“But not you?”
“No. I don’t have a lot of faith in other people’s word. You’re putting your entire life halfway in someone else’s basket. They might love you now. They might be the best person you’ve ever known. But if they get pissed or decide they want out, you’re fucked, and there’s nothing you can do about it because of a little piece of paper.”
When he puts it like that, I see his point.
We drive along quietly. Wade stares straight ahead and offers no commentary. He’s really a man on an island, and I wonder why he likes it there so much.
Or if he does.
I don’t really know.
“What game plan are we walking into Greyshell with?” I ask.
“Logic.”
I wait for him to expound, but he doesn’t.
“You’re a wordsmith today,” I mutter.
“You’re the one who came up with this plan. Why do I have to explain it to you?”
I twist in my seat. “So, we are going in there with my game plan? Explain the right-of-way? Make them an offer?”
He nods like I’m just catching on—mostly because I am.
“Shit,” I say, looking at the road again. “I figured you guys changed it up some.”
“Why nitpick an idea to death when it’s solid to start with?”
A bubble of pride swells in my chest. It’s dumb to be proud that your older brother thinks you did a good job when you’re in your mid-twenties, but it’s Wade. He doesn’t toss compliments around for fun.
“I think we need to charm them,” I say, energized by this recent development. “They’ve pissed off all their neighbors. They might respond to someone being nice to them.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“So that means that I need to take the lead on this.”
Wade scoffs.
“What?” I ask. “Can you be charming? Is that a talent you possess that I, nor anyone you’ve ever met, never knew about?”
“Do you live to annoy me?”
“Pretty sure that’s the exact reason Mom had me.”
“May-fucking-be.” He sighs. “You know what? You feel them out. See if your plan works. If it does, we’ll roll with it. If not, we’ll dazzle them with numbers.”
I cringe. “Numbers are never dazzling unless they’re measurements.”
I can tell he wants to get pissed. But, to my surprise, he doesn’t.