Switch (Landry Family 3)

“You’re a beautiful bride,” I tell Dani. “Congratulations again.”

She grins at me. “Thank you.”

Lincoln whisks her away in some spinning dip move that makes everyone laugh and move out of the way. Graham’s chest rumbles as he, too, can’t deny his amusement.

“You know,” he says, “I’ve always thought Lincoln to be the most immature out of us all.”

“You might be right.”

“I hate to admit it, but I think I might be wrong.”

When I pull away and look up at his face, he’s still watching his brother. His brows are pulled tight.

“Lincoln is really no different than me,” Graham notes.

“I beg to differ. He’s silly. Goofy. You’re Mr. Control Freak. Serious.”

“True.” Graham looks down at me again and spins me in a circle. “But look at him.” He uses his chin to motion towards the groom. “He’s the happiest guy here. He’s the one out of all of us that risked everything in his life to get the one thing he wanted.”

I think about that. I’ve heard Lincoln’s story and how he had to pick between the sport he loved and the girl he loved more. It’s a classic fairytale, a romance for the ages.

“Did he need a boost of confidence? Sure,” Graham says. “But he pulled the trigger. He made a very mature decision.”

“So what are you saying?” I ask.

“I’m saying that ridiculous brother of mine was capable, when the time came, to figure out what he wanted in life. He did it faster than any of the rest of us, no matter what public office we were in, what job title we had, or medals were around our neck.” He chuckles. “I can’t believe I’m giving kudos to Lincoln for something serious.”

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him lightly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

“Won’t tell what?” Camilla and her father dance their way to us. “I love gossip.”

“They don’t call you Swink for nothing,” Graham says, shaking his head.

“Mind your own business, Camilla.” Mr. Landry tosses me a wink. “May I cut in?”

Graham’s grip cinches down on me.

“I’m your father, Graham,” Mr. Landry laughs. “Here. Dance with your sister.”

Camilla takes her brother’s hand, against his silent objection, and guides him away from their father and I. Mr. Landry takes my hand in his and gently places his other respectfully on my hip.

His forehead is lined in a way that showcases years of worry, hard work, and late nights. But it’s the lines around his eyes and mouth that paint a different picture. They tell the story of love and laughter, of ballgames and Monopoly. They speak of tea parties and car washes and early morning breakfasts.

“I want you to know,” he says in a voice an octave lower than Graham’s, “that I never get involved in my children’s private lives.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. I just let him move me along to the music.

“Graham has always been a peculiar child. When he was born, he didn’t cry. The nurses had to tickle his feet to force him to cry to dry his lungs.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” He smiles down at me. “He’s always been an old soul, one of those kids that seems to be wise beyond their years. He didn’t want to play ball with Lincoln or go chasing girls with Barrett. He wanted to go to the office with me. I remember one Christmas, he asked for a calculator,” he chuckles.

“In the last few weeks, I’ve seen such a change in him,” Mr. Landry continues. “I always wondered what would happen if he really fell in love. Would he pull away from the business? Would he channel some of the passion that drives him into something else? I see that some with Barrett. Now that he has Alison and Huxley, I don’t expect him to be in politics very long. Same for Lincoln. I think we can all see the changes Danielle has made in him.”

“Certainly,” I agree.

“My curiosity has been satiated when it comes to Graham. I now know what happens to Graham when he falls in love.”