Twenty-Two. White Flag

TWENTY-TWO

White Flag

Maren

I'm dressed and ready for company before my brother shows up, Joe in tow, to surprise me. Thankfully, Rogers causes such a ruckus when Liam knocks on the door that it isn't obvious I was expecting him. I do give him shit for heading to Joe's first, though. After all, he's my brother.

That afternoon I take him by Fost's place and show him the renovations. He seems impressed by what I've managed, with the help of Shelby and Cameron, and even (begrudgingly) admits he would've had to hire a contractor for almost all the non-electrical work were he in my position. I deserve a medal for graciously swallowing my snarky response to that statement.

Then we head to the lodge, where Donna and Simon sing my praises, showing off the musky record board and highlighting all the late-season catches I'd facilitated on my recent guided tours. So many that I've started daydreaming about making it my full-time gig. Moving into the apartment myself maybe…

You know, being my own boat daddy.

It feels like progress, and for a short while, I start to imagine a little respect shining in his eyes. But it must be a trick of the light because just as quickly he makes some crack about "unemployment suiting me" and how he wishes he could just "shirk all his responsibilities and take a gap year." Around a dinner of takeout at the lodge that evening, he grills me on my plans. This is a good time to point out how not even my actual father has been this high-handed. Like ever.

It's exhausting.

I've managed to shift us from taking up space at the bar to a shorter table in the dining area. Joe's dividing his time between helping Donna pour cocktails at the bar and lounging on the raised hearth of the unlit stone fireplace beside us.

"Joe," my brother shouts across the lodge, gesturing with his beer (that I bought, mind you), "help me out, man. Tell her. She can't live at the resort forever. She should be looking for new jobs! They won't hold her old position indefinitely." I stifle my eye roll because they already filled it months ago, but let him rant. "She needs to stop acting like a teenager and get back to the real world."

While my brother's attention is on Joe, I raise a sly, humorous brow, crisscrossing my arms over my chest. Considering he's the reason I'm still here and not applying for new jobs, I'm eager to hear how he's gonna play this.

Joe doesn't disappoint. Ever, I imagine (while inwardly sighing like a lovesick preteen). "First of all," he reminds Liam, "I've been living at the resort forever, so it'd be pretty rich of me to say anything about that." My brother has the audacity to chortle. Chortle , I tell you. "And didn't her ex-boyfriend get the promotion over her? So he'd be her new boss?" Joe shakes his head and looks at me. "No thanks. I wouldn't go back, either. They don't deserve you. " My stomach does a little swoop. The good kind. He continues, turning his attention back to my brother. "And she's not living here for free, you know. She's brought in tons of business to the resort with her guided tours, and fixing up Fost's place is a smart investment. Properties up here go for a premium."

Joe contemplates a small beverage napkin in front of him, finally crumpling it in his fist before meeting my gaze. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to speak over you like that. You can speak for yourself." He spears Liam with his cool blue eyes before getting up to retrieve and clear away our plates. "It's time for me to grab the kids from my dad. Want to see them?" he asks us both, and I do, but I also feel like maybe this would be a good opportunity to give him and Liam some time. Not to mention, I could use the quiet to process the way Joe just defended me to my brother. To his best friend of thirty-plus years.

I didn't need it. He's right, I can speak for myself. But it still felt nice to have someone in my corner for once. Lorelai would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that. Shelby, too. Adolescent crush aside, she would give anything to see Liam getting put in his place. As it stands, I'm a heartbeat from spontaneous orgasm.

"I'll come," Liam says, not missing a beat, getting to his feet. "Mare?"

I shake my head and stretch my hands over my head with a big yawn. "Nah. I need to get back to Rogers. Take him for a long walk. Think I'll go to bed early before the whole family descends on us tomorrow."

I can feel Joe's eyes on me, but I don't meet his gaze out of fear I'll reveal too much in front of an audience. I can always text him before bed.

Turns out, he texts me first, right as I'm crawling into bed with a cup of hot tea and a spicy romance Lorelai insisted I read about a horned and horny demon and his fated Valkyrie mate.

I've learned not to mock it before I try it when it comes to monster porn.

Joe: Just checking in. Do I need to apologize?

I put down the book and tea, puzzled.

Maren: What on earth would you have to apologize for?

Joe: I'm not sure. You just seemed off when you left earlier. Did I come on too strong to Liam? He didn't say anything, but if I did…

Oh.

Maren: Oh jeez. No.

Maren: Honestly, that was really nice. Thank you for sticking up for me.

Maren: I was annoyed with my brother. For the things he said and for interrupting our shower. Perhaps my "off" was just "sexually frustrated."

Joe: …

Joe: I could fix that, you know.

A delicious tingle zips through me, curling my toes under the quilt, and I grin into my phone screen.

Maren: OH I KNOW

Joe: I never realized how your brother talks to you… I'm sorry. When you said he warned you off me, I thought you were exaggerating, because… well… you're the catch, Maren. YOU.

I fan my face, feeling suddenly too warm.

Maren: He means well. He wants the best for you. You're like a brother to him.

Joe: He's literally your brother, though. You're being generous.

Joe: Proving what I just said. You are the catch.

I slump back with a sigh. There he goes, being all cute and supportive and wonderful and… well, absolutely correct. Again.

Maren: It's complicated.

Joe: Yeah.

Maren: He's a good brother to me, too. He just doesn't realize I've grown up, and I guess I see his point.

Joe: I don't.

In my mind, I can clearly picture Joe's bland frown, furrowed brow, and darkened eyes, and I wrestle with the urge to stand up for Liam or defend his actions somehow. They've been close for so long, this feels wrong.

Maren: The last thing I want is to be a wedge in your decades-long friendship. I appreciate what you said more than I can express. It meant the world to have someone in my corner, whether I needed it or not. I really like you, if it's not already super obvious.

I bite my lip, gauging how much more I should say.

Maren: But you're going to have to trust that I can handle my brother and not get involved.

Joe: Eventually we're going to have to tell him about us and I'm not gonna put up with his talking to you like that.

My belly does the swoop thing again at his reference to an eventually . Eventually implies long term. Future. More. I really, really like the sound of more. Still, I hate the idea of getting between them.

Maren: We'll see.

Joe: Maren…

Maren: You're right. Eventually, if it comes to that, we'll address it. Together. For the time being, though, I'm hoping he'll start seeing me for the woman I have become and realize I'm capable of making solid choices, including who I sleep with and want in my life.

Joe: I suppose that's enough. For now.

Joe: For the record, I really like you, too.

Maren: I'm starting to get that.

Joe: The orgasms not proof enough?

Maren: Is there a limit?

Joe: Not with you, there's not.

Maren: Gah. There you go. Turning me on again and being all sweet.

Maren: Good night, Josiah.

Joe: Sleep tight, Jig.

I love my mom. I really do. She's whip smart, still rocks her curves at sixty-eight, and, relatedly, makes the best stuffing in the world. She's fantastic and I hope to be half as good a mom as she was to me when I was growing up.

That said, I wish she would leave already.

It's been ten hours, but she sized up the tension between me and Joe in minutes. MINUTES. Maybe seconds, honestly. After all, it only took her minutes to come up with an excuse to pull me aside in the kitchen and begin her interrogation.

"And just how long have you and Josiah Cole been together?"

I shriek, shushing her and watching the doorway for anyone who could have heard us. No one comes in, thank god, and I round on her, whisper-screaming in response.

"How on earth?"

She leans a single generous hip against the countertop and plants her hand on the opposite hip. "Maren Lorraine Laughlin, are you serious? I am your mother. I grew you and pushed you out of my body." She gestures between her legs, and I grimace. In her eyes, I'm a virgin until the end of time, but she has never held back on the gory details of any of our births. She's a complex woman, my mother.

"First of all, it's very new and very secret. And second, Liam will murder us both if he figures it out."

My mom rolls her eyes with breathless chuckle. "Please. That man wouldn't know a duck if it quacked in his face. He still thinks Rosie likes boys."

I press my lips together to hide my smile. My fourteen-year-old niece's sexuality is a nonissue. No one in our family ever has or ever will care either way, including her dad. But we're waiting for her to feel comfortable coming out to us. It's the worst-kept secret, second only, apparently, to me and Joe.

"Be that as it may," I tell her, patiently, "I'm not ready for anyone to know and we're being careful because of Joe's kids."

My mom doesn't respond for a long minute, but then she gives me a soft smile, tugging on my ponytail like she did when I was little. "Okay, baby. I won't say anything. But, just so you know, I've always thought the world of Josiah Cole and he couldn't do better than you."

"Really? You don't think I'm… I don't know, too immature?"

My mom's forehead creases in bewilderment. "Maren. You were born with a middle-aged soul. How else could Fost have handled you out on his boat morning, noon, and night? You're a nurturer. It's no surprise to me that you would find someone with a ready-made family in need of extra love."

In a split second, relieved tears surge to my eyes and my vision grows blurry around the edges. I reach for my mom, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and pulling her tight. "Thank you for saying that."

She strokes my hair the way she used to and chuckles softly in my ear. "Goodness gracious, you're squeezing the life outta me. Did you really think I'd feel otherwise?"

I don't respond, just squeeze her even tighter before letting go. I turn and pull some sangria out of the fridge, along with a tray of pre-sliced fruit, and twist the bottle top off with a crack. "I think I could use a glass of this. Want to join me?"

That was hours ago, and as much as I appreciate having my mom's support, I still need her to leave. She's too smart. Not only that, she and my dad decided to share my cabin, since I had the extra room, and let Liam and his family take their cabin after they decided to show up last-minute.

This is taking the vacation fantasy too literally. I'm thirty-three and being cockblocked by my parents in the room next to mine.

Joe: I'm sorry. Want me to call you? I was in the military. I'm not half bad at phone sex.

The mere thought of Joe's low voice in my ear while I imagined his hands… Through the wall, I hear the bed my parents are sharing creak. Nope.

Maren: I can't touch myself while sharing a wall with my parents. Gross!

Joe: How did you survive being a teenager?

Maren: That's different. They didn't know then.

Joe: Speaking as a parent, they absolutely knew.

Maren: UGH. That's not helping.

Joe: Okay, okay, I'll work on it. We'll figure something out. Besides, it's only four more days.

Maren: FOUR MORE DAYS

Joe: Maren. I went three years without before you turned up.

Maren: Fair point. But that was before you knew what it was going to be like…

Joe: Okay, okay. I'll figure something out.

I bite my lip, thinking he's being far too reasonable about this. I take out my hair tie and rumple my hair, lying back on my pillow before lifting my sleep tank in an artfully sexy way. I take a selfie, then hit send. There's a beat of radio silence and then the gray dots.

Joe: holy shit I think I just spontaneously combusted in my pants

Joe: I'LL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT TOMORROW

Joe: I hope you don't think I'm deleting that picture.

I belatedly stifle my gasp, then stare, frozen, at the wall, listening for signs that they've heard. Jesus. I wonder if there is another open cabin this week?

Maren: You have to delete it! What if your kids find it?!

Joe: I'm sorry, I can't think straight right now.

Maren: Joe!

Joe: Who needs food? Water? Sustenance? Not me. I have photographic evidence that the most perfect breasts exist.

I giggle, and then I type, You're ridiculous.

Joe: I'm lucky is what I am. Good night, Mare.

I groan.

Maren: Night, Joe.