Chapter 11

LYNN

"They showed up again?" Miller licks the melted marshmallow off his finger and goes in for another bite of his s'more.

"Yup," I reply, turning my stick to get just the right shade of brown on all sides of my mallow as I hold it over the campfire.

"Why isn't Lynn's burned like ours?" Bear asks from his seat on a stump next to Miller.

"Because Lynn is patient," his sister, Maisy, explains while she shakes her head at my brother. "And Miller is… not." Understatement of the century.

Completely unbothered, Miller smiles wide, mouth full of gooey chocolate and sugar, making Bear laugh. What can I say? The kid is ten; he's easy to impress.

"Here, Bear, you can have this one." I hand over my stick with its perfectly toasted marshmallow on the end as I watch Bear's eyes widen in the firelight. It's a small sacrifice to make for being invited on this Bigfoot-hunting trip.

And by that, I mean the mandatory camping down the way from our house that Bear insists on every time he visits. I'm convinced the Bigfoot hunting is just an excuse to eat s'mores and stay up past his bedtime. Still, I've missed these goobers while I've been away at school this past year. Not much changes around here, but it's good to be home.

Miller swallows and gets back to the original topic. "Why can't these people take no for an answer?" He's referring to the various developers who knock on Mama's door every so often, trying to get her to sell her property. The house itself is nothing to write home about, but the land is part of a big three-lot collection up in the mountains to the east of Asheville. Our lot backs up to the state land that holds the Blue Ridge Parkway.

"I don't get it," Maisy says. "There's no view from the properties. Isn't that what developers want?"

She's right. The only thing to see from Mama's house is trees, and the drive can be treacherous when it snows or storms. "These people have bucket loads of money to throw around, so they'll buy anything," I speculate.

"Well, I hope you told them we're never selling," Miller says, holding a graham cracker for Bear while he constructs his new s'more.

"Do I look like a moron to you?" I frown at my brother. Of course I told the woman to get lost when she came driving up in her fancy-ass Lexus and knocking on our door. Mama would never sell her and Dad's house, and neither would our neighbors Wes and Adrina to the right or old Winston to the left. Everybody is here to stay. Let the developers buy someone else's land to build a gazillion-dollar house on.

"Don't ask if you don't want an honest answer," Miller replies with a smirk, earning himself a raw marshmallow to the head.

"Food fight!" Bear yells, dropping the perfectly toasted marshmallow onto Miller's lap and diving for the chocolate bars. "Imma smoke y'all's butts!" He beans Maisy in the boob with an open chocolate bar.

She looks down at the fresh brown stripe on her white T-shirt and chases after Bear as he runs for cover behind a tent. "Oh, it's on, little brother!"

"I see nothing has changed since last summer," I say, grinning at Miller.

"Nah. Maisy misses Bear when he's at his dad's, but we're all doing good." He wipes his sticky hands on his jeans and rests his elbows on his knees. Maisy used to spend a lot of time protecting her brother from their mom's neglect until Bear's dad came to the rescue last year. "Mama's happy you're home. Adrina's driving her crazy with wedding plans. You might prevent a homicide while you're here."

This is unsurprising news. Our brother Denny is marrying Adrina and Wes's daughter, Rosie, later this summer, and you'd think they're the first two people in the history of the world ever to get married with the way Adrina is flipping out over every detail.

"They should seriously just elope," I offer, spearing a new marshmallow with Maisy's abandoned stick.

Rosie's dad, Wes, would probably second that idea. He was out of work for a good while after being laid off a couple years ago. And, while he's working now, I have to imagine their savings took quite the hit. Hell, Rosie was even sending them money from her side hustle while she was in college. No way does he want to drop money they don't have on a big wedding.

"It would end up being the shortest marriage on record if they did, considering that Adrina would kill both of them the minute they stepped off the plane."

I snort at that. Adrina is a true Italian mom, and she takes her job very seriously, meaning that she requires every one of us to take her seriously. And if Adrina wants white doves and ruffled tuxedo shirts, that's what she's getting. Luckily, Rosie is used to her mom, so she's not letting herself get bent out of shape about it. At the end of the day, she just wants to marry my brother and doesn't care all that much about the manner in which that comes about.

Maisy steps back into the firelight and collapses onto her camp chair. "That little fart varmint just outwitted me. I threw two bars of chocolate at him, and now he's hiding somewhere, chowing down."

"Smart kid," I say, turning my stick. "I hope he can sleep after all that sugar because he's my tentmate, and I need to hit the hay soon. I've got to be down at the ballpark early."

"Is it an early game tomorrow?" Maisy asks, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.

"Lynn's graduated from concession work, didn't you hear?" Miller grins over at me. I love that big dummy.

When Maisy turns back to me, I explain, "I get to shadow the athletics and rehab team this summer. It doesn't pay, but I saved up during the school year with my side job—and Cash and Cart are giving me some hours this summer." I make the sign of the cross, and Maisy laughs. She's been witness to a few of my brothers' shenanigans, so she knows the risk I'm taking working for them. "It's my first day, so I don't want to be wiped out before it starts."

I'm ridiculously excited, so the truth is, I probably won't sleep a wink.

Working for Ennis last summer was unbearable, but it was worth it—even if he had me cleaning grease traps and fryer tanks to make up for what he called my "insubordination." Honestly, if his big-wig uncle thinks so highly of him, why does he have his nephew overseeing a handful of hot dog stands in ninety-degree heat all summer?

But my fortitude paid off, and I did what I set out to do by finagling conversations with therapy team members and some other athletics staff throughout the summer. They even gave me a tour of the facilities and some advice on applying for internships and such.

And while I'm still not eligible for a real clinical internship until I enter the PhD phase of my program, I somehow managed to score this shadowing opportunity this summer. I won't get to do anything hands-on, but I can still learn a ton just from watching. My department head was thrilled for me, and she's waiting for all my feedback once I get back to school in the fall. I'm determined to be a complete sponge. Just call me Bob.

"Congrats. That sounds awesome," Maisy says.

"Thanks. I hope I get to see an Achilles rupture or an ACL tear this summer." Not that I wish any of the players ill or anything, but I need to see some gore, people.

"That"s... disgusting."

I grin at her with a raise of my eyebrows. "I know, right?" My marshmallow masterpiece is finished, so I pull it from the stick and pop the entire thing into my mouth. Yum.

"Hey, Bear! I'm going to bed!" I shout into the darkness as I stand and head to the tents. "If you want to hear stories about college girls, you'd better come with!" That kid may be ten, but he sees himself as quite the Casanova and collects girlfriends like his friends probably collect Pokémon cards. Rosie was the love of his life last summer, so it'll be interesting to see how he takes the whole wedding thing.

As I knew he would, Bear appears at the entrance to our tent a nanosecond later, his face smeared with chocolate and his expression eager. "Are any of them volleyball players? I have a new appreciation for volleyball after seeing it on TV."

I can hear Miller choke out a laugh.

"Every single one," I lie, dropping a hand to Bear's scrawny shoulder and guiding him into our tent.