by Kate Benson
“So, why’d your parents name you Alex?” he asks, pulling my eyes from the peacefulness of the traffic we’ve since found ourselves in. “Did they want a boy and were so completely devastated with you that they stuck with the original name, hoping you’d end up cooler than you did?”
My eyes deadpan and move toward his, taking his belly-bred laugh of triumph in stride.
“Is that the best insult you’ve got?” I ask, one eyebrow raising with a total lack of enthusiasm. “Because I’ve got to tell you, it was a bit of a stretch.”
“Bullshit,” he argues lazily as he leans back into the seat. I glance over at him, surprised when I find his lips turned up in amusement. “That was a solid burn.”
“Even if it wasn’t completely obvious that you’ve been sitting over there for a half hour like a complete loser trying to pull that out of your ass, it took you entirely too long to get to the actual burn,” I disagree, moving my eyes back toward the windshield. “A good insult should be quick and cutting, no need for excess or further explanation,” I correct him as I move my gaze back toward him. “Something like, ‘that shirt makes you look like an out of work lumberjack on vacation at an abandoned KOA campsite,’” I reply quickly, smirking inwardly as his eyes immediately move to the offensively ugly plaid shirt he’s wearing and his mouth begins to gape. “And Alex isn’t my full name. That’s just what people call me.”
“That’s not all they call you.”
“See? You’re getting there,” I offer, my sarcastic support only irritating him further. “Give it another fifteen minutes and I bet you’ll come up with something, sweetheart.”
He mumbles something under his breath that is too low for me to hear and I’m not interested enough in to ask about before following it with another forty minutes of blessed quiet. What feels like a lifetime later, I begin seeing signs indicating our exit is approaching and I can almost feel my chest begin to ease with a small semblance of relief.
My phone begins to blare from its place on my lap and I glance down to see Evie’s name scrolling across the screen and smile. The friendship I’ve been able to grow with her and Amy has been my saving grace over the last eighteen months. It’s no wonder one of them would step up to be my saving grace for this awkward little road trip, as well.
“Is that my sister?” he asks as I move to answer.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, good. Lemme see your phone real quick,” he insists, wiping his hand on his jeans. “I need to ask her something.”
“Uh… no,” I shake my head. “You’re definitely not touching my phone with your disgusting spit hands.”
“I wiped ‘em off!” he argues, releasing a low sigh. “Just put it on speaker then.”
“No,” I shake my head. “If she wanted to talk to you, she’d have called you.”
“Give me the phone!” he rails.
“Eat a dick,” I smile broadly, pressing the screen and quickly moving it toward my ear.
“Al-”
“Shut up. I’m on the phone,” I cut him off, laughing as he silently fumes beside me. “Hey,” I smile into the line, the not-so-faint sound of her hectic life streaming through before her voice ever does.
“Hey girl,” she replies, her own smile obvious in her voice, regardless of the exhaustion I can hear there, too. “How far away are you?”
“Only about three miles from our exit,” I reply, settling easier in my seat. “We just passed the sign for the medical center a minute ago.”
“Oh, okay. Cool!” she starts as I hear a slight shuffle on her end before her voice switches just so. “Hang on,” she says quickly. “No, ma’am, Aspen! Mommy said no-no,” she scolds lovingly. “Pretty girls don’t put things in their mouths.”
“Not if we don’t have to,” I smirk, pulling a low giggle from her.
“Amen to that,” she replies, her voice calmer as she returns her attention to the conversation. “Is Dash still in front of you?”
“Yes, a couple cars up now, but I can see him.”
“Is he on the phone with Mason?” she asks, seemingly confused.
“No,” I reply, reluctantly glancing over to my left. “Mason’s not on his phone.”
“Ugh!” she groans. “I knew he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“What?”
“I called him right before I called you, but he didn’t answer, which means he can’t hear his phone, which means he’s driving that foot wagon with the windows rolled down and I specifically told him not to do that with all the wedding shit in the front seat,” she spews out in one big huff. “Now all the stupid humidity is getting all over everything! I bet half the shit’s in the bed of the truck, isn’t it?”
“No,” I promise immediately, hopefully saving him at least a couple of hours of nagging. Evie’s great, one of the best friends I’ve ever had, but to say she’s been riding an edge with this wedding would be the understatement of the century. “No, he specifically said he couldn’t use the back of the truck because you asked him not to.”
“Okay,” she says, still not completely convinced, but somewhat more relaxed. “Alright, I’m going to try calling him again. You two be safe,” she says before taking a brief pause. “Everything good on your end?”
I glance over to my cantankerous companion of the last two hours and swallow at least fifteen percent of the truth and settle on the facts before I answer his sister.
“Sure,” I manage, my tone not even completely convincing me, and I can’t help but smirk when I hear her giggling once more. “It’s been a real blast.”
“You’re a trooper,” she says. “I know you two don’t exactly get along and it’s had to be awkward at the very least.”
“Umm…” I start, trying desperately to come up with anything I can that won’t have me lying to my friend or insulting her brother.
Thankfully, she makes me do neither and instead, offers a light laugh of understanding.
“Just hang in there a few more minutes. I’ve got a bottle of reinforcements chilling in the fridge and it’ll be ready for you when you get here.”
“You’re the best,” I smile, shaking my head in disgust as I glance over again to find him inspecting what I can only hope is sunflower seed shrapnel from his teeth. “I’m going to need it.”
chapter eight
mason
“How was your trip?” Dash asks as I pull into the parking space beside him.
“I’m gonna kick your ass,” I promise, pulling a deep chuckle from his chest.
“That good, huh?” he asks, ignoring my annoyance and giving me a firm pat on my shoulder. “Don’t be like that, sugar,” he winks, smile still stuck in place. “By the way, you’ve got something in your teeth, bro.”
“Kiss my ass,” I growl low, taking the bin he’s handing me from the front seat and following him around the bed of the truck.
“I’ve got a free hand, Dash,” Alex interrupts us, giving him a friendly smile. “What can I help take upstairs?”
Kiss ass.
“There’s plenty in there. Why don’t you just grab some-?”
“We can get it,” Dash cuts me off. “Don’t worry about it. You did plenty helping get it all over here.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he says, glaring down at me before he glances back over at Alex. “Evie’s upstairs. You can go on up if you want.”
She makes her way up and before I can start spewing what I know are childish complaints, Dash turns to face me.
“Dude, you gotta chill.”
“You haven’t had to spend the entire morning listening to that woman bitch and complain about everything under the sun in a cramped ass car.”
“Give me ten minutes to get all this shit sorted out and I’ll be sure to introduce you to your sister,” he counters with a mocking look. “You literally just described the last three years of my life, Mason. You just left out screaming children.”
“You did that to yourself!”
I whisper harshly, his love for Evie making it easy to not be offended in the least at the dig. “And you’re only defending her because you don’t see the asshole I rode up here with. You’re only seeing the manipulative little liar who wants to carry boxes and shit.”
“Bro-”
“Don’t Bro me,” I insist. “That chick is a fuckin’ mean girl, Dash. She thinks just because she’s hot, she can-”
“Oh,” he cuts me off. “So that’s what this is about, huh? You’re still pissed she turned you down and you’ve decided to pick the week of our wedding to focus all your energy into being re-pissed off about it?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked in annoyed amusement. I begin to shake my head, but he doesn’t listen. “Look, I know you don’t like her, but you’re just gonna have to get the hell over it for the next seven days,” he insists. “She’s one of Evie’s best friends and like it or not, she’s fucking here, man. Besides, the shit happened like a year and a half ago, Mason. Get the hell over it.”
I gasp, my hand moving to my chest dramatically in offense.
“Oh, don’t gasp, Martha,” he rolls his eyes. “If you can’t be an adult for your own well-being, you’re going to have to find a way to do it for me. Your sister is stressed the fuck out right now and has been on my ass since she woke up this morning. The last thing I need is for you to add more stress to my day.”
“Oh, so now you want a favor?” I ask, my lips quirking up slightly on either side. “After all these years of your bitching and complaining about the two or three favors I asked of you, the tables have finally turned, have they?”
“Mason, I’ve been doing you favors since we were twelve years old,” he starts, eager to lay into me, but I cut him off.
“Yeah, and you’ve been bitching about it the whole time.”
“You’re right, because with the exception of the blonde, mouthy one sitting up there waiting on your longtime taking ass to help me carry these boxes upstairs, most of the favors you ask me to do are fuckin’ asinine.”
He takes a half-step forward and that’s when I see it, his tell.
We’ve had this thing, ever since day one when we were both twelve-year-old, pimply faced batches of hormones. Without our dad’s around to check our shit, we’ve always relied on each other to keep in check. When one of us starts to act crazy, the other instinctually gets as harsh as possible. It’s mean, but damn if it isn’t effective. My tell is the neck vein, Dash’s is the half step. It’s always been there, never changed and for better or worse, it’s always been exactly the slap in the face we need.
And he just took the half-step.
Immediately, I brace myself for the tough love I know is coming.
“I don’t ever tell you how to live your life, bro. You want to act like a five-year-old on your own time, that’s fine by me, just don’t stress Evie out. She’s off the fuckin’ chain this week as it is. Even if she wasn’t, it doesn’t matter right now. That has no bearing at all on this stupid shit you’re down here complaining to me about. I swear to God, I ask you for one thing,” he rants, shaking his head before gesturing toward the stairwell Alex just escaped into. “Look, I don’t give a shit if you like her, I don’t care if you fuck her ten ways to Sunday, Mason, but do whatever the fuck you gotta do to get this shit out of your system so you can get over it. We have enough to deal with this week without adding your seventh-grade bullshit into the mix and I’m sick of hearing about it anyway.” I start to argue but he cuts me off once more. “And even if she wasn’t, act like your mama raised you right,” he continues, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have to tell you any of this shit, man. You’re grown. Grab another box and stop being a whiney little bitch for ten minutes so we can get out of the heat.” My nostrils flare once more. “And for the love of God, would you pick that shit out of your teeth? Seriously, what the fuck is going on with you today, Mase? Your mom’s only been gone a week. Pull yourself together.”
alex
“Oh, my God! Yay!” Evie squeals as the door swings open, her previously always flawless blonde locks thrown up on top of her head in the messiest bun I’ve ever seen. She shifts her eldest son, Dallas, so that he’s sitting more securely onto her hip with one arm while the other wraps around my neck, pulling me close. “I’m so happy you finally made it. Come in, come in!” she ushers me inside the apartment, pushing the door shut behind us. “Excuse the mess. We’re packing on top of everything else,” she explains, smiling graciously when I wave her off. “How was the drive?”
My inclination to answer her question comes second to the chubby, golden-locked baby grinning up at me from his place in her arms.
“There’s my boyfriend,” I croon, leaning in to shower his chubby cheek with a barrage of kisses before a melodic string of baby jibberish pulls my attention to the playpen just a few feet away. “And my bestest friend,” I continue, my cheeks instantly strained with how wide my smile spreads toward his twin sister, Aspen, as she echoes his giggles. I reach for her immediately, doting on them both before my attention returns to Evie, who watches us with a smile of her own. “And then there’s you,” I tease her with a wink before I follow her into the small apartment. “The ride was…” I return to her question as she grins from the edge of the counter. “Well, it lasted the full two hours, but we made it.”
“Yay,” she chuckles. “Well, that’s a good start.”
“Yes,” I agree. “And I know it’s only eleven, but I’m ready for that drink whenever you are.”
“Okay, come on,” she laughs, gesturing for me to follow her. I dote on the twins while she pours me a glass of zinfandel and smile when she makes her way back to me. “As promised.”
“Thanks,” I giggle, a small tremor of guilt washing over me as I trade two babies for booze and follow her to the couch. “Where’s the baby?”
“I just put him down for a nap,” she replies, smirking at my frown. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t sleep for long,” she snorts. “Trust me. He’ll be up again in about two hours.”
“I bet you’re exhausted.”
“Understatement of the year,” she admits, setting the twins up to play on their mat in front of her before she lowers to join them and faces me again. “Dash’s schedule has helped a lot, though. And he’s good about getting up at least once a night so I can get a little extra sleep, too.”
“He’s a good dad,” I muse, making her nod in agreement immediately. “You two make a great team.”
“Thanks,” she smiles softly. “He really is surprisingly good at this whole family man stuff,” she admits. “Who knew either one of us would figure any of this crap out?”
Her words joined with her amusing expression make me laugh and shake my head at her absurd joke. Although I met Dash and Evie after they’d already cemented their relationship and become pregnant with the twins she’s covering with affection as we speak, I’d heard the stories – many of them directly from the couple themselves. However, even with all the craziness that had come to pass long before I’d ever called them my friends, it’s hard to see them as anything other than meant for exactly this.
My eyes latch onto the way the sunlight falls on their soft, baby eyelashes gazing back at her in adoration and I can’t help but swallow hard with a tinge of envy. Challenging as she’s promised it is in more than one phone conversation, and regardless of the noticeable exhausting in her unkept features, there isn’t much, if anything, I wouldn’t trade for all of this in a minute.
To those who’d known me in my past life, a life like Evie’s doesn’t sound at all indicative of the future I’d been headed toward. As not just an only child but a spoiled latchkey kid to boot, I’d never had a huge family, instead just me and my parents who both worked much more than any of us would have liked. Some would say I raised myself each afternoon, setting the timer on the microwave to stay on top of my homework assignments and pulling out ready-made snacks my dad would stash in the fridge at dawn. We all thought I’d go off to college, get a law degree or something
similar, travel the world, marry later in life and only if I really felt like it. I’d never outwardly shown a maternal bone in my body, so to think my envy would be for all the things no one ever thought I’d care anything about was a shock, even for me.
Hell, especially for me.
But here I am. Sitting in a cramped apartment, coveting Dash and Evie’s simple little life of perfection.
“So, I was thinking,” Evie starts, her low but bubbly voice pulling me from my own wayward thoughts, and I glance over to find her eyes locked on mine. “While the baby is sleep-”
Her words are cut short by the sound of heavy feet on the steps just beyond the door followed by deep, masculine laughter before the door swings open.
“Dude, and then did you see the way he pulled that punch?” Dash asks, making Mason’s eyes go wide as they both come barreling inside, clumsily dropping two heavy bins onto the floor of the living room. “That shit was fuckin’ crazy, right?”
“I lost it!” Mason replies, swinging the door shut hard and prompting Evie to snap her fingers, her low hiss cutting their jubilant exchange short. “Hey sis! How-”
“Have you both lost your fucking minds?” she asks, her voice so low, it’s nearly silent, her hands covering the twins’ ears at the more profane parts of her question.
“What?”
“I spent at least eight hours every day of my waking existence trying to get someone to take a freaking nap. Why would you come in here like that?” she insists, gesturing to the two toddlers and the nearby baby monitor before she glances up to the men still towering in the doorway. “And why are you bringing all that in here right now?”