Page 7 of So This Isn't Love
The question lands harder than it should. Dad's funeral, actually, but none of us wants to say it. I study my younger brother's face, trying to reconcile this successful marketing director with the teenager I left behind. "Too long," I admit quietly.
"Well, you're here now." Colton's tone is light, but his expression says he gets it. "Just in time to help with pain med duty."
"While you’re up, Finn. Need you to grab my pills, actually." Evan gestures vaguely toward the kitchen. "Think I'm due for another dose of the good stuff. Bottle's on the counter."
I head to the kitchen, finding several prescription bottles lined up near the coffee maker. The labels blur together in the dim morning light, letters dancing in that familiar, frustrating way. I squint, trying to make sense of the dosage instructions without being obvious about it.
"The one on the left," Colton says quietly from behind me. When I turn, his expression is carefully neutral. "Big white horse pills inside."
I grab the bottle he indicated, grateful he didn't make a thing of it. Some things, at least, haven't changed. Colton's still covering for me, just like he did when we were kids.
Back in the family room, Mom's hovering over Evan like he's twelve again with chicken pox, tucking another pillow behind his back while he tries to type one-handed. The morning lightcatches the silver in her hair. When did that happen? "The doctor said you need rest, not conference calls."
"The spring rosé release party is coming up." Evan's words are slightly slurred. "The marketing campaign?—"
"Will survive without you for a few days." Colton takes the laptop, ignoring Evan's protests. "The only thing you need to worry about is healing."
Mom gasps suddenly, pressing one manicured hand to her throat. "Oh no. The auction! You can't possibly participate now. I need to call Clara right away..."
"Wait, what auction?" I ask, settling back into my chair.
"The library's annual bachelor auction," Evan explains, his pain-med grin going slightly crooked. "Local guys volunteer to be auctioned off for a weekend of ‘Honey Do’ service projects. Home repairs, yard work, that kind of thing."
"Mattichogue has a bachelor auction?" I can't help grinning. "And you actually signed up for this? What happened to 'I'm too cool for small town events'?"
"Hey, some of us didn't run away to become adrenaline junkies." Evan tries for dignity, but the effect is ruined by his loopy smile. "Some of us take our community responsibilities seriously."
"It's for charity!" Mom wrings her hands, pacing in front of the fireplace where our childhood photos still line the mantel. "Such a wonderful cause. Clara Gable's been running it for years, and now we have to withdraw one of our headline bachelors at the last minute."
Clara Gable. The town librarian. Darcy’s mom. I push the thought away. My curiosity—not to mention my guilt—over Dictionary Darcy can get back in line with everything else I'm not thinking about this week.
"I can still do the auction," Evan says. "Just because I’m on crutches doesn’t mean I can’t compete."
"Don’t be silly, Evan. If you participate you need to be able to perform your duties afterward."
"You’re assuming he was capable before the accident," I say, not even trying to hide my amusement. "But I would love to see you up there on stage. Please tell me they parade you around first. Maybe make you flex a little before the bidding starts?"
"They do have a small runway," Evan admits, slumping further into his pillows.
I lose it. The laughter bubbles up despite Mom's disapproving look. "A runway? Like a fashion show? This just keeps getting better. Is there a Speedo portion of the program?"
"At least I've still got a hard body to show off," Evan mumbles. "Unlike some people who peaked in high school."
"Boys." Mom's tone carries a decade of weary patience. "This is serious. The library building fund is counting on this event. What will people think if Evan withdraws a day before the auction?"
"That Evan fell out of a loft?" I suggest. "Seems pretty straightforward. I’d still pay to see him up on that stage."
Mom gives him one of her looks. "You’re can’t participate. End of discusssion."
"You know," Colton says slowly, and his tone alone makes me sit up straighter. "There is a solution..."
I feel the hairs at the back of my neck rise. I don't know what he’s got in mind but I already don’t like where this is going. "No."
"One Bardot bachelor is as good as another. Especially the celebrity of the family..."
Ah, fuck. "Absolutely not."
Mom's eyes light up like Christmas came early. "Oh! Finn, you could?—"
