Page 71 of Fall is Brewing

I roll my eyes, grabbing two more mugs and shove them into their chests. "You two are not guests and both have perfectly functional hands."

Willa laughs softly into her cider, and I swear the sound settles somewhere under my skin. I catch her eye over Jace's shoulder as she smiles over the rim of her mug.

"Hey,” I tease, “Don't get used to this.”

"I wasn't planning to."

The problem is… I’m not entirely sure I believe her.

CHAPTER 15

Willa

The first thing I notice is that the Calders interrupt each other constantly.

Not rudely as much as… naturally. Like it's a language they've spent their whole lives perfecting. One I've never had the chance to learn, growing up without siblings of my own. I find myself watching the brothers carefully. Their easy teasing, the unspoken understanding, even the way Brooks knows to pass the salt and pepper immediately to Evan and slide the hot sauce toward Jace who douses his potatoes liberally with it. Even though my parents and grandfather and I all know each other well, this is different. Maybe it’s because there’s no generational gap. Maybe it’s the fact that all three were raised in the same house, with the same parents. But the dynamic is both strange and quietly fascinating.

"...I'm telling you, raccoons are evolving," Jace says around a mouthful of potatoes.

"They're absolutely not evolving," Brooks replies with an eye roll, reaching across the table to steal the butter before Jace can drown another biscuit. “Scrumpy just had babies. That’s all. If anything, it explains why her appetite was so insatiable for a while there.”

"No,” Jace says. “They're organized. I bet there will be another family of racoons here next year, too.”

Evan gives his youngest brother a look. "Of course there will. That’s how it works when there are babies. The babies will grow up and have babies of their own.”

"See?! They're unionizing."

I snort into my cider, the laugh slipping out before I can stop it and the table goes silent as three sets of eyes swing to look at me. For half a second I wonder if I've broken some unspoken family rule.

Then Jace points his spoon at me triumphantly. "See? Willa agrees.”

“Willa does not agree,” I correct through another laugh. "I just think you say things with an alarming amount of confidence."

"I've found that's half the battle,” Jace says, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork.

"The other half?" I ask.

"Finding someone willing to believe me,” he says with a wink. This man winks a lot… he must think it’s charming. Maybe it is to some women.

"Has that ever happened?" I challenge him.

He considers it. "...Not with these two.”

Even Evan smiles at that. It's subtle. Barely more than the corner of his mouth tipping upward before he hides it behind another bite of chicken.

I catch myself studying the three brothers across the table.

They all carry traces of each other, like someone started with the same sketch and changed the details as they went. The same blue eyes. The same square jaw. The same easy height that makes every doorway look just a little too small.

But that's where the similarities end.

Jace smiles with his entire face, bright and effortless, his sandy hair refusing to stay in any one direction. He reminds me of golden retrievers and summer camp counselors and every boy who somehow talked his way out of trouble before anyone remembered they were supposed to be mad.

Evan is quieter. Sharper somehow. Darker hair than Jace, straighter posture, every movement deliberate, like he's already considered six possible outcomes before deciding to reach for the salt. If Brooks is the heart of Calder Cider and Jace is its personality, Evan is the blueprint keeping the whole place standing.

And then...

There's Brooks.