Page 83 of Back for Seconds

“Not sure yet.” Sal took the toothpick out of his mouth and flicked it across the lawn. “I’m really not sure what I have in me, pal. You know, Christmas makes me kind of soft. But I just spent four and a half hours on the phone with my stupid dad and—well, you know how I feel about my sister, right? Love her to death—she’s my best friend.” He turned to look at me, glee twinkling in the corner of his aquamarine eyes. “You know I love you, right?”

“Sal.” My voice was flooded with warning, fear. I grabbed at his arm, but he shook me off.“You’re freaking me out.”

“Of course I know that,” Brian chimed in, squaring his shoulders. “You were her maid of honor.”

“Then why the fuck—”

“Ok.” I grabbed Sal by his T-shirt, trying to pull him back toward my side. “There’s no need to do all this. Everyone needs to take a beat. Sal, let’s go.”

“Aw, why? I’m just having a little fun.” He grinned at me over his shoulder. “How much did you get in the divorce, Junie?”

I frowned. “I didn’t get anything, we just split—” Why was I telling my brother this? Irrelevant. I shook my head. “We’re leaving right now.”

“My baby sister got nothing in the divorce, just a broken heart.” His jaw clicked as he locked it into a mean clench. He looked like our dad. I wanted to slap him, shake him, tell him to fucking knock it off. He was scaring me. “So, why not get a little justice?”

“Sally, please,” I whispered, desperate, the material of his T-shirt still stretched and gathered in my hand. Why wasn’t he wearing a jacket? There was still snow on the ground; the ocean wind was whipping through the trees. “I don’t need you to fight this battle for me.”

“And if you hit me,” Brian interjected. “I’ll sue.”

Sal’s eyes cut away from mine and filled with a boyish glee. “Oh, no—not sue!”

This situation was spinning out of control. A spool of thread dropped on a slick marble floor. Unfurling faster and faster with every step I took after it. How many times had I seen this movie before?

I pushed at my brother’s chest, trying to edge him back toward his car. But god, he was pure muscle. He was a boulder—an unmovable boulder. “Please, Sal,” I begged. Now I sounded like my mother. “Please. All I wanted to know was how much I could pay him to fix his car.”

Sal’s mouth snapped into a mean, snarling smile. “Greedy bastard, isn’t he?”

“No! I wanted to—”

“Junebug. What the hell is going on?”

We all whipped around at that voice. Of fucking course.

Joey was walking out of the house half a block down from Brian, wearing a ridiculous sweater with a light-up reindeer nose and a pair of long-john pajama bottoms. They clung to every inch of his muscular thighs as he strode toward us at a powerful, speedy clip. His hair pulsed in the wind, as majestic and fluid as every other part of Joey.

I gulped. Not this again.

“Uh oh, Captain America’s here! Gotta make it fast then, huh?”

And with the sudden dexterity of a cat, Sal spun out of my hold and lunged for Brian. And then I lunged for Sal. And Joey lunged for me.

***

“Never in my life have I seen a group of thirty-year-olds act so childish. Ever.” Officer Burke was glowering at us, standing in the dingy narrow hallway between the holding area and his desk. The precinct hadn’t seen this much action since the last time the Eagles won the Super Bowl. Sal and Brian were seated together in the drunk tank, each of them holding a bag of ice to their faces. I was in a chair across from them, hands cuffed behind my back. Joey stood in the middle, arms crossed over his considerable chest as his left eye continued to darken. His lips were contorting into the most ridiculous little knot as he continued to hold back laughter. Laughter.

Officer Burke added, “I would love nothing more than to keep you both for the next twenty-four hours—but, dammit, it’s the day after Christmas. And the Birds won—”

“Go Birds,” we all said, a reverent chorus.

“So, I will let you all go. But Sal—you need to pay for the damages done to Brian’s car. And Brian, you need to tell your goddamned baby mama what the hell you did to Junie! And…you should all apologize to each other.”

We stared at our feet, silent.

“Right now,” Officer Burke thundered.

Brian’s eyes connected with mine through the bars, his russet hair mussed in a million directions, dried blood crusted on his top lip. He was a stranger. I didn’t recognize him at all.

“I’m sorry, June. For everything I’ve put you through. I didn’t…I didn’t cheat because of you. I cheated because I have a problem. With myself.”