Lexi grins, spinning on her heel in a half-squat, aims, throws, and I turn the bin to help the win. “Yes!”
Chuckling, I close the cabinet, take her hand and another deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
“You ready?”
Locking eyes with her I ask a question that’s deeper than she knows. “Are you?”
She laughs, “Truth?” toward the backyard. “I’m a little nervous.”
My chest tightens, but I don’t let it show, leading her outside onto a back porch weathered by time, heading toward a lawn just three steps below that’s large enough her cousin and his team could play football on it.
To our left is a series of foldouts covered with clean table cloths blowing in the warm breeze, enough food on them for a giant’s family.
Fifty, sixty, or seventy people —kids, too — are standing around, some sitting, all engaged in conversation.
The door behind us slams.
All heads turn.
Conversations vanish.
We stop where we are, just before the three steps that will take us down to the party.
We’re on a stage.
I’m not the performer type.
Everyone is staring at us.
My gaze swipes across familiar and unfamiliar faces as Lexi waves a quiet, “Hi," from where we stand on display.
From where she sits atop two floral cushions, a frail old woman shouts, “Lexi brought a hunk?!”
And everyone starts laughing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
LEXI
With a release of tension I cry out, “Grams!” glancing to Gage’s reaction. He grins, broad shoulders losing their stubborn hold.
Ever since inviting him, I’d been talking non-stop in an effort to make him comfortable. Distracted. It didn’t work. His energy felt like elastic pulled to its breaking point. A dozen times I expected him to bail.
Thank you, Grams.
Disaster averted.
As most of the party resumes suspended conversations, I lead the way to three steps I’ve run, walked or danced down all my life.
Whenever people remark on how it’s a miracle this porch is still intact after all the years since he and Grandma Nance bought this house, Grandpa Michael offers the same simple explanation — a proud, “Strong wood!”
It has seemed to me he meant the family more than material, even though Hunter laughed when I told him about my belief, double entendre too easy.
The crowd gives way to the most curious — my parents and two of my brothers, Max and Caden. Hunter doesn’t seem to be here. In searching for him and Sam, I lock eyes with her, and give her the silent signal, I need you!
She leaves Zoe’s side immediately, excusing herself to the guests as she pushes through.
Max arrives first to say, “So this isn’t Brad, I hear,” loud enough for the others to hear as our circle forms.
Whatever tension Gage let go of I pick up. “You’ve been talking to Wyatt and Nathan.”
Caden crosses arms free of his usual scrubs. “Yeah. They called us. And why didn’t you?”
“They let you out?” I toss back.
“I’m on call.”
“Too bad for me.”
He smirks, “Jerk.”
“Kids!”
“Yeah, Lexi,” Max demands, ignoring Mom, “Why do we have to hear about our sister from our…cousins?”
“Because my brothers are pains in the…butt, that’s why.”
He left out the word ‘fucking’ and I left out ‘ass’ since we try not to swear at Family BBQs, out of respect to Grams.
Try.
Mom, the shortest uber-adult here with the largest personality, thrusts out her small hand. “I’m Sarah Cocker, Lexi’s mother. The kind who might kick both of her sons’…butts if they don’t cut it out!”
“Gage Holbrook.” He shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. Now I see where Lexi gets her fire, and the curly red hair.”
“She never wears it like this, though. And her eyes are all my husband’s doing.” Mom smiles to our tall and lean, green-eyed father whose white hair frames a handsome face marred only by permanent frown lines born of concentration on the next big album. Pointing up, she adds, “He gave her a couple more inches in height, too.”
“Jason Cocker. Nice to meet you, Gage.” They shake hands as he cuts a reproachful glance my way. “Although I have to admit our sons have me beat. This is the first time I’m hearing about you.” Stepping back as Sammy completes the circle, he looks at Max. “You could’ve tipped me off that your sister had a boyfriend, don’t you think?”
“Isn’t that her job?”
Dad’s hands slide into his front jeans pockets — classic Cocker move when the men are irritated. “Aren’t you the one who crowds her? Who wisely said that kids don’t tell their parents everything?”
Max smirks, “This is one of those times, Dad.”
I sigh, “He’s not my boyfriend,” also irritated, but at the pressure they’re putting on this. On us.
Sam smiles and gives a little wave, “Hi Gage. A lot of people, huh?”
“Big family,” he nods, shoulders tight again.
Mom picks up Sammy’s cue to make him comfortable, a friendly smile lighting her up. “Don’t mind my rude husband and sons. They’ve just never met anyone Lexi has dated. Introduce yourselves!”
“Sorry, I’m Max.” They shake hands.
“Max is a film director,” Mom explains.
“I’m Caden.” Another firm handshake.
She beams, “Caden’s a surgeon. Just made hearts his specialty,” and is about to ask Gage what he does, when she’s interrupted by Grandma Nance.
“Foods ready! Everyone dig in!”
Because food is Dad’s kryptonite, he shouts, “Bout time!”
She shouts back, “Jason Cocker, are you feeling alright?”
Most heads turn except for those engaged in conversations too interesting to pause.
Dad frowns, “Yeah?! Why?!”
“Because of this!” She raises a glass pitcher of homemade ginger-ale, pointing to the table. “And the other one is still full, too!”
People chuckle.
Even him.
“I got distracted by my daughter bringing what Grams calls ‘a hunk’ to our BBQ, Ma! Sue me!”
“Well if that’s all it takes, then Lexi, your friend is welcome anytime!”
Laughter dominates the party as Dad, Max and Caden head off to eat, leaving Gage and I with just us girls as Mom mutters, “Why go now when there’s a line?”
Sammy and I say in unison, “Because they’ll cut through it.”
Mom’s almond eyes sharpen. “Oh no, they won’t!” and she hurries off.
Sammy, Gage and
