Drew made a face like he smelled something bad. “Oranges are gross.”
I stared at my thirteen-year-old. His hair swooped into his face in a way I knew the teen girls loved. It was a touch lighter than mine, closer to his mother’s color. Just that flicker of thought had anger surging, even after all these years. And quick on its heels came the guilt.
I did what I always did—shoved it all down to that place that would never be opened.
“Since when?” I probed.
Drew let out an exaggerated shiver. “Since I realized how gross all the strings are. It’s like chewing on one of Gran’s knitting projects.”
Charlie’s chewing slowed, and he spat the piece of orange back into the bowl. “Yuck.”
I sent Drew a withering stare. “Thanks for that.”
He just laughed. “Can’t help if I’m always right. It’s one of the main reasons the babes love me.”
I bent my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. If we made it through high school without a pregnancy scare, it would be a miracle.
“Dad, can Cady come over after school for a playdate?” Charlie chimed in.
“I think they’ve got a lot going on with the wedding tomorrow, bud.”
Charlie frowned. “Since Uncle Roan is marrying Cady’s mom, does that mean I can’t marry Cady?”
Drew choked on his cereal. “It’s kind of incestual, little dude.”
“What’s in-in-ses-tal?” Charlie asked, struggling with the word.
I glared at his older brother. “Remember what we talked about? Not all words are meant for little ears.”
Charlie’s face scrunched up. “I’m not little!”
Drew rolled his eyes. “If you’re still crawling into Dad’s bed because you had a bad dream, I’d say you’re little.”
Charlie’s face went red, and he dropped his spoon into his bowl. Sliding off the stool, he bolted for his room.
A muscle beneath my eye began to flutter. “Drew.”
My middle son met my stare. While his hair was more like his mother’s, his eyes were mine, through and through. “It’s true. You gotta stop babying him, or he’s gonna be sleeping with you until he’s twenty.”
I sighed. “He had a nightmare.”
“That doesn’t mean he can’t sleep in his own bed. And he wakes me up, tromping down the hall and turning on every light known to man because he’s scared.”
“I’m sorry he woke you up, but that’s no reason to make him feel bad about being scared. We’ve all been there. As I remember, you had a bout of being frightened of a green monster you thought lived under your bed.”
A little bit of guilt slipped into Drew’s expression, and his shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I’ll go talk to him.”
I clamped a hand on Drew’s shoulder. “You’re a good brother.”
One corner of his mouth pulled up. “Say that when you drop me off at school. Make sure the babes hear. They eat that big-brother stuff up.”
I smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “Don’t call women and girlsbabes.”
Drew’s mouth curved into a full grin. “It’s a term of endearment. They love it.”
I bet they did.
I pinned him with a stare. “We treat women with respect, and we don’t toy with their emotions.”
