Page 11 of That Time I Kissed My Brother’s Best Friend
“Right.” I rake a hand through my hair. It’s still damp from the lake. “No one says no to Elaine Graham.”
“Heh. You remember.” He clears his throat, and looks down at his hands. “Anyway, it’s not just about my mom being ridiculous. We’re also kind of hoping the traditions will be nice for my grandma and my aunt, you know?”
“Yeah.” I shift my weight. “I’m really sorry about your grandpa. And your uncle.”
“Thanks, man.” His voice is thick and low. Emotional. Very un-Brady. “Me too.” He cuts his gaze to the coffee table. There’s a hairband in the center, and he scrambles to sit up. “Ahhh!” His eyes are bright now. “Kasey must be home.”
Kasey.My stomach clenches like a fist. A total gut punch. Multiple punches. “Your sister’s in town?”
Before he can answer, Mrs. Graham careens out of the kitchen. “I thought I heard men talking in here.” She makes eye contact with me. “And I’m gonna need another hug.” She swings toward me like a wrecking ball, and the next thing I know, I’m being crushed by Brady’s mom. She’s changed out of her wood-stacking gear into full Christmas mode. Her hair’s in a big red pile on top of her head. I almost can’t see past her while she’s squeezing me.
“Kasey!” she hollers toward the kitchen. “Get in here and say hi to Beau!”
Kasey comes around the corner slowly, andWhoa. My lungs empty out in one quick whoosh. Her hair’s a little longer than I remember. Not that I thought about her every day for the past five years. Except I did. That’s why I know her eyes are the same. So bright they could be the sun. Twin stars that never saw how I felt about her. I never let anyone see.
While I’m gasping for air, she waves at me. It’s a small one. So is her frown. “Hey there, Beau.”
I open my mouth, but I can’t speak. The good news is I don’t have to, because Brady’s off the couch and over to Kasey in a flash. He picks up his sister and spins her around like she’s light as a feather. They’re practically flying. When he sets her down, Kasey stumbles my way. She’s Bambi on ice. I catch her in my arms.
“Oof,” I say as Kasey crashes into me. At least I’m making noise with my mouth again. It’s not a good noise, but it’s better than nothing. When I pull her in, I smell cherries and sunshine. Like we’re on a beach. In Santa’s village.
“You all right?” I ask. My question comes out gruff like I’m choking on sand.
“I’m fine.” She wrenches herself from me and rounds on Brady. “Were youtryingto make me fall?”
Brady grins. “Can’t a guy be excited to see his little sister?”
She cocks her head. “Not when the guy is you.”
“Really, Kase.” His voice is thick with emotion again. Whoisthis guy and what did he do with Brady? “I missed you,” he says. “A lot.”
Kasey’s eyes soften, but she works her jaw like she definitely can’t trust us. Which makes sense. The last time all three of us were together, Brady was attacking her with water balloons. She was shivering. Wet. Crying. My insides crank like a vise at the memory.
“Oh, my babies.” Mrs. Graham grabs Kasey with one arm, then yanks Brady in with the other. I stand there, feeling like an idiot, while the three of them are mashed together. “Having you both home makes me so happy,” she says. “I wish I could hug you like this for the whole week. I suppose I can. Oh, but Brady.” She pulls away. “You’ll need to run back to your place and change soon.”
Brady looks down at his swim trunks and bare feet. “I think I’m good. Suit’s almost dry.”
Mrs. Graham puts her hands on her hips. “Did you remember to bring your ugly sweater?”
Nowthatgets me talking again. “What’s this about an ugly sweater, Brady?”
Mrs. Graham answers for him. “Tonight’s our Ugly Sweater Dinner, Beau. It’s a competition. The ugliest sweater wins. Did you ever come to one when you and Brady were kids?”
I dart a glance at Kasey. “Can’t say that I did.”
“Well, that’s just one of the things I’ve got planned for Christmas in July.” She digs in her apron pocket and retrieves a wrinkled paper. “I sketched out a schedule for the week. It’s a little rough, still.” She shoves her reading glasses up her nose. “Let’s see. Ugly Sweater Dinner and tree trimming is tonight. Tomorrow is cocoa and caroling.” She glances up at me. “By the way, Beau. You, Natalie, and your folks are coming over for that.”
I gulp like the Polar Express just rolled into the living room to pick me up. “We are?”
“Your mom and I planned it. We’re going to have so much fun!” Mrs. Graham checks her schedule again. “The next day, everyone will be here decorating gingerbread houses. I was thinking we could make that a competition, too, but the 4thof July parade floats are being judged that day.” She peers at me over her glasses. “What do you think, Beau? Is that too much competition?”
“I think—”
“You’re right.” She wrinkles her nose. “I think it’s too much. Anyway, the next day is the parade and the picnic for the 4th. Then we’ll be coming to your folks’ place afterward to watch the fireworks together.”
Another train pulls up to the station. All aboard. “You will?”
“Yes.” She waves her list like she’s waking me up. “After the parade, Beau. Try to keep up.”