Erin McCarthy - Sweet

“I accept that description in this particular instance. But for the record, the only girl I’ve been madly in love with is you.” He smiled at me. “Cross my heart.” And he did it. Just crossed his heart with those fingers that I knew so well, that had moved over my body with such tenderness and had held my hand when I needed strength.

“You’re the only guy I’ve been in love with, madly or otherwise.” I leaned against him. “I wish that I hadn’t done anything with Tyler,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for that. I am. I wish I could undo it.”

He was silent for a second and I waited anxiously for his response. “I know,” he said finally. “You couldn’t know the future. It’s not what I wanted either, but I trust him with my life, and you with my heart, so it’s all good.”

That meant more to me than just about anything. “I won’t hurt you,” I promised. “That’s the last thing I want.” I looked out at the river. “We should celebrate, you know? We’re getting married.” I felt insanely happy just thinking about it.

“I wish I had been more prepared. I could have really done something romantic here.”

“What, like serenade me with Justin Bieber’s ‘Boyfriend’?”

“Hell, no.”

“Take me to the bow of a cruise ship and tell me I’m flying, like in Titanic?”

“Uh, no.”

“Salsa dance with me to perfectly choreographed moves we magically know while a band suddenly appears behind us?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What could be any more romantic than those things?” I asked.

“I was thinking something simpler—like it would have been nice if I’d had a ring and some hooch.”

I laughed. “Hooch? Because the thought of marrying me makes you want to drink?”

“No, to toast with.”

“I think you’re supposed to do that with Champagne.”

He made a raspberry sound with his lips. “That stuff tastes like shit. It’s like asking for diabetes it’s so sweet, and besides, you pay fourteen bucks for a bottle and you only get four glasses out of it. A twenty-dollar bottle of whiskey will get you forty shots.”

“Classy,” I remarked, leaning on his shoulder in the dark, the lights of the city spread out like a blanket. I was feeling so in love, the night so delicious and perfect, it might as well have been Paris down there. It was just as romantic, in my eyes.

“The classiest thing about me is you,” he said.

That was a sweet thing to say, but I thought about it and wondered. “I don’t know how classy I really am. I think that was part of the ‘girl they wanted me to be.’ I think the real me is more the girl with bare feet in Zeke’s bar or chasing the vacuum thief around the yard. Jayden said I was a baller and I like to think there’s truth to that.”

“Damn straight. I wouldn’t want to mess with you, that’s for sure. So you’re a classy baller. You should form a bowling team with that name.”

I laughed so hard I started snorting, which made him laugh.

“I don’t know how to bowl,” I said, leaning backward.

“So learn. We got nothing but time.”

We did. The whole future, stretched out before us, just like downtown below.

Easton stared at me like I was the biggest idiot he’d ever encountered in his life. “That’s not going to work.”

“Sure it will,” I said cheerfully, even though I had no idea if I was right or not.

My thought was twofold. One, I was going to attempt a different tactic to get Easton to like me, because let’s face it, I was in this house for good and I didn’t want him glaring at me at random intervals. My angle couldn’t be Rory’s—I wasn’t baking any pies, and I couldn’t be counted on to give stellar advice or keep from swearing. But I could show him fun in a positive way, one that didn’t involve dirty magazines or throwing snack foods at people’s butts. Second, it was only mid-June and my skin was breaking out from being in a constant pool of sweat. Easton and Jayden were ripe, seemingly oblivious to the awesome merits of deodorant, so we all needed to cool down.

With all of our nerves stretched taut because of Riley being at the courthouse for the final custody hearing on Easton, I had spent twenty-five bucks on an inflatable Slip ’N Slide. Only when we got back to the house, I realized the ancient hose in the garage was cracked in about six spots. Not willing to be defeated, I went and found the roll of duct tape and was wrapping it around the hose to plug the leaks.

It was Friday, five days after Riley had proposed to me on the top of the church steps, and I was happier than I’d ever been. I loved being with him, and I felt like I was stepping up and tackling challenges instead of passively moving through my life. It may seem basic to some people, but taking on a busted hose was a personal triumph for me.

“Where does the water come from?” Jayden asked, chewing his fingernail as he watched me.

“The faucet.” I was sweating, hair flopping in my eyes. I kept checking my phone to see if Riley had called, even though it was in my pocket and I would feel it vibrate. I wasn’t sure what would happen if the judge ruled against Riley, but it wouldn’t be good.

Tyler was working a drywall job he had picked up, and I had wanted to go with Riley, but he had wanted me to stay with Easton, who was well aware what was happening. I was supposed to be a distraction, and in that regard, I supposed I was being successful. I had driven them to Walmart in Tyler’s car and it had taken us almost an hour of debating, well, me debating, which slide to buy. I was a little concerned about the whole inflatable bumper thing but they all seemed to have that now. I guess the head injuries from crashing into the garage were a thing of the past.

“Do we have a faucet?” Jayden asked, looking around.

Huh. “That’s a good question.” I had changed into my bikini top on pure optimism and heat exhaustion but I regretted not snagging a hair tie in mine and Riley’s room.

“There it is,” Easton said, pointing to the wall next to the back door.

Thank God. That would have been the ultimate fail.

“Does it work?” I asked.

Jayden twisted it and water sprayed out all over him. “It works!”

“Excellent.” I eyed the hose and the Slip ’N Slide, which I had yet to inflate. “What end goes where?”

“Read the directions,” Easton said.

“Nobody reads the directions,” Jayden said with a scoff.

Yeah, I had a hard time picturing Tyler or Riley flipping through instruction manuals. The only thing they flipped through were the channels on the TV. I didn’t think it was that offensive of a statement, but Easton shoved his brother.

“Hey!” Jayden said, shoving him back.

Realizing that Easton was feeling anxious, I didn’t think it was the time for Jayden to go head-to-head with him, so I stepped between them. “Jayden, come here and start blowing this up, please.” I was fairly certain that my breasts would distract Jayden from Easton and I was right.

He appeared dazzled and didn’t even bother to hide his gawking. “Yeah, okay,” he said to my chest.

A few minutes later, I left the duct tape roll dangling from the hose, sure I’d gotten all the cracks, and was heading to the faucet with one end to screw it in, Jayden swearing he was going to pass out after blowing up approximately five percent of the slide walls. Easton was throwing acorns at the garage.

Riley came around the corner and came to a stop when he saw us. He was wearing his least abused jeans and a plaid button-down shirt that looked like he’d borrowed from someone it was so foreign to his usual wardrobe. “What are you guys doing?”

“It’s a Slip ’N Slide,” Jayden told him.

“Jessica took us to Walmart and got it,” Easton said. “She bought us deodorant too.”

I gave a sheepish shoulder shrug, trying to gauge his mood. He didn’t look upset, but he didn’t look ecstatic either. “I thought it would be fun.” The Slip ’N Slide, not the deodorant.

“Wow, awesome,” he started to say.

Then suddenly, without warning, his face crumpled. He put his hands on his thighs and bent forward, like he was having trouble breathing or he was about to be sick.

“Riley,” I whispered, my heart sinking. Oh, God, no. It couldn’t be. I started toward him, dropping the hose. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head and when he glanced up at us, I could see the tears in his eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Jayden yelled in his overly loud voice, sounding terrified. I don’t imagine he’d ever seen his brother cry, except maybe at their mother’s funeral.

But Easton knew what it was. He bent over and picked up the Slip ’N Slide and threw it at the garage yelling, “No! No, they can’t fucking make me go! I won’t! I’ll run away, I’ll go to Canada! I’m not leaving!”

He kicked the hose, the dirt, the picnic table, and it snapped Riley out of his paralysis.

Riley start yelling back, “Hey, hey, calm down!” He went over to his brother and grabbed him by both arms.

Easton punched and kicked at him. I bit my lip, no clue what to do. I reached out for Jayden’s hand, needing to get and give comfort.

Riley pinned him against his own chest, getting his leg between Easton’s to prevent him from kicking, yanking his hands down to his sides. “Hey! It’s okay, stop! No one is taking you away from me. Not now. Not ever. The judge gave me full custody of you.”

The breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding escaped my mouth with an audible whoosh. I squeezed Jayden, feeling relief so huge I felt woozy.

“What?” Easton stopped struggling, and Riley loosened his grip on him. He turned around and looked up at his brother. “What do you mean?”