Page 5 of Hand Picked
As I followed Hawkins up the steps to Little Pippin Hollow’s town hall, I came to the uncomfortable realization that somehow, without my knowledge or consent, I’d gotten fuckingold.
I would swear to you that just yesterday, I’d been playing high school football and flirting with girls. Now, suddenly, I was That Guy, who needed to hold the railing while climbing the steps because I’d wrenched my back while shoveling snow, and who was trying really, really hard not to roll my eyes at all the exclamation points I could hear in Hawk’s outraged tone, because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had enough surplus energy to feel that much emotion over any-damn-thing.
This was not what I imagined thirty-eight would look like.
“It’stotalbullshit,” I agreed, though I was thinking more about my aching back than the proposed development. “But let’s go hear what the real estate people and the mayor have to say, okay? Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Hawk nodded once, firmly. “Know thy enemy,” he agreed, though that was not what I’d said at all. “Good call.”
My youngest sibling, seventeen-year-old Emma, gave me a concerned look behind Hawk’s back as he yanked open the door to the redbrick building. A look that saidDo something, Webb. But the best I could do was shrug in response.
Was it strange that my sweet, shy youngest brother was suddenly quotingThe Art of War?
Yup. Sure was.
And that was why I wasn’t home watching SportsCenter. For whatever reason, this proposed development was important to Hawk, so here I was.
But I had other shit to worry about, too. Like meeting with my attorney the next day about my ex-wife’s custody case. Like trying to gauge when I was supposed to start having birds-and-bees discussions with my very curious seven-year-old. Like figuring out the solution to an upcoming staffing issue at the orchard that would let me pay one of my part-timers for a nice, long maternity leave while also not leavingmedoing all the maple sugaring demonstrations. Like brainstorming how to bribe or guilt my uncle Drew into going to the doctor about the persistent shortness of breath he’d been pooh-poohing, since throwing a grown adult over your shoulder and forcing him to do things was frowned upon, even when that adult acted like a toddler. And all that being the case, I couldn’t see getting riled up over the fate of a little parcel of land the way Hawk was.
I knew that probably made me seem like a grumpy hard-ass but, well… maybe Iwasa hard-ass about a lot of things. Somebody needed to be.
The last—the very, absolute fuckinglast—thing I needed was one more thing to be responsible for.
When we got inside, I quickly spotted my older brother Knox standing in the corner with his boyfriend, Gage, and our neighbor, Norm Avery. I nudged Emma and Hawk to follow me as I made my way through the crowd.
“Hey.” Knox lifted his chin. “You get Aiden dropped off?”
“Yeah.” I unzipped my parka and stuck my gloves in the pockets. “He’s already messaging me play-by-plays of the hockey game and selfies of him with Olin’s dog.” I rolled my eyes. “Tomorrow, the New Puppy Campaign is gonna be dialed up to eleven, so brace yourselves.”
“Oh, it’s begun. He already told me Sally Ann doesn’t like playing fetch anymore and needs a puppy friend to ‘make her feel young again,’ like I’ve done for Knox.” Gage glanced soulfully up at my brother and batted his eyelashes. “I mean, he’s not wrong. Just think how I’ve changed your life, baby.”
“Jesus,” Knox grumbled. “Poor mutt doesn’t know what’s coming.” He grabbed Gage by the belt loop and hauled him closer, dropping an arm over his shoulder as Gage laughed.
“So, Webb.” Gage chafed his hands together expectantly. “How are you gonna spend your Aiden-free evening? Drinking? Debauchery? Nonstop revelry?”
Gage’s teasing was like sunshine—warm and light, the perfect counterpoint to my brother’s heavy sarcasm—and not for the first time since the two of them got together last fall, I wished I’d married a woman who fit me as well as Gage fit Knox.
But my ex-wife and I hadn’t been that way, even on our best days… and I had less than zero desire to get involved with anyone else.
“Clearly,” I agreed. “I mean, does it get more wild than the Little Pippin Hollow town meeting? And then later on…” I leaned in like I was imparting a secret. “I might really lose control and get a full eight hours of sleep, because no one will be standing by my bed at 2:00 a.m. to debate the existence of alien life in the universe.” I pursed my lips. “It takes a lot of stamina to party like me.”
Gage snickered. “You make getting older seem so… appealing.”
“Ugh.” Em shuddered. “And you make parenthood seem so…long. No breaks, even in the middle of the night. No, thank you. Not for me.”
I shrugged. I didn’t think about shit that way. Sure, this wasn’t what I’d envisioned when Amanda had first told me she was expecting eight-ish years ago. I’d imagined there’d be two of us to divide the labor and share the worry and… well, to be honest, I hadn’t really known just how much there’d be to worry about.
But I wasn’t complaining. I had a great life and hardly anything to complain about.
Every day, I worked the same land my great-grandparents had worked, so I could leave that land for Aiden and my great-grandkids.
I had an awesome family, including the extra members we’d collected over the years.
And I had a son who was by far the smartest person I knew, even though he sometimes did incomprehensible things like dunking his french fries in maple syrup or insisting yet again that Mr. Williams—overly cheerful, ridiculously earnest, annoying-as-fuck Luke Williams—was the best teacher ever, despite all evidence to the contrary.
The poor kid had no taste, but I had hopes that he’d grow out of it.
“And what’s it feel like to have a kidlet who’s disappointed when he hears there’s a second snow day?” Hawk’s lips twitched in amusement, no doubt remembering the way Aiden had stomped around gloomily that afternoon.
