Page 22 of Rough Cowboy
“Why are you being such an asshole?” I bark at my brother.
“Now I’m the asshole?”
“Pay attention, something’s got her knickers in a bunch, and I very much doubt it’s only me.”
“Three!”
Elsie steps back, and her rear end bumps into my groin. My free hand lands on her hip. There’s a bit more cushion here. I like it.
I hear her slight intake of air.
“I got you. Relax.” Why the hell I’m trying to console her is unfamiliar, and yet, I’m drawn to doing just that.
I guide us backward, and together we slice the scissors blade through the tape.
She can’t step away from me soon enough when we reach the end. I even garner another glare she can’t seem to tear away from me. Anger and sadness mingle in her fiery stare, but so does a hint of gratefulness.
“Elsie?” Sammy stands on the opposite side of the box. He’s hunched over, holding the cardboard flaps closed.
Elsie’s gaze slides to his.
“Let’s open it at the same time.” He gives the lid a little shake.
I don’t like the jealousy penetrating my soul when she smiles at him.
I take a shaky step back, trying to figure out why the hell I’d be upset she smiled at my damn brother. She smiles at him all the fucking time. The difference is she isn’t sending me her flirtatious risqué look. She hasn’t since I’ve returned; deep down, that’s been scraping away at me. Now, I’d bet my career it’s because those two are knocking boots.
“Open! Open!” the people chant.
“Sammy!”
“Silver!”
Sammy and Elsie lift the flaps. White and silver balloons fly into the sky. Others remain tied to a sign the length of the box that pops out. The bobbing balloons perfectly frame the announcement. It takes the crowd a second to read the names.
Congrats Elsie and baby-daddy Silver Sammy.
Only my name has a giant X through it, and Sammy’s name is circled.
My brother is the dad.
The town goes wild. Confetti poppers burst open. Party horns blow—Kazoos whistle.
Shit.
Am I supposed to smile? Am I supposed to be happy and relieved?
Fuck.
I think so.
What does my face say? I’m sure it says how much I think a baby reveal is bullshit.
My parents and brothers and all the family’s newest members—girlfriends, fiancés, wives, kids—dash to Elsie and Sammy. Hugs and kisses are passed around like they’re being crowned World Champion at the end of the rodeo season.
“Uncle Sammy, you’re going to be a daddy!” My niece Libby bounces into my brother’s arms. “And I’m going to have another cousin.”
“You sure are.” Sammy wraps his free arm around Elsie’s hip and pulls her flush against his side.
