Page 115 of Forced Proximity
“Don’t even start,” I grunted as I sat down.
Finnian sighed. “I thought a do-gooder like her would’ve been more convincing.”
“You’ve met your son, right?” Audric snorted. “He’s a Casanova. He’s a good-looking kid with all that auburn wavy hair—my wife’s words, not mine—and he’s a fit and popular athlete. Like someone’s going to be able to say no to him if he puts out even a little bit of his charm.”
Audric had a point.
I knew our kids were good looking.
Hell, look at who his father was.
Remembering how impossible Finnian had been to resist, I knew this was a losing battle.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Aella snickered. “What was it that you told me last week? Kids will be kids?”
I flipped her off. “Go fuck yourself.”
Aella giggled.
Chevy pulled his wife into his arms and said, “Don’t tease her, dear. You know how out of control you were last week.”
Aella groaned. “I swear to God, I never signed up for this! I feel like these kids are turning into a bunch of sex fiends.”
“And y’all aren’t?” Denny entered the conversation. “I swear to God, we all have to beg to go downstairs when y’all go places because all y’all do is have loud sex. It’s disgusting. You all are disgusting. Mom, can I have ten dollars? I want to walk down to the sugar shack at the corner.”
Finnian pulled out a fifty and said, “Buy everyone some.”
Denny pocketed the fifty and walked away without another word.
“He has a point,” Finnian murmured as he watched his kid walk away. “If the worst thing they’re doing right now is having sex, I can handle it.”
“Well, you’ll handle it even more when you have a talk with him tomorrow night when we get home.”
The group laughed, and conversation topics changed.
But what didn’t change was the fun we had as a group.
I loved hanging out with all the Truth Tellers, their wives, and kids.
I never thought I’d be happy to be in the middle of these men, but there I was, happy as could be.
Later the next night, after we’d arrived home late, I found myself leaning against the counter and staring at the wall where our big calendar hung.
Next to that calendar was the start of our family wall.
But the photo front and center was the last photo that Tavi and Finnian had ever taken together—both of them smiling huge.
That photo never stopped putting a smile on my face.
Tavi may be gone, but he was never forgotten.
His brothers and sister knew all about him, and talked about him constantly as if they’d met him.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“Tavi,” I admitted.
