Page 32 of The River in Spring
“I was going to introduce you.”
“When? You forced us to take things into our own hands,” Van says.
“We were really busy,” I say smiling.
When I look at Dove she’s smiling right along with me.
Van jumps down from the tailgate and Aargon follows. We start for the house.
“Tell me one thing, Dove,” Aargon says, climbing the steps. “Has he told you his birthday is this month? He doesn’t enjoy the day as much as we think he should. Most of our family celebrates birthdays like national holidays. Except for Nobel. We’re trying to change that.”
I shoot my brother the evil eye and shake my head. Dove looks as surprised as I thought she would.
“No, he didn’t tell me!”
I feel a sharp poke to my arm as we reach the door.
“It didn’t come up,” I say, letting her pass before me.
Turning, she grabs me by the shirt and brings her face close to mine. “Didn’t come up? That’s very funny.” She looks to my brothers and explains. “Mybirthday is next week! The twelfth. He’s been planning it for two weeks. What kind of bullshit is this?!”’I untangle from her hold and pin her hands behind her.
“You might want to rethink your aggressive ways, Princess.”
This pleases Aargon and Van immensely. They chuckle like they did when we were kids and our mom would call me out.
“It’s Nobel bullshit. Have you two met? He’s The Invisible Man,” Aargon adds. “Sometimes literally.”
I feel her arm link in mine. “Not to me he isn’t,” she says firmly.
Her comment lands in my heart and in my brothers’ minds. Her attitude and confidence are not unlike our mother’s. They like it, I can tell.
“Mom and Dad are having everyone for dinner,” Aargon says. He looks at Dove. “Can you and Noble make it?”
It’s said innocently, but my brother knows exactly what he’s doing going directly to her. They don’t know I’ve already beat them to the punch.
“I’d love to meet the people who created this one,” she says, pitching her thumb at me.
Endearing herself to the brothers Lyon.
They love her already. So do I.
10
Dove
Pop. Snap.
Nobel keeps cracking his knuckles, while we stand at his parents’ door. I have never seen him like this.
“Are you nervous?” I whisper.
“No,” he says a little too quickly. “Are you?
“No. I’m excited. Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s going to be fine.” I braid my fingers in his.
A look of hope passes behind his eyes. “Did you see something?”
“No. But I have a good feeling.” He wants a vision, but none appears. There is only the confidence I feel.
