Page 19 of Next in Line
Everyone’s smile falls as we stare at her in disturbed horror. I look at my oldest sister, Tracey, who’s horrified eyes are locked on her daughter. “Kinsley, what did Mommy say about murder?”
“Come again?” I croak, rapidly blinking up at her from where she stands on the other side of me.
Kinsley’s voice sounds sad. “Don’t repeat what you hear in Mommy’s car.”
Tracey laughs awkwardly and looks around at all of us with crazy eyes. “I’m so sorry. She heard a tiny little bit of My Favorite Murder podcast, and now she’s all weird and murdery. We’re working on it.”
My other two sisters, Erin and Holly, do nothing to conceal their looks of judgment as they both balance a toddler on their hips.
“Work harder maybe,” Holly states, grabbing Tracey’s arm seriously.
“Shut up, Holly! Like you’re one to talk. Isaiah fell out of his crib last week.”
“That situation is under control!” she growls back through clenched teeth while clutching her one-year-old tightly to her chest.
“So is mine,” Tracey harrumphs.
“Girls…my darling grandchildren clearly don’t need to watch you two have a catfight, so please, sit down and eat your feelings like normal mothers.”
My three sisters all sullenly take their seats as my mom dishes everyone a giant piece of white sheet cake. Between my three older sisters, I’m the proud uncle to three nephews and, apparently, one murder-loving niece. Holly’s having her second child any day now to even the playing field a little for the girls.
My sisters all look just like my mom with fair skin, freckles, and shades of auburn hair. However, the truth is, my mom looks more like their oldest sister than their mother because the woman hasn’t aged a day since I was old enough to notice.
Debrah O’Connor is an RN at the hospital in Boulder and a favorite with all her patients. She works way too fucking hard, but you can’t stop her. She’ll work a twelve-hour shift, bake a birthday cake, and still offer to babysit all her grandkids without hesitation. She is like the Energizer Bunny.
And even though she doesn’t have a single gray strand in her short, auburn hair, I know working so hard wears on her. Occasionally, when she thinks no one is looking, I see her wincing when she’s crawling on the floor with her grandkids. She’s only sixty-years-old, but all those years of working on the hospital floors have taken a toll. I can tell her she’s pushing herself too hard, and I frequently ride her ass about retiring but she just shushes me and says she has a plan and she can’t afford to quit now.
It kills me because I want to fix it for her. She deserves that.
“I’m glad you could come over for some cake, Sammy,” Mom says, smiling at me with that motherly twinkle in her eye.
“Well, I had to fix your garage door, so I figured I could choke down some cake too.” I wink playfully at her because she knows I’ll always be parked at this old kitchen table on my birthday eating her homemade sheet cake with my face printed on it.
“I told you the garage door could wait,” she tuts, the corners of her mouth turning down.
I stare at her for a beat. “Mom, it’s twenty below out there. You don’t need to be parking your car outside.”
“I don’t mind!”
“Speaking of fixing stuff,” Tracey interrupts and looks straight at me. “My water softener has been really loud lately, Sammy. What do you think that means?”
“Is it still cycling salt through?” I ask, pushing my bite of cake to the corner of my mouth.
Tracey looks at me with blank eyes. “How would I know?”
“When’s the last time you put salt in the tank?”
Her lips twist into a grimace. “Matt was probably the last one to do it.”
I nod and inhale when she mentions her ex-husband who was about as handy as a toddler. “I’ll come look at it tomorrow.”
“Thank you!” she rushes out in gratitude. “Did you hear that, guys? Uncle Sammy is coming over tomorrow for Sunday Funday.”
“Yes!” Zion exclaims. “We’re going to playMadden, and I am going to destroy you…again.”
I roll my eyes. “You’d better watch it, twerp, or I’ll bring in my secret weapon.”
“Which is?” Zion stares back at me with a challenge in his eyes.
