With a Twist (Last Call #4)(76)

       
         
       
        

I know I sound like I have little respect for that, but that's not true at all. In fact, my sisters are all beautiful and loving women. Their husbands adore them, as they should, and their kids are wonderful. They lead damn good lives, and I couldn't be happier for them.

While Lacy and Jillian live in the Outer Banks, I don't get to see them as often as I do my parents. It's just because work keeps me so damned busy, that if I have free time for visiting, it's usually to see my parents. I'm lucky though, as sometimes they'll be over visiting as well.

But today is a day for a Banks family get together and Aubrey is hosting. I step through the white, picket swinging gate that borders around Aubrey and Chester's cream, bricked home. The front of the house faces the street and has a small, covered porch only big enough to walk up to the door. But along each side of the two-story home, they have sprawling, veranda-style porches filled with glossy, black-painted rocking chairs and large ceiling fans to stir the humid air. Baskets of trailing petunias hang over the railing to create a peaceful space to relax in on a warm, summer evening. I head up to the porch on the east side of the house, because the door on that side leads into the large, open-air country kitchen. I know that's where the family will be gathered.

Just as I reach the door, three of my nephews come barreling out, one of whom clocks me in the hip and yells out, "Sorry, Uncle Wyatt," before disappearing around the side of the house.

"Hellions, all of them," I hear from the door, turning to see Chester standing there.

Now, as a small-town attorney, it's apparently mandatory that you wear seersucker suits, straw hats, and silk bow ties when working. Chester does this to perfection. But when the man relaxes, he really relaxes. He greets me in a pair of frayed khaki shorts with a chocolate stain on one thigh and a threadbare Boston Celtics t-shirt that has a large hole under one armpit.

"Hey man," I say as I walk up the steps.

"Welcome to family day," he says drily as we shake hands. "Come on in …  I've got beer."

I walk into the kitchen, and I am immediately assaulted with the smell of baked ham and sweet potatoes. A whirlwind of remaining hellions circle around me, grabbing onto my legs and hugging my waist. After all the nieces and nephews are appropriately patted on the head, all except for Jillian's littlest …  Annie Lynn …  who insists on staying wrapped around my lower leg, I make my way over to greet the rest of the adults.

For the next ten minutes, I shoot the shit, sip on some beer, and lug around Annie Lynn, who remains attached to my leg. We talk about Chester's law practice, Lacy's book club, and Frank-who is married to Jillian-fills me in on his latest business venture …  which is apparently an antique store that's for sale. 

When dinner is finally served, we all sit around outside at large tables Chester and Aubrey had set out and covered with white tablecloths. The sun starts to set, and although it's on the opposite side of the house, it doesn't stop the Albemarle Sound from turning orange in the dying light.

I look around at my family …  healthy, happy, joking, and laughing, and fuck …  I want this too.

Almost as if by cue, my phone starts buzzing in my pocket and I pull it out. Andrea's beautiful face stares up at me, and I can't help the smile that comes to my face.

Standing up from my chair, I start walking toward the back of the yard that has a small rose garden and oddly enough …  a large, trellised pen covered in chicken wire that houses the pet peacocks my sister raises.

Weird …  I know.

"Hey babe," I say as I answer the phone. "Did you make it back okay?"

"Yeah," she says softly. "Just got in the house and getting unpacked."

The reason Andrea and I couldn't see each other is because she flew to Quantico on Friday for another interview with the BRIU. I didn't begrudge her that, and I'm hoping with all my might that she's offered the position. But damn this weekend fucking sucked without her. It's the first weekend in the last month that we haven't managed to see each other. Our work schedules must have been created from Heaven above, because for the last three weekends, neither one of us had to work.

The first weekend, we met in Annapolis, Maryland. The second weekend, I flew to Pittsburgh. Last weekend, she came back to Nags Head.

All three weekends were spectacular and we made the most of every minute we had together, completely shutting out the world around us. But as each weekend ended, and we were hugging and kissing each other goodbye, it seemed that it was just a little bit harder to let go each time. It was also not lost on us that we wouldn't be able to continue to see each other as often, mainly due to the expense of travel. Our chosen careers unfortunately did not pay enough for us to buy plane tickets every weekend.