I pull the paper back and stop. And frown. And turn to my head to side to see if abstract observation helps.
I hold the tool up in front of my face. “I don’t get it. What is it?”
“It’s a pipe wrench,” Jack answers disinterestedly. He turns back to the TV and un-pauses the game.
Turning the pipe wrench in my hand, I look up to my brother. “I don’t get it.”
He chuckles softly. “If someone comes in here uninvited, you hit them with that, Sissy. Hit them really fucking hard. Don’t stop hitting them until I get here and help you bury the body.”
Kit laughs. Bobby laughs. Aiden does his serious man chuckle.
I burst into tears and throw myself at my brother. “I love you, Jon.”
“Aw, don’t cry, Sissy.” He pulls me in tight the way he has since the day I was born. I grew up sleeping on my brother’s chest. Dirty diaper. Hungry belly. Drool on his adolescent chest. “It was a joke. Sort of. I need you to protect yourself, Iz. If someone comes in here, don’t stop hitting them. I’ll take care of everything after that, but if you insist on staying here, alone, then I need you to take this wrench seriously.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Come home with me. I’m begging you.”
“Here, I want a go, too.” Bobby takes me from Jon’s arms and makes me cry harder. I need to stop this shit before I give them heart attacks from worry.
I lean on Bobby for a minute more, because he’d be offended if I pulled away too soon, but after that minute, I vow that I’ll pull my shit together. I need to be strong. I’m going to be a mom in a few weeks.
I already am a mom.
I snuggle into the brother that I was gifted before I was old enough to understand that not all brothers are related by blood. Popping an eye open defensively against the heat I feel on the side of my face, I stop on an angrily staring Jimmy. Strong arms folded across his chest. Permanent scowl marring his beautiful face. Perpetual anger that he never used to wear is now always pointed at me.
Instantly breaking my vow to stand on my own two feet and getting my shit together, I hold Bobby a minute longer.
I’m not ready to stand alone under Jimmy’s glare.
It takes until after ten before I push everyone out the front door. Jon offered to sleep on my couch. Bobby offered up a legit security team to stand at the door. Jack asked if he could move into the spare room. I simply picked up my wrench and promised to start practicing on them.
I promised a goodnight text to each of them – except Jimmy, since he didn’t ask. And a ‘good morning, I’m still alive’ text to each of them.
Except Jimmy. He didn’t ask.
Closing the door behind everyone, with my phone in one hand and my wrench in the other, I turn to my now quiet home and sigh.
I’m tempted to sing that Akon song.I’m So Lonely, I’m Mrs. Lonely.
Stepping through the tidy living room, since there was no way my brothers were going to leave a mess, and into my new kitchen, I stop and take mental stock of what I need to buy to make this house into a home.
He only owns two hand towels. So I need more. He has no mixing bowls or tea bags at all; add those to my list. I open drawers and cupboards and plan a trip to the store tomorrow afternoon.
I clutch my new wrench against my chest as though it were a beautiful red rose rather than a cold plumbing tool, and I leave the kitchen and walk down the hallway. I pass the bathroom on the left, then one of the three bedrooms on the right. I poke my head into the first and add to my list of things to buy – new linen. I haven’t started baby shopping yet; crib, diapers, clothes. I need to buy my new car, then I need to buy a car seat to bring my baby home in.
I walk back into the hallway and move toward the next bedroom. I poke my head into the master and sigh. This is mine. My duffel bag rests on the end of the freshly made bed, and a snickers bar sits temptingly on the bedside table.
With a content smile, I turn back to the hall and make my way to the end. Absentmindedly, I open the final door, expecting an empty room that maybe smells like guy sweat, since this was Bobby’s weight room once, but instead of testosterone, I find a baby paradise.
My eyes well up as I take in the gray and yellow walls, the tall giraffe decals that stretch almost to the ceiling, the fluffy clouds, the bean stalks that grow along the walls. Fat tears roll over my cheeks as I shakily step inside and turn to take it all in.
I love my family so much.
A beautiful white sleigh crib sits against one wall, and a rocking chair waits invitingly right beside it. I peek inside the closet and find dozens and dozens of tiny body suits in yellows, lime greens, whites, and rainbows. On one side of the hanging closet, five or six beautiful pink dresses hang, and next to them, the same number of boy sets in navy and green.
Whoever did this has me covered for either sex.
Inside the crib lies a little stuffed puppy that’s identical to the puppy Evie drags around, and next to him rests a white envelope with my name in messy scrawled handwriting.
With shaking hands, I reach in and grab the puppy and the envelope.