Page 61 of Don't Fall For Your Best Friend
I turn and raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m not respectful?”
“Anya, don’t start with your brother,” our mother says, her short blonde bob rustling across her shoulders as she shakes her head.
“No, I’m saying some of you should take care of and respect women more. Especially your sister.” She narrows her eyes, looking past me to Callum.
“What’s going on?” my mom asks.
“Nothing, Mom,” I say, not wanting to get into what’s going on between Anya and Callum. “She’s probably upset because she misses college.”
“That’s not true.” Anya parks a hand on her hip. “I want to be taken seriously around here.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “You need to talk to him. Get him to see your side of things.”
“Who’s not taking you seriously?” our mother asks.
Anya huffs. “Nothing, Mom. It’s fine.”
“Shepherd just got back into town,” my mother says, obviously changing the subject from what Anya’s upset about. “Why don’t you two go and say hi to him while I speak with my daughter.” My mother wraps her arm around Anya, and Hartford and I take the hint to get out of the kitchen.
Hartford and I head into the living room, and nearly everyone is here. My father sits in a recliner, facing the TV, watching a baseball game. I glance at the screen, and see it’s an old Minor League game my father likes to watch over and over.
Callum and Shepherd sit on the couch watching the game as well. I haven’t seen Shepherd in months.
Brock and Tripp aren’t here yet, and I urge Hartford further into the living room.
“Hey, Shep,” I say, and Shepherd turns to face me.
He bounds from the couch to hug Hartford first—asshole—and then me. “Hey, it's been a long time. I’ve missed you guys.”
“Your beard is out of control. You look like a mountain man. Isn’t it hot down in Florida?”
“I was there during winter, so the weather was perfect.” Shepherd runs his fingers through his bushy beard. “I’ll trim the beard once I get home. I came straight here from the airport.”
“So you haven’t even been home yet?” Hartford asks.
Shep shakes his head. “Not yet. I’ll probably dip out of dinner early. I’m exhausted and kind of have some things to do at my place.”
I want to ask him what he possibly has to do, but I don’t bother, because Shepherd is already sitting back down on the couch to continue watching the game. Hartford sits next to him, and together they discuss the game on the TV with my father.
“Hey, Callum,” I say, wondering if I should mention that he needs to go and talk to Anya in the kitchen, but I really don’t want to add fuel to the fire.
He gives me a quick chin nod, and that solidifies my mind to not involve myself between the two of them. I still need to hear Anya’s ideas, and I wonder if now is a good time.
“Do you need a drink?” I ask Hartford.
She glances my way. “Sure. Lemonade?”
I nod and head back into the kitchen as Callum and Shepherd shout drink orders at my back. I’m only here to take care of Hartford, they can get their own drinks.
My mother’s busy in the kitchen as Anya helps out.
I smile at them both, and head toward the fridge. “Did you want to tell me your idea?” I ask Anya.
“It’s not any big deal, I guess. I just think that back room at the restaurant that you all do nothing with should be used to book parties. You could have private dinners, rehearsal dinners, birthday dinners. The possibilities are endless.”
I think about her idea. That room has the ability to be something great. I don’t know how we haven’t thought of it before. It’s just always been a catch-all for anything we couldn’t find a place for. The room is filled with boxes, but I can imagine it filled with tables topped with white crisp linens. “It’s a good idea, Anya.”
My mother beams. “I think it’s the best idea. Callum’s an idiot for not listening to her.” My mother smiles, and Anya and I raise our brows. My mother lifts a shoulder. “I can call my oldest son an idiot if I think he’s being one.”