“I always have a hug for you, Ophelia,” Isaac told her, a slight edge in his voice that no one would hear except me. Not because he didn’t love her or feel close to her; I assumed it was because she was killing us with the family and nephew thing, and we hadn’t even made it into the house yet.
Ophelia smiled at us, then ruffled my hair. “The two of you are close as ever, I see.”
“He’s my best friend,” I replied. I figured that was how I would approach us this weekend. I didn’t plan to call Isaac my brother at all. One step at a time.
“He’s all right,” Isaac joked.
“You’re such a brat,” Ophelia teased him.
“Stop hogging my sons,” Mom said from behind her. “They might both be in Atlanta right now, but I still don’t see them enough.”
I looked over in time to see Isaac flinch.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, hugging her.
“I’m so glad I get to see you again.” She kissed me on the cheek before going to Isaac. She put a hand to his. “You look tired. Why do you look so tired? Lane, are you making sure your brother gets enough sleep?”
In between rounds of fucking his brains out, yes.
“He’s the one who stays up all night painting,” Isaac said.
“Well, I’m used to that from him, not you. Something’s wrong. Are you okay?” Because of course Helena Ryan-Pierce would notice right away something was up. That was the way she was.
“He’s fine, Mom,” I replied, just as Isaac said, “I’m fine, Helena. Thank you.”
He winked my way. “Stop copying me.”
Finally, they let us into the house. Uncle Edgar and Dad—Timothy—were in the kitchen, talking about beer, one of Edgar’s favorite topics since he brewed his own.
We said hello to both of them before I asked, “Where’s Nana?”
“I’m right here!” she called from the direction of the stairs. “I was tired and going to take a nap, but then I heard my boys are here.” Ophelia and Edgar had three girls, so it was always the girls when talking about them and the boys when it came to Isaac and me.
“Hey, Nana.”
There were more hellos, more boys and brothers. As much as I loved spending time with the family, I was ready to go back to Isaac’s condo and keep ourselves locked away from the world again. It was so much easier there.
Isaac’s grandma Marcie arrived next, with his uncle Pete. The two of them lived in California, which was where Timothy was actually from. He’d met Isaac’s mom in college, fell in love, and when they graduated, he’d moved to Georgia to be with her.
My cousins all staggered in at different times, with their husbands and kids. We’d all ended up scattered across the United States, Ellie being in Ohio, Wendy in Michigan, and Taylor in Philly. She was the only one of my cousins who wasn’t married with children.
The house was loud the way it always was when we all got together. We spent time in the backyard, Isaac and Timothy at the grill. It was hard to get used to, but I’d decided I was going to work on using Timothy’s name. I didn’t know if it mattered, but it would put some distance between us. Despite Isaac saying he didn’t want me to lose calling him Dad, I knew I had to try to change the family dynamic a bit, hoping it would help in the long run.
“Mom says you brought a guy home?” Taylor asked.
My gaze flickered toward Isaac, who was standing close. “Yeah, but we broke up.”
“I’d never heard you were into men before that.” When I just shrugged, she said, “I thought you were going to leave the land of the single and join my sisters. Mom is always giving me a hard time about not settling down. At least I still have you and Isaac on my side.”
Yeah, not really, but I couldn’t tell her that. “No prospects?”
“Nah. It’s not easy finding the right girl.”
Taylor had come out a few years after Isaac. It’d been harder on Ophelia and Edgar to accept than it’d been for Mom and Timothy. Not that they’d ever turn their backs on her, but they’d been uncomfortable about it, wished things were different. Mom had told them that if they felt that way about Taylor, they must feel that way about Isaac too, and that she wouldn’t let anyone treat her son that way. It had woken them up, made them see they needed to love and accept Taylor the way Mom had Isaac.
“I’m more like your brother,” Taylor was saying. “I don’t know if I want to.”
Annoyance settled in my gut, which was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if Taylor knew Isaac and I were together. He’d always said he wasn’t looking for a relationship, so I couldn’t be upset at her for taking Isaac at his word, but the possessive part of me wanted to tell everyone that he was mine, that someone as great as Isaac wanted me. “He’s not my brother,” I replied without giving it much thought. “Not really.”