Page 34

Cole

One Year Later

T he front porch creaks under my boots as I lean against the railing, a cold bottle of beer sweating in my hand. The late-spring air smells like rosemary, warm earth, and Momma’s cherry pie cooling on the windowsill. The inside of the house is much different from the last time we were all here together. Instead of being cold and lifeless, full of anger and judgment, the house feels alive—bubbling over with noise and the kind of love that used to feel like it belonged to everyone else but me. Not anymore.

Michele pushes open the screen door, heading right past me toward the tables set up in the front yard. “Only Ms. Mel would choose to have a barbecue in the front yard, since the back is under construction.”

“Under construction is an understatement, Trouble.” I wink, bringing the non-alcoholic beer to my lips and taking a healthy pull. My eyes focus on her ass as she bends, placing whatever is in her hands on the table. “Darius said something about not liking to ride the elevator to the condo’s community pool, and a week later, there are contractors coming to the house to put in a pool.”

“She just wants to spoil her grandbabies.” Michelle giggles, the sound floating in the air, sweet and sharp like sunlight glinting off ice.

Her laughter has become one of my all-time favorite sounds, even more than the puck sliding across the ice. It wraps around me, filling my entire being with warmth. It's the same high that I used to chase with alcohol and pills.

“Spoiled?” I scoff, taking another healthy pull from the bottle. “Spoiled would be buying a gym membership, not tearing up the backyard and having an in-ground pool put in.”

“You’re just mad that she wouldn’t do it for you and your brothers when you were younger.”

I place the nearly empty bottle on the railing, reaching over and pulling Michele into me. “Maybe, but that’s beside that point. I just want to make sure everyone gets equal attention.”

Michele’s eyes widen, her hands pressing against my chest. “But I’m not…We aren’t… Wait, what?”

I chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I know, but it never hurts to plan for the future.”

Michele opens her mouth to respond just as the screen door bangs against the house, causing both of us to jump in surprise. Alise and Stacey come out the door, heading toward the row of tables sitting in the front yard.

“You’re wrong. There is no way I’m naming my son Gordie.” Stacey balances a plate of deviled eggs in her hand as she slowly makes her way down the front stairs.

“Let me grab that for you,” Michele offers, but Stacey pulls the plate closer to her.

Stacey’s belly curves out beneath the apron she borrowed from my mom, swatting at Michele’s hand. “Hell no. You already ate most of the ones I bought for the barbecue. Thank goodness Ms. Mel had eggs in the fridge so I could make some more.”

Michele isn’t the only one who's obsessed with these deviled eggs. Everyone in the family has been trying to snag one since she arrived, so she’s been guarding them like they’re buried treasure.

“What about baby names?” I chime in, trying to sneak an egg of my own off the plate, but Stacey’s faster, smacking my hand hard before continuing down the steps toward the tables.

Alise snatches my beer off the railing and takes a swig. Her face promptly pulls up in disgust. “How can you even drink that shit? I get that your not drinking alcohol, but this tastes even worse than beer.”

“The same way you can drink those fruity cocktails you love so much.”

“Well, those are good.”

“So is the beer, but since I can’t have beer this is the next best thing.”

Alise and I stare at each other for a few moments before we both break out into a fit of loud laughter. Things seemed to have gone right back to how they were between Alise and me. It took a while for me to open up to her about what was going on, but when I did, she didn’t judge me. No one did, but the fear was there. Instead, she smacked me upside the head, wrapped me in a warm hug, and then asked me what I wanted for dinner.

“We are going to have to agree to disagree, as usual, Cole. However, before we came outside, I told Stacey that Parker is going to want to name their son after a professional hockey player.”

“That’s not a bad idea. How about Cole?” I respond, earning another smack in the back of the head.

Behind me, the screen door bangs open as Kyle and Darius come rushing out onto the porch, a Nintendo Switch controller in one hand and what looks like a Super Soaker in the other.

“Which one first?” he asks, thrusting the two items in my direction.

“Can I get a little more information, Captain D?”

“The super soaker, but only if you keep it as far away from me as possible.” Michele grabs the Switch controller, shoving it into my pocket.

Darius gives her a mock salute before turning toward the other two ladies. “Anyone else?”

“No, thanks. I’m too big of a target, and Alise needs to help me bring the rest of the food out. Ms. Mel’s orders,” Stacey says as she waddles by, grabbing Alise’s hand and pulling her toward the door.

“Maybe go check with Kyle. He needs exercise.” I grin, already hearing my youngest brother complaining that I threw him under the bus, but he hasn’t moved since he came home a few weeks ago. “I’m down to play, too.”

“Sounds like a plan. Can I ask Cooper and Beau, too?”

“Sure thing, Captain D. I haven’t kicked my brothers’ butts with a water gun in a while.”

He disappears again in a blur of blue sneakers and boundless energy. I take a slow sip of my beer and close my eyes, letting the moment stretch wide around me.

Michele presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I slip an arm around her waist. “Just taking it in.”

She leans into me, the scent of cinnamon and rosemary clinging to her skin. “It’s weird, huh? Being happy?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “Still getting used to it.”

The road to recovery has been hard, harder than I expected, to be honest. Not only have I had to deal with the withdrawal symptoms from being dependent on drugs for all these years, but unpacking the reasons I started using in the first place has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Cole. We all are.” Michele smiles, planting a kiss on my chin before pulling out the Switch controller. “Ready for me to kick your butt in Mario Kart ?”

“I’m supposed to have an epic water gun fight with Darius and my brothers. Do you think they’d mind?”

“That’s not happening.” She giggles, pulling me toward the screen door and pointing inside.

Darius is seated on the couch between Kyle and Cooper, their eyes focused on something on the television, booing loudly as Stacey waddles past them to Parker. He opens his arms wide, beckoning for her to have a seat in his lap.

“I don’t think we’ll be playing Mario Kart either.” I chuckle as Kyle throws a handful of popcorn at Darius and loses spectacularly in Mario Kart . Cooper snatches the controller from Kyle, saying something to Darius before the entire room erupts into laughter.

“We can call the next game.” A soft smile curls at the corners of Michele’s mouth.

I open the screen door, bowing at the hip. “After you, milady.”

“Sorry.” My head snaps up at the sound of Ramona’s voice. Both of her hands are full of things for the barbecue. “I can just put these down and get out of your hair.”

Michele elbows me in the side before stepping around Ramona and heading inside. Ramona and I stare at each other, neither of us knowing what to say. We haven’t spent much time with each other without my brothers present, especially given the way she feels about my addiction.

“No worries. Can I help?” I tentatively reach my hand toward her, not wanting to overstep.

She smiles softly, handing one bowl to me. “Thank you, Cole.”

Neither one of us says a word as we head down the few stairs on the porch toward the front of the house. You’d think it was the Fourth of July, the way Momma has meticulously decorated almost every available surface. I'm surprised she didn’t figure out a way to hang streamers from the trees in our front yard, although she had Kyle and me hanging outdoor lights, just in case.

I place the bowl on the table full of food and turn to follow Michele into the house, but Ramona’s hand grips my arm before dropping it quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you without permission, but I…” Her voice trails off, her eyes focused on the ground.

“It’s okay, Ramona. Thanks for being considerate of my feelings, but you are allowed to touch me. Allowed might be a stretch because of how my brother feels about you, so probably minimal touching so I can keep my arms attached to my body.”

Ramona laughs loudly, tears spilling down her cheeks as she wraps her arms tightly around her waist. I stand there awkwardly for a few moments, running my hand through my hair as I search for an escape route.

“I’m sorry.” She gasps, trying to regain her composure. She stands to her full height, her eyes, full of determination, lock with mine. “I am sorry, Cole. For a lot of things. I’m sorry for the way I reacted when you told Coop and me about your addiction. I’m sorry about trying to keep you away from Darius. I’m just sorry. So very sorry.”

I step toward Ramona, wrapping her in my arms as a deep sob escapes her throat. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You don’t know me, and you had Darius’s safety to worry about. But I would never. Will never. Do anything to hurt him.”

“I know that now, but then….” She hiccups, swiping at the tears on her cheeks before smiling. “It doesn’t matter now. Either way, I wanted to apologize.”

“It's all water under the bridge, Ramona.”

“Call me Mona. All my friends do.”

“Are we friends?”

“No, we are family.” She holds her arms out toward me, giving me an out, but instead of running like I did in the past, I step into her arms.

“Yes, we are, Ramona. Yes, we are.”

I plant a kiss on her forehead and step out of her embrace as we both head inside the house. As soon as we cross the threshold, Ramona makes a beeline for Cooper, dropping onto the arm of the couch beside him. His eyes flick to mine, narrowing slightly, but I just smile. Cooper would do anything to protect Ramona from heartache, even if it means beating my ass. Once he’s satisfied that I didn’t harm his lady love, he turns back to the television.

“How did it go?” Michele whispers, sliding her arm around my waist and squeezing my hip two times.

“Why do I have a feeling you already know what happened outside with Ramona?”

“Because I do.” She smiles, her eyes remaining focused on my brothers and Darius on the couch. “Ramona has been trying to get a few minutes alone with you for months to apologize, but with you running anytime she enters the room, and Cooper hovering, she asked me for a little help.”

“You really are trouble.” I chuckle, planting a kiss on the side of her head. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” She giggles.

“Have you talked to either of your sisters lately?” I ask carefully, not wanting to poke at old wounds.

When she cut her father out of her life, her sisters and stepmother went right along with him, but a few months ago, both of her sisters reached out, wanting to repair the relationship they had. I doubt anything will ever go back to the way it was with any of them, but as long as they respect her boundaries, she’s willing to allow them to be a part of her life.

She nods. “Texted yesterday. She sent me a picture of her baby shower. Wished I was there, but?—”

“She understood why you weren’t,” I whisper, pulling her tighter into my side.

Her father still hasn’t apologized for the things he said about me and her mother, so they haven’t spoken. Not that he hasn’t tried many times over the last year to get in contact with her, but she refuses to give in.

“She does, and I’m glad, but I hate he did this to us, to our family,” she says, voice firm. “But he doesn’t get access to me until he apologizes for the things he said, and I know that’s never going to happen.”

I don’t argue. I don’t comfort. I just hold her, because at this point, that’s all I can do. Be there for her when she’s hurting and let her know I will always be here for her. Choosing me over her family is the biggest sacrifice she’ll ever have to make, but we have each other. Not to mention, my family has welcomed both of us with open arms. She belongs here. Not as someone I brought in, but as someone who claimed her own space.

“Okay, let’s eat,” Beau shouts, as he carries a large tray of assorted meats through the house and into the front yard.

At the mention of food, everyone stops what they are doing and starts moving toward the front door, but then it happens.

Beau stumbles slightly. It’s subtle at first—like he missed a step that wasn’t there. But then he blinks hard, sways again, and suddenly, the large platter shatters on the floor, and Beau goes down.

He drops like a stone. His body hits the floor hard.

“Jesus—BEAU!” Cooper’s already there, fingers pressed to his throat.

Michele’s faster than all of us, skidding to her knees, checking his pulse, calling his name, shaking him. Alise goes pale, frozen, her lips parted in a silent scream. Ramona pulls Darius close as he screams for his uncle Beau to get up.

“I need a phone!” Michele shouts. “Now!”

“Here!” Kyle fumbles his into her hand, eyes wide with panic.

I can’t breathe. My hands hover over Beau’s still form, not knowing where to touch or how to help. He’s pale. Too pale. His eyes flutter but don’t open. His chest rises shallowly, like his lungs are forgetting how to do their job.

“Is he—?” My voice cracks, panic sharp in my throat.

My heart slams against my ribs, the panic raw and rising fast. The laughter that filled this house just minutes ago is gone—evaporated. Replaced by the sharp, sterile edge of fear.

I press my hand to Beau’s chest. “Hey. You’re okay. Stay with me, man. Don’t mess around.”

His fingers twitch. His lips move. But no sound comes out. Everyone crowds around us, placing hands on him, wanting to make sure he’s breathing or something. I don’t know, but the need to touch him is overwhelming.

The sirens haven’t even started yet, and everything about this perfect night is already cracking at the edges.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. “Whatever happens next, we've got each other.”

But my heart is pounding too fast because the last time someone in our family collapsed like that…they didn’t get back up.

* * *

Thank you for reading Cheap Shot from Myself! I hope you loved Ramona and Cooper’s story. If you did, or even if your didn’t, I would be so grateful if you could please leave a review.