Page 11 of Single Malt
“Uncle Brody!” My eight-year-old niece barreled into me.
I managed to shift enough to avoid getting a shoulder in my crotch and then glared at my brother as he tried not to laugh. Alec was the firstborn on the McCrae side of the family and the only one of us kids to retain a Scottish accent. It wasn’t as thick as Da’s, but having spent his college years in Glasgow and consciously making a point to keep his accent, it was there unless he decided to intentionally Americanize it.
“Hey, kiddo.” I gave her a hug. “You back in school yet?”
“Of course, Uncle Brody.” Evanne rolled her eyes before skipping off.
“Eight goin’ on thirty, that one,” I said to Alec.
Aside from when my emotions got the best of me, the only time I really had an accent was when I spoke to Alec. When we’d first moved to the U.S., Alec had seen changing the way we spoke as losing our mother all over again, distancing ourselves from her. I was the only one he’d told that to, so I’d done my best to maintain my own accent, at least when I talked to him.
“Aye.” The love on his face as he watched his daughter was plain to see. He wasn’t the most vocal person when it came to talking about how he felt, but no one who ever saw them together could doubt how much he loved her.
We all did, regardless of which of us shared DNA with her. We’d all fight and die for her without question. McCrae, Carideo, Gracen. It didn’t matter if we called our parents Da and Theresa or Patrick and Mom, or some mixture of the two. We were family.
“Brody, please tell me you have whiskey with you.” Paris’s mocha brown eyes were slightly panicked as she came up to me. “I forgot to get the wine, and we can’t make a toast with water. It’s bad luck.”
I resisted the urge to pat my sister on the head just to annoy her. She just wanted everything to go well for Theresa’s birthday. Like a good big brother, I held up the bag I’d brought in along with Mom’s present.
“I always bring a couple bottles for the family to take home.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” She kissed my cheek and raced off with the bag.
“She forgot the wine, didn’t she?” Rome asked, shaking his head. “I told her I’d help her with the planning, but she insisted she wanted to do it herself since she would be here.”
“She forgot it,” I confirmed. “But if I was you, I wouldn’t mention it.”
Rome gave me a sideways look. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Well, you did challenge Sean to an eggnog drinking contest at Christmas, and when he said no, you decided to prove to him it wasn’t a bad idea to–”
Rome punched my shoulder. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Mom doesn’t know about that.”
“Everyone, come over to the computer,” Mom called out. “Xander’s doing a video call.”
I followed the rest of my siblings over to where Mom was sitting. Sean’s twin, Xander, lived in England where he played football –realfootball as Da would say – for Tottenham Hotspur, which meant he lived farther away from home than any of the rest of us. Which also meant he made it home the least amount. Needless-to-say, this wasn’t the first time we’d done a video call with him.
Or some of the others.
Over the past two years, we’d at least shifted to conference calls where we could get everyone at once. Well, almost everyone. Eoin wasn’t always able to join in, and I saw that was the case today. That meant we’d be talking to Xander as well as Blaze in Baltimore, Rose from her ranch in Colorado, and the New York trio: Maggie, London, and Carson.
After everyone was on the call, Paris handed out a finger of whiskey to those of us who were present, and everyone in their own homes got whatever they had available. When we were all set, we looked to Da for the toast.
“Another year with this wonderful woman.” Da smiled at Theresa, his light blue eyes shining. “And every day, I thank the good Lord for her comin’ into this world an unmentioned number of years ago.”
Mom smacked his arm playfully.
“I ken better than to be tellin’ a woman’s age,” he said with a grin that looked just like the one I saw in the mirror every morning.
She laughed. “Get on with it, Patrick.”
“Happy birthday.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “To my heart, my love.Sláinte.” He raised his glass, and we did the same, echoing the last word.
After the toast, Mom and Da talked to my siblings on the screen while the rest of us drifted around the living room, waiting for the call to end and Paris to bring out the cake. I followed Cory and Fury, telling myself I just wanted to tell them how things were going with my possible Stanford contract.
It had nothing to do with the woman I’d found there.
“You heard from Dr. Josephs yet?” Fury asked as he leaned against the entryway to the kitchen.