Wasted Words by Staci Hart
I tried to smile. “Yeah.”
A gust of wind blew through us, and we hunched our shoulders against it.
Mom grabbed my arm and shooed us toward the door. “Let’s get inside, boys.”
The house was cozy and warm, old country music playing through the speakers they had installed through the house. We moved into the kitchen, where my oldest younger sister sat at the island bar. She lit up, hopping off her stool.
“Tyler! You finally got here.” She bounded over and hugged me.
I laughed, comforted by her, even if she didn’t know I needed it. “Hey, Meg. I figured you’d be at a homecoming party tonight.”
She shrugged. “I am in a little bit. Just wanted to see you first.”
A thunder of feet and a riot of giggles came down the stairs, and when my youngest two sisters rounded the corner into the great room, I bent down and opened my arms. Grace and Jamie filled them, and I picked them both up at once, easy to do even at sixteen and eighteen.
“Gah, I missed you girls.”
They giggled more, laying kisses on my cheeks. I set them down and looked over the three of them, smiling. They looked just like my mom, dark eyes and fair hair, little things compared to Dad and me.
“Man, I’m glad to see you girls. Jamie, what’s this boyfriend I hear about? Do I need to threaten him with his life?”
She rolled her eyes and slapped me in the arm. “God, Tyler.”
I laughed. “I know Jeremy’s older brother well enough. If they’re anything alike, I’ll let him live.”
“Thank goodness because he’s taking me to homecoming, and I already ordered his boutonnière.”
“Gracie, I heard about Oliver Winslow asking you to the dance and called his brother. You don’t mind if we chaperone you, do you?”
Grace was the shy one — the only shy one, I’d note. She blushed, her fair skin blotchy as she looked down at her shoes, but when she glanced back up at me, she smiled, her mouth full of braces. “Ugh, you’re so embarrassing.”
“I learned it from Dad.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe I know the kids asking out my little sisters. Doesn’t anybody leave this town?”
My dad chuckled and handed me a beer. “Sometimes, but they almost always come back.”
Jamie bounced. “What’d you bring us?”
Mom clucked at her. “He just got home, girls. Give him a minute to sit down.”
I set my bag down on the counter and unzipped it. “It’s all right, Mom.” I dug around and pulled out Meg’s first. She reached for it, excited, eyes pouring over the cover of the book. “Oh, my God. Is this …” She flipped it over again and opened it, reading the gold leaf inscription on the inside. “Marianne was generous, amiable, interesting: she was everything but prudent.”
“It’s illustrated,” I added.
“Sense and Sensibility is my favorite,” she breathed. “Cam?”
I nodded, smiling past the pain her name brought me.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you. Tell her I love it for me, will you?”
“Of course,” I said and dug through my bag for more. My fingers grazed bubble wrap, and I pulled out Jamie’s gift.
She took it with wide eyes, unfastening the tape and unwinding the wrapping to reveal a silver hand mirror. “Tyler, this is beautiful.”
“It’s an antique. Victorian, the lady at the shop said.”
Mom’s eyes were wide too as she leaned over. “Look at that detailing on the back. This is just exquisite.”
I smiled. “Glad you think so.” I handed her another bubble wrapped package.
“Oh, Tyler,” she said, laughing as she took it and opened it up to find a similar mirror, though hers was gilded, the scrollwork more intricate. She gaped and ran her fingers over it.
Grace nibbled on her lip, looking self-conscious.
“Don’t worry, Gracie. I didn’t forget you.” I dug around some more, looking for a small box, exclaiming an ah-ha! when I found it. I handed it over to her, and she took it tentatively.
She turned it over in her hands before opening it, gasping when she saw the gold necklace inside. It was simple, a small, dainty chain with a tiny heart hanging from it.
“Now you’ve always got a little piece of my heart,” I said, and she rushed me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“You’re seriously the best brother in the whole world.”
I smiled down at her and hugged her back. “How would you know? You’ve only got one.”
She squeezed me a little tighter. “I just do.”
“All right, girls,” Mom said, gathering them up. “Come on and let’s to put that movie on. Give Tyler a rest — you’ll see him plenty this weekend.”
They passed around hugs and kisses before going upstairs, though Meg stayed where she was, drinking a beer with Dad and I at the island.
I zipped up my bag and set it on the floor before taking a seat next to her.
Dad leaned on the surface across from me. “How’s it going, son?”
I took a sip of my beer and shrugged. “Good. We survived Pharaoh, so that’s a win.”
He shook his head. “I’m glad it’s blowing over, but man. That kid. You won’t have any of that kind of trouble with Darryl.”
“No, I don’t suspect I will. He’s a good kid.”
“One of the best. He’s had agents all over him, which isn’t surprising. He’s one of the best running backs in college ball.”