Only One (Reed Brothers)

Nick

It’s nice doing the family thing with the Carrie’s family. Really nice. I used to do this with my parents, and I didn’t realize how much I miss it. Mr. Michaels has grilled some steaks, and he motions for Carrie to follow him outside to check on them. I stand at the counter with Mrs. Michaels and help her arrange a salad. Which means I pretty much just watch her toss it.

“How is Carrie doing, Nick?” she asks.

I jerk my eyes up to her face. She stares at me, her eyes so much like Carrie’s that it’s startling. “She’s struggling,” I say.

She snorts. “Aren’t we all?”

Carrie and Mr. Michaels come back into the house, carrying a plate loaded with steaks and baked potatoes. They’re laughing together, and she looks so damn pretty that I can’t stop staring at her. Mrs. Michaels reaches over and closes my mouth for me. I grin at her and she smiles back. “I’ve always liked you, Nick,” she says.

“I’ve always liked you too, Mrs. Michaels,” I admit.

Her eyes soften. “You look so much like your dad.”

“Sometimes I forget what they looked like. What they sounded like.” I don’t know why I said that.

“I can understand that. I made a series of videos for Carrie for when I’m gone. Sort of a ‘your wedding day’ and a ‘your first baby’ kind of thing. Something she can look at when special days pass by and I’m not there.”

“Does she know about it?”

She shakes her head. “No one does.”

“That was smart of you. I wish I had that.”

She rubs my shoulder. “Your parents’ accident wasn’t exactly something they could plan for.”

Mr. Michaels walks into the kitchen. “What are your plans for college, Nick?” he asks. He bends and kisses Mrs. Michaels on the cheek. She blushes.

“Oh, I’m not going,” I say. I brush them off, because I don’t want to tell them how I want more than anything to go to college. I want to do everything my parents planned for me to do, and they planned for me to be a success.

His brow furrows. “Why not?”

“Too much to do here,” I murmur.

Mrs. Michaels motions everyone to the table and we sit down together. I feel a little out of place, but then Carrie reaches over and squeezes my knee under the table and I feel better immediately. I smile at her, and tangle my fingers up with hers.

Mrs. Michaels insists that I call her Patty. And she tells me to call Mr. Michaels John, but he glowers at me when she says it. I swipe a hand down my face to hide my smile.

Patty spends an hour telling me stories about when Carrie was little, and John chimes in at inappropriate moments and it makes everyone laugh. Carrie fidgets like she’s not quite sure what to do with this new family thing, but she’s enjoying it too, I can tell.

When everyone is done eating, Patty says, “John, we should let the kids do the dishes.” She stretches. “I’m really tired.” She shoots John a loaded glance and this time it’s him who squirms. “You about ready for bed?” she asks him.

He tosses his napkin onto his plate and stands up. “Can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be,” he says. He takes her hand in his and helps her up.

“You’re going to bed together?” Carrie blurts out.

John and Patty look at one another. “We’re really tired,” John says over a laugh. He pulls Patty toward the bedroom, and they close the door behind them amid whispers and giggles.

“Well, that’s just odd,” Carrie says. She stands and stares at the door.

I laugh. “I think it’s sweet.”

She’s quiet as we quickly load the dishwasher and clean up from dinner, but there’s not much to do and we’re done in a matter of minutes. I follow her to the couch. That’s when we hear the soft thump.

“What is that?” Carrie asks.

“Umm…”

“Do you hear that?” she asks. She tiptoes toward the hallway.

“Carrie,” I whisper at her.

“No, really,” she says. “What is that noise?”

Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump.

I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it.

She drops her face into her hands and says quietly, “My parents are having sex.”

“Apparently,” I say. I pull her hands down from her face, because her shoulders are shaking, and I think she’s crying. But I quickly realize that the tears are because she’s biting back her laughter.

She jerks her thumb toward the bedroom. “My parents are having sex!” she whisper-yells.

“Sure sounds like it.” I rock back on my heels.

“Like knocking boots.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Really going at it.”

“Yep.”

She giggles. “You want to go sit on the deck?”

Oh, thank God. “Yes, please!” I say quickly.

She walks out the sliding glass door and jumps down from the deck onto the sand. She’s barefoot, so I slip my shoes off too and follow her.

“Hey Nick!” a voice calls from down the beach.

I look over and see a small fire flickering in the sand, and all the Reeds are sitting around it. I wave at them.

“Come join us!” someone calls.

I look at Carrie and she just smiles and shrugs her shoulders. I take her hand and we walk toward the flames.

Paul is sitting with Friday almost in his lap, and he motions for us to take a seat on a spare towel. Carrie sits down. She already knows almost everyone here, except she might not know Reagan, Emily, or Friday, so they introduce her.

Sam walks down from the house, and he’s carrying a guitar in one hand and a bundle in the other. He passes the guitar to Emily, and the bundle he gives to Paul. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” Paul asks Sam.

“I think he wants some boobie,” Sam says.

“Well, I just happen to have some of that,” Friday says. She takes the baby from him, coos at him for a minute and then adjusts her shirt, cradling him to her. Paul throws a blanket over them and the baby goes still. And so does Friday. She leans against Paul and he turns to kiss her really quickly.

“You got enough boobie to feed ten of those,” Emily chirps.

Friday picks up a marshmallow and throws it at her. Logan catches it and eats it. Friday makes a face at her.

I can’t believe I’m sitting with the Reeds around a campfire. “No cameras?” I ask, looking around.

“We get time off sometimes,” Paul says.

“Where are the kids?” Carrie asks, looking into their faces.

“The good kids are sleeping. And the other one is on the boobie,” Matt says.

This time, Paul throws the marshmallow and it hits Matt in the middle of his forehead. Logan catches it on the ricochet and pops it in his mouth. He shrugs when Matt grouses at him.

“We get a nanny as part of the production crew when we travel. It’s kind of nice at night when they’re sleeping,” Paul explains. He looks fondly down at his own. “Or not sleeping, as the case may be.”

Sky is sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her toward the fire, and Matt’s head is in her lap. “How’s your mom feeling?” he asks Carrie. Sky drags her fingers down the length of his long hair, and he looks so content.

“Better,” she says. “Thank you for your help the other night. And all of you for moving furniture.”

I bet she’s wishing they’d tightened up those headboard bolts right about now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Matt says with a breezy wave. “I’m glad she’s feeling better.”

Emily starts to strum her guitar and everyone goes quiet. I can’t believe I’m sitting here listening to Emily Reed play her guitar. She’s famous for when she was playing with Fallen from Zero. Then she wrote a song that was supposed to be a fluke, but it took off and hit the charts a couple of weeks ago. It’s a beautiful song about love and loss and finding where you’re supposed to be.

“I’m taking requests,” she says.

She runs through a couple of upbeat songs that I know, and she does her single, and I have to pinch myself because I still can’t believe where I am and what I’m doing.

“Hey Nick,” Pete calls out.

“Yeah,” I reply. I can barely see him over the flames, but I know he’s there.

“Do you know any preachers?”

The guitar and all the people go quiet.

“A few, why?” I reply. I immediately think of Patty’s funeral, and I hope to God he’s not going to ask about that.

“Well, Reagan and I were thinking we might like to get married on the beach while we’re here.” He waits.

All the Reeds erupt at once, jumping to their feet to hug Pete and Reagan. “Are you serious?” Paul asks.

“Completely,” Pete says. He sits down with Reagan again and looks into her eyes. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“Then you two can have some babies too!” Sam cries, like he’s faking excitement. Then he pretends to heave.

Reagan snorts. “How much have you had to drink?” she asks. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Sam says. “You know you want kids too. Rug rats. Crumb snatchers. Diaper fillers.”

“Maybe someday,” Pete says, looking into her eyes. She nods at him and my heart goes pitter-patter for them. I want that look. I want that life.

“I just happen to know a preacher who owes me a favor,” I tell him.

“Speaking of kids…” Matt says.

Everyone goes quiet.

“No freaking way,” Sam breathes.

Matt lays a hand on Sky’s stomach. “Yes, way,” he says.

Carrie shakes her head and laughs as they do the congrats thing again.

“You figured out where those things are coming from yet?” Paul asks as he sits back down.

Sky blushes and Matt laughs. “Yep.”

Sam mocks Paul’s tone. “Do you need to get a condom from the drawer?”

Pete deepens his voice too. “You need to wrap that shit up.” He makes a circle with his finger in the air.

Matt laughs. “Okay, that’s enough,” he warns. “We know where they’re coming from.” He looks at Sky. “You can use me any time you want to get pregnant, baby,” he says. She shoves his chest when he pulls her down so he can kiss her.

Paul loads up a marshmallow stick and hands it to me. I offer it to Carrie and she nods. She roasts the marshmallow and pulls it back when it’s a glowing ember. She blows it, grinning at me over the top of it.

She’s happy right this minute. And I can’t help but think she’s the prettiest girl I have ever seen. And I don’t want to be anywhere but here, unless she leaves. And then I want to go with her. I’m referring to the campfire. I think.