Family Ties

“Ready for another?”

We had just returned from the kitchen when the girls appeared from upstairs. Wren was grinning from ear to ear, while Christy couldn’t decide between smug or embarrassed.

“Have you guys been drinking without us?” Wren asked.

Trip stood and grinned. “Yes, we have, my beautiful little matchmaker.

But allow me to fix you drinks so you can catch up.” He cleared his throat.

“Are we celebrating?”

Christy turned pink.

“Just a fun weekend,” Wren said. She smiled at Christy and then included me with the same warmth.

“Sounds good to me,” he said.

“We brought home dinner from Puckett’s,” she added for our benefit.

“Barbecue for us and chicken and dumplings for you,” she told Christy.

“Let’s heat it up while the guys fix drinks and pick out music.”

“Your wish,” I told her with a glint of mischief, “is our command.”

“You know, I’m in such a good mood that I’m going to forget you said that.”

We ate and drank and talked and drank and listened to music and drank some

more, until well after midnight.

“Trip Whitman,” she said with elaborate care, “I would like to request the presence of your pleasure upstairs.”

“I think you meant—” I began.

“Don’t c’rect me,” she said drunk-imperiously. “Trip knows wha’ I meant, even if I did mix it up.”

“Probably,” I said with a grin. “Your wish is his command.”

“As it should be. An’ in the spirit of bein’ more p’lite—”

“Thank you,” she allowed.

ask my sweetie t’ come u’stairs an’ screw my brains out.”

“And they say romance is dead,” I quipped.

“Be nice,” Christy whispered.

“You’re jus’ jealous,” Wren said.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Trip extended a hand. “I have plans for you.

He and I were a lot less drunk than the girls, who’d insisted on opening a bottle of champagne after we finished the Jack Daniel’s. Wren had drunk most of the bubbly, but Christy had polished off two glasses herself.

“You okay?” Trip said to me.

“Fine.” I brandished my Coke.

“All right. Glad you made it home safe. See you in the morning.” Wren swayed a bit unsteadily and he revised his estimate, “Maybe the afternoon.”

“Right. Have fun. See you tomorrow.”

Christy and I watched them go through the living room and then up the stairs.

“You ready for bed too?” I asked her. “You wanna spend th— Oh, okay.”

She’d climbed into my lap.