The lake house.
A staple of our youth. The one place that holds more memories than I can count.
It still feels like home.
Two doors shut quietly in the silent night, and I glance over my shoulder to find Remy and Ty walking toward me.
“Man, I forgot how peaceful it is out here,” Rem comments, his voice tinged with awe.
I squint my eyes as I look out toward Greenwood Lake, my gaze focusing on the way the light of the dock bounces off the ripples of the mostly calm water.
“Flynn, I still can’t believe you brought us to the cabin. On the night of Remy’s bachelor party,” Jude comments as he slams his door shut and walks to the front of the Bronco where Rem, Ty, and I stand. “I mean, what are we supposed to do here? Go fucking fishing?”
“Shh,” Ty shushes him, slapping a hand directly over Jude’s mouth. “You’re going to wake up Aunt Paula and Uncle Brad.”
Jude punches Ty in the gut, forcing the hand that covers his mouth to fall off his face like a sack of potatoes.
“Fuuuuuuck you,” Ty whispers through a groan, holding his stomach for a brief moment. “That was completely uncalled-for, you dick.”
Jude just smirks, and Remy and I share a look that says, how in the hell do we share the same bloodline with these bozos?
Ty throws a punch toward Jude’s face, and it’s dodged on a hearty laugh.
“Oh, nice one, bro!” Jude shouts victoriously, bouncing on his feet and pulling his arms up in front of his face in a fighter’s crouch. “Almost had me there! Too bad you’re still slow as shit!”
“That’s it!” Ty exclaims, taking a similar stance. “I’m going to kick your ass!”
“Knock it off,” Rem whispers harshly, but when it’s apparent they’re not going to listen, observing turns to action.
Rem grabs Ty, yanking him back three steps. And I do the same with Jude, wrapping my arms around his chest in order to stop the Two Stooges’ momentum from diving into an all-out brawl in our aunt and uncle’s yard.
“You guys are loud as fuck,” Remy mutters, his voice as quiet as it can be while trying to restrain Ty the bucking bronco. “You’re going to wake up Aunt Paula and Uncle Brad.”
“Maybe Paula will make us some pancakes, though?” Jude asks, waggling his eyebrows. “I mean, I could really go for some of her cooking right about now.”
Somehow, that one statement appeases Ty. Going straight Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, his mood morphs from pissed off and ready to throw down to conciliatory and nodding in agreement.
“You know, that’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had, bro.”
“Christ,” Remy mutters, letting Ty go, and I follow suit, shoving Jude away from me.
“If you guys wake up Paula and Brad, I’ll kill you,” I say, and Jude, always the smartass, bursts into laughter.
“Says the guy who brought us here,” he tosses back. “Which, you still haven’t explained why you made that snap decision.”
I shrug and slip my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I have my reasons. Doesn’t mean you need to know them.”
“Not gonna lie, Flynn,” Ty interjects with his very much unwanted opinion. “It’s kind of lame that you brought Remy to our aunt and uncle’s lake house for his bachelor party.”
Technically speaking, I know driving an hour outside of the city to bring Remy to Greenwood Lake in the middle of the night doesn’t hit high on the wild debauchery scale of bachelor parties.
But this is exactly what we all need right now. Especially Remy.
Every summer growing up, my mom’s brother Brad and his wife Paula would rent out this lake house, and we’d spend several weeks of our break here. After our own dad left for greener pastures or some bullshit, spending time at this lake house became such a tradition that, several years ago, our aunt and uncle went ahead and bought the place. Now, every May through October, they stay here permanently, and we kids try to visit on the weekends when we can. They never had kids of their own, and with the five of us kids always spending time with them, they didn’t really need to. We were more than enough surrogate mayhem.
Hell, since our own father abandoned our mom when we were all pretty young, Uncle Brad didn’t hesitate to step up and fill the shoes of the male role model we all needed.
“So, now that we’re here, what are we going to do?” Remy asks, and I look down the sloping yard and toward the dock, my eyes stopping on our uncle’s boat. He follows my gaze, and when he realizes what I’m thinking, he chuckles. “You want to steal Uncle Brad’s boat in the middle of the night?”
Normally, I don’t condone stealing anything.
So, we’ll just call it borrowing.
And if all hell breaks loose, we always have Jude to blame.
I grin at Remy, but just before I can open my mouth to agree, someone beats me to it.
“Hey, assholes! Don’t even think about stealing my boat!”
All four of us look up and to our left and find our uncle standing on the wraparound back porch in all his nightly glory—flannel robe, flannel pants, and slippers.
Good ole Brad Robinson. Always with the perfect timing.
I swear to God, the man has a sixth sense of knowing when we kids are up to no good. Even now, with all of us being full-fledged adults, he still knows. He always knows.
“This was all Flynn’s idea,” Jude blurts out. “I am merely an innocent bystander who did not know what these bastards were trying to do. They basically kidnapped me, Uncle Brad.”
I smack Jude upside the head. “Pretty sure what he’s trying to say is that we’ve all had a bit of a rough night and needed to take a little ride on the water.”
“Bad night?” My uncle scratches his head. “Wasn’t it your bachelor party, Remington?” His gaze moves toward my eldest brother. “How in tarnation could that end in a bad night?”
“Jude did most of the planning.”
“Oh, gotcha.” My uncle bursts into several hearty chortles. “Makes sense.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jude asks, glancing around at all of us with his hands held out in a questioning gesture.
“It means you’re fucking crazy,” Ty offers, and Jude just shrugs.
“Pretty sure what you’re trying to say is I’m a fucking crazy good time.”
“No.” Ty shakes his head. “I meant you’re crazy. And not to be trusted.”
My two younger brothers revert to idiots again, staring each other down, but before another Winslow Fight Club can break out, my uncle pushes a low whistle from his lips. “If you two assholes start wrestling on my lawn and wake up your aunt, I’m getting my shotgun.”
“Whatever, Uncle B.” Jude cracks up. “Like you’d actually kill the closest things you’ve ever had to sons. Especially me. Your beautiful baby boy. The apple of your eye. Your biggest treasure in life.”
Our uncle is unfazed. “Jude, your mother brought you into this world, and she’s given me permission to take you right fucking out of it if I have to. And I think we both know that she knows just how important sleep is to your aunt Paula.”
I can’t not smile at that. Uncle Brad, everybody. The man whose years of helping our mom raise four wild boys have made it impossible for him to take any shit.