Love in the Time of Cynicism by Jani Berghuis Read Free Book Online

and a mildly hateful family waiting for me if I can bring myself to apologize on behalf of myself and Rhett. Michael will cool down after tonight and, hopefully, by tomorrow he’ll be ready to hear my groveling apology.
    Exhausted beyond belief and emotionally drained, I slog over to the still-inflated rainbow bounce castle and climb inside. The thick nylon is scratchy against my bare legs but it’s better than being outside tonight. God knows why Lightfoot pays to keep this thing up 24/7 but I’m not complaining. It’s a place to sleep, and I’m so tired that’s exactly what I do.
     
    “Jesus Christ, Del, are you serious?” I blink my eyes slowly open to blinding daylight and see my loving, caring, probably hung over brother looming above me. “What the hell are you doing in a bouncy castle at ten in the morning?”
    “I was sleeping,” I answer, my voice garbled by tiredness and what is quite possibly a fly that died and fell into my open mouth. I cough and find there’s nothing in my throat. Then I jolt upright. “Did you say ten in the morning?! Trent, I was supposed to be at work two hours ago.”
    “Actually, no,” he replies while reaching behind himself for a brown paper bag. Our of it he procures two donuts and a coffee, which, upon further inspection, happens to be a caramel macchiato. “You’ve been fired from Twin Rivers, unfortunately for them, and I’m pretty sure you’ve been excommunicated. Michael went to the board when he woke up, erm, in the grass at two in the morning. If you don’t mind me asking, was it you who beat him up or that biracial butterfly you brought along?”
    I groan loudly and take an angry bite of the donut. “Yes, Rhett beat up Michael and now I don’t know how I’m going to apologize.”
    “Real talk for a second.” Trent puts a definitely intoxicated to some degree finger on my lips and tell me, “You shouldn’t have to apologize to that bastard who knocked up our nearly menopausal mother, but I’m going to drop some truth on you.”
    “And what’s that?” I ask under his finger, than swat it away.
    He nods, feeling the wise-guru vibe like normal. “It’s not Michael you should be talking to. It’s mom. Let her in. Tell her how bad you feel and how much you want to cooperate in this new family she’s trying to put together. Tell her you’ll go shopping with her, help paint a nursery, whatever you need to do to get back in the good books. Because our mock-home is a matriarchy, dear sister, and Michael, King of Dicks, will bend to her will without a second thought. Sure, you’ll get punished, probably won’t be allowed to see that pretty boy of yours-”
    “Don’t care.”
    “Touchy much? Anyway, you’ll get grounded but it’s not like you have a social life or any friends besides that smokin’ as hell chick Sky-”
    “She’s, like, six years younger than you.”
    “Long hair, don’t care,” he laughs, waving his blond locks in my face. “Don’t sweat it too hard is all I’m saying. Let it happen and everyone’ll get over it. This too shall pass.”
    I take his advice into consideration. “Thanks, Trent. And thanks for the breakfast.”
    “Any time, sister of mine.” He stands, jumps once, and bounds out the entrance on his stomach. “Let’s get back to the abode and have a chit-chat with mom!”
     
    And so, an hour later, I’m sitting on mom’s bed with her after showering and dressing in my most mom-approved outfit (a nefarious ‘deep sea foam’ polka-dotted blouse with a pair of high-waisted shorts I stole from Amanda’s closet) and she’s eyeing me up while I think of a proper apology.
    I decide to go classic. “I’ve realized that this is a really special time for you and I want to be as supportive as possible to help you and…dad-” I choke it out and she grins, exactly as planned “-out in whatever ways I can. I’m sorry about freaking out last night. I was shocked, that’s all, and I’m really, honestly happy