Page 105 of Where I Should’ve Been

“Depends,” she says, her tone teasing and her eyelashes fluttering. “Do you know anything fun to do around here?”

Randy laughs. “Fun’s a relative term in Red Bridge. We’ve got the diner, the hardware store, one bar, and a church.”

“Sounds thrilling.” Lillian giggles and leans forward a little. I don’t miss the way her breasts push up against the table and create undeniable cleavage. Randy doesn’t miss it either. “Maybe you could take me on the grand tour and show me all the sights. I promise to act impressed.”

He scratches his jaw, uncertain but clearly flattered. “You’re serious? You want a tour of Red Bridge?”

“Yeah,” Lillian says with a cheeky little smile. “You’re hot and handsome and seem really nice. Not at all like the guys in New York.” Her eyes flick to the end of the table and then back to Randy. “I don’t see why not. I’m not seeing anyone, and I think we could have a lot of fun together.”

Randy struggles to clear his throat at the obvious flirtation, Norah rolls her eyes, and Logan, evidently, sees this as the perfect moment to lay years of repressed regret and resentment out on the table. He shoves his chair back so hard, I startle.

“You know what, Ben? I’m done!” Logan shouts. “Done begging you to hear me out, begging you to give me a chance to apologize, begging you to fucking grow up and get over yourself.”

“Ohh boy,” Tad mutters beside me, and bless him, it makes me laugh. I know things are about to get ugly between my brothers—again—but I swear if I don’t let myself find the humor in these things, I’d be crying all the time.

“Good!” Bennett fires back. “Maybe you’ll actually leave then, and I can stop pretending to enjoy eating in the freaking Arctic Circle!”

“Guys,” I hedge, panicking when tears spring to Norah’s eyes, the defeat of failing at mending their relationship again taking its toll.

“I’m telling you!” Josie shouts at Clay, standing from her chair and pointing dramatically, detracting from the ongoing sibling rivalry with spectacular flair and shocking us all. “I see something in the bush over there! See! There’s a glare!” Her chair falls as she shoves away from the table and charges away, her scream escalating. “Eileen Martin! I see you in that bush, and you’d better get out here and face me right now before I find Ben’s shotgun and start shooting!”

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Norah mutters, worried for her sister and the paycheck her bravado might not be able to cash when she catches the person she supposedly sees in the shrubs. “Ben, can you do something, please?”

Clay is already moving after her, but mere seconds later, Eileen Martin actually appears and starts walking as fast as her geriatric legs will take her. Tad, Randy, Bennett, and Logan all get up and jog in sneaky Eileen’s direction behind Josie, even chasing down the nosy old busybody when she takes off at a run. Thankfully, the men are faster than Josie and she’s several feet behind them when Tad wrestles Eileen—gently—away from the passenger door of a waiting car on Maple while Randy helps a young woman out of the driver’s side at the same time.

Norah, Lillian, Autumn, and I all watch from the front lawn while Josie catches up to them all and starts shouting threats toward Eileen.

I don’t know who the young woman at the wheel of the getaway car is, but she looks scared out of her mind as the men march the two of them back up to the house and sit them down in our recently vacated chairs at the outdoor table. Eileen looks half thrilled, but I imagine that has more to do with Tad, the object of weekly articles for as long as I’ve been reading the Red Bridge paper, holding her tightly by both arms along the way.

I understand her crush, obviously. I, myself, am currently impregnated by him.

“All right, Eileen,” Josie says, pointing an index finger directly in her face. “It’s time to put up or shut up! How in the actual hell did you know I was pregnant?”

“And me!” I interject.

“Yes, and Breezy,” Josie continues, “before we announced it! It’s a violation of privacy! An invasion! And just plain fucking wrong!”

“Fu-ck!” Autumn yells, making Norah sigh. All of us have been horrible influences on our sweet toddler girl lately, but not even Norah dares to interrupt her sister to chastise her for language right now.

Tears are in Josie’s eyes, and she’s genuinely upset. With everything she’s been through—with her history with pregnancy and loss—this isn’t the cute little spoiler story Eileen seems to think it is.

Not to mention, this is so far from the first time Eileen’s written an inappropriate article about a member of our family, it’s not even funny. From following Bennett and Norah’s every move while they were dealing with Norah’s ex, to invasive pieces into Josie and Clay’s history and heartache, to weekly fluff articles on Tad, and declarations of a threesome for me, Eileen’s been pushing this group toward a hostile response for a long time.

“I want to know how you knew, and I want to know right now!” Josie demands. Clay holds her arms gently at her sides, but I have a sneaking suspicion that if he weren’t, Josie would have one of Norah’s butter knives to Eileen’s slender throat.

“I’ll never reveal my sources!” the crazy woman declares, somewhat unwisely.

“That’s it. Someone’d better call Pete and tell him this murder I’m about to commit is one hundred percent premeditated!” Josie screams, her body thrashing in Clay’s hold so much, Tad steps closer to back him up.

“We went through your trash!” the accomplice admits, the pressure too much to bear as the volume of the entire group escalates. “I’m so sorry, and I didn’t think it was a good idea, but Aunt Eileen insisted!”

“Aunt Eileen?” Josie questions.

“Dammit, Millie!” Eileen screeches.

“I’m sorry,” Millie cries. “But I’m not cut out for this kind of journalism!”

“Yeah,” Josie says sarcastically. “Theft, breaking and entering, spying in the bushes—it’s not for everyone!”