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Courtland attended Colt and Ryland’s high school graduation like any of the other moms and dads in the crowd.
He had signs for both brothers with their faces printed on them. He had leis for them, blue for Colt and yellow for Ry, along with similarly colored beaded necklaces. When shopping for graduation gifts, Courtland almost bought a damn megaphone so he could really project his voice, but he figured the twins wouldn’t appreciate it. Doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to shout as loud as he could when their names were called. Hell, he even brought a damn cowbell.
He sat in the school’s football stands. The graduates were filing in. Luckily, the school the twins attended didn’t have too large of a graduating class—probably 300 kids in total—so the ceremony wouldn’t take too long. Courtland stood on his tiptoes as he scanned the graduates. The twins shouldn’t be hard to miss but with the other parents and family members flailing their hands, he couldn’t see too well.
Finally, he saw the twins walking on the field. Colt was jumping up and down, waving his arms with a broad smile. Beside him, Ryland was waving, too, his smile equally as bright. Courtland raised the cowbell and went wild, much to the amusement of some of the parents around him.
The ceremony was kind of boring, in Courtland’s opinion. Ryland had been called up to stand with the top ten of his class (he was number three), and Courtland made sure the video camera he held captured every moment he stood up on that stage. The valedictorian spoke and then the principal, telling the graduates how far they’ve come and how proud everyone is and—this is shit they already know!
Then, names were being called.
Courtland sat through the alphabet in agony. Even though there weren’t many students, he could tell his brothers were feeling antsy, too. They were sitting near the middle of the rows of chairs on the football field, and Courtland stood when their row was prompted to form a line. He raised the camera and zoomed on the twins, who gave each other a fist bump as they stood in line, receiving alumni pins.
“Those two right there are gonna do great things,” Courtland muttered to the camera. “Ry’s already been accepted to college for molecular biology on a full ride scholarship. Colt managed to snag a good gig in the film industry as a call-in stuntman. Still not sure how that works, but he loves it. I’m excited to see what they do after they walk across that stage.”
Courtland’s heart raced with pure joy as the announcer finally got to the letter G.
“Carlos Gabo. Serena Gallerina,” the announcer listed, stopping in between each name for a few seconds for each graduate to receive their well deserved applause. Courtland got his signs ready when he saw Colt and Ry were next. “Colton and Ryland Gentry, Ryland Gentry high honors.”
“YEAHHH THOSE ARE MY BROTHERS!!!!” Courtland shouted as he raised the sign. His voice carried down to the field as he watched the twins shake their principal’s hand, receiving their diplomas. They caught sight of him and smiled even wider. The parents around him seemed slightly annoyed but amused as he raised both signs in the air. “GO COLT! GO RY! WOOOOOO! THOSE ARE MY BROTHERS!!!”
He even rang the cowbell for a few seconds. He could see the twins walking off the stage to get their picture taken. Courtland made sure the camera got it all as he watched them go. His heart squeezed at the sight.
He remembered when they were born. He remembered walking into their mother’s hospital room to see her holding two bundles in each of her arms, smiling at them with such love. She beckoned him over to meet them even if they wouldn’t remember. Courtland laid eyes on them and knew even at seven years old that he would do anything for them. He got to hold Colt after his mother’s arm got tired. He remembered holding the baby in the blue blanket who slept soundly. He remembered his heart soaring into the sky, an uncontrollable smile on his face because that was his brother. And Colt wiggled a tad bit but snuggled closer to Courtland in his sleep.
Ryland didn’t know what to think of him when he held him for the first time. He looked happy, but then he started crying and Courtland was horrified that he’d done something wrong. He felt even worse once Colt started crying, too. He watched their mother roll her eyes and gesture for him to hand Ryland back over. Once Ryland and Colt were placed beside each other, they immediately calmed down.
He was there for everything. The first time their eyes opened, the first time they came home, the first time they crawled, when they found out what dessert was (God help him did the twins become menaces for sweets). The most impactful ones to Courtland were their first steps and words. Colt walked first. He was a stubborn baby just as much as he is now. He kept trying to stand on his own even if his little legs couldn’t fully support him yet. Still, he eventually managed to stand using the legs of the crib as a support. Courtland watched, amazed as Colt let go of the crib and took a small step.
A step towards him. Not their parents who were on the other side of the room cleaning up toys. Him. Courtland couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe because his little brother was giggling as he waddled to him. Courtland caught him just before he fell, laughing in disbelief and hugging his giddy brother. At the same time, Ryland was frowning because Colt was suddenly far away from him. Courtland let Colt sit in his lap and let his icky baby fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, his gaze finding yet another stubborn baby trying to stand.
Colt walked first, and Ryland a few hours after him. Despite Colt not understanding the world in full yet, he was smart enough to realize that Ryland was only standing when he was far away from him. So what did Colt do? He would go play with Ryland and then suddenly crawl or walk away to Courtland. Then, Ryland would pitch a small fit and pout, and Colt would just babble in baby talk that Courtland didn’t understand. Ryland did, though, and it eventually led to him following in his brother’s footsteps. Their mom had witnessed Ryland’s first steps towards his brothers and cried.
The first words were a similar story. Courtland was watching the twins while their mom was out grocery shopping for the week. He was in the living room, playing toy cars with them and making weird car noises to make them laugh. Ryland was the first one to speak. It started out sounding like grunts of exertion as he pushed his tiny body to race Colt’s toy car, but then something happened. Courtland had been reading to the twins every night since they were born, always pointing to things and trying to see how fast he could teach them words. He sometimes even addressed himself by his name to the twins, like saying “Courtland’s gonna get you a blanket” or something like that, just so they would know who he was.
The effort paid off for baby Ryland.
“Cour!” he babbled with a laugh, reaching his hands to touch Courtland’s face. “Cour!”
Courtland stared into Ryland’s bright, inquisitive blue eyes as the baby’s hands mapped his face. What Courtland didn’t understand was why his name was Ryland’s first words, because the twins spent equal amounts of time with him as they did with their mother, so why not mama? Why him?
Courtland wouldn’t have been able to describe the feeling he had in that moment, especially not at such a young age. Even now, watching them sit back down with their diplomas in hand, he didn’t know how to describe it. As cheesy as the principal’s speech was about parents and teachers being proud, she was right. Courtland couldn’t believe his eyes, seeing the twins move their tassels and smirk at each other as they tossed their caps in the air, getting lost in a sea of purple in the sky. He definitely wasn’t crying, thank you very much concerned mother on his right. He totally wasn’t sobbing.
After totally not crying in the stands, he rushed down to the football field, the cowbell dinging with every other step on his beltloop. He tucked the signs under his armpit and raised the camera as he gained sight of the twins. The twins noticed him and came running, barreling into him and nearly knocking him over.
“There are my graduates! You guys did so good, I’m so proud of you,” Courtland said as the twins pulled away and oh, no, he wasn’t crying again looking into the eyes of his grown up brothers. Where the fuck did the time go? He swore they were still two years old running around the house and causing havoc. He put the respective leis over their necks along with the beads. “Here, get together, lemme get some pictures.”
“Court…” Colt whined.
Ryland just tossed his arm around Colt’s shoulder, smiling wide and flashing the camera a peace sign. Colt rolled his eyes but copied his brother’s pose. As Courtland took pictures, Colt’s eyes alighted with mischief. He trapped Ryland’s head in his arm and brought his knuckles down on Ryland’s scalp.
“Hey! No, not fair! Stop it!” Ryland protested as he tried to pry Colt’s arm off of him.
“What’cha gonna do about it, Ry? Huh?”
Courtland rolled his eyes as the twins started mock fighting each other. He turned the camera to his face. “Why am I proud of these guys again?” he said to the lens. He huffed, shaking his head as he turned the camera back to the twins. “Who’s hungry?”
That got their attention really quick. Colt shoved Ryland backwards and started walking alongside Courtland, heading right for the parking lot. Ryland muttered something under his breath Courtland didn’t catch and caught up with a slight jog. Ryland reached for the signs he still had tucked underneath his armpit. He studied the enlarged picture of Colt staring back at him. In the picture, Colt was probably fourteen with slight acne and a bad haircut, eyes deadpan. Ryland laughed and showed Colt, who took it from him.
“What the—Court! This is a horrible picture!”
“It’s cute,” he defended with a grin.
“Wha—lemme see yours, Ry.”
Ryland turned his poster with a grin. “I’d say you picked a pretty good one for me.”
In his picture, he was wearing safety goggles. His hair was rustled and parts of his shirt were burnt. He’d tried some sort of science experiment in the house which led to a small explosion. He was staring at the camera with defeat.
Colt snatched the poster. “This is so much better than mine! Clearly you have favorites.”
“I think you’re being dramatic. A bad haircut doesn’t define your personality,” Ryland said.
“At least you look somewhat normal.”
“That isn’t normal. Look, I’m wearing burnt clothes.”
“What do we want for dinner, guys?” Courtland finally butted in after relishing in the banter.
“I want a burger,” Colt said.
“Double cheeseburger…” Ryland said dreamily.
“I can make that happen.”
The brothers piled into Courtland’s Honda CRV and sat through fifteen minutes of graduation traffic (much better than Courtland expected). The town they lived in had a few sports bars, but the twins liked this mom and pop shop that looked like it was pulled straight out of the forties. Checkered tile floors, old futuristic type stuff. They even had a jukebox that the owner said he’d thrifted a long while ago and was one of the reasons why he and his wife started up their business.
Courtland and the twins had been going to the diner for years. The couple that owned the place knew them by name, knew their car and always started their usual order by the time they walked in the door. Courtland didn’t know what warranted them to do such lovely things for them, but he appreciated it, especially with how excited the twins were that they were skipping to the door with the neon sign saying open.
The bell above the door dinged. The diner was slightly busier than usual thanks to graduation. Courtland spotted a few kids wearing their gowns still, sipping on soda and sharing laughs with their friends. Their usual booth by the jukebox was open.
“Are those my favorite brothers?” the man who owned the shop said from behind the register. His eyes bulged seeing the twins in their gowns. “Wait—what the? You two graduated?! What the hell?”
“That’s what I said,” Courtland snickered.
The man came from behind the counter to get a better look at the twins. His name was Bryan. He’d almost become like a father figure to the brothers over the years, helping them with questions that pertained to home repair or finances. He probably remembered when the twins were as tall as Courtland’s elbow, and now they were as tall as him.
Bryan laughed a deep belly laugh and clapped the boys on the shoulders. “Order whatever you want. On me.”
The twins’ eyes lit up, but Courtland stepped in.
“I can’t accept that, Bryan—” he tried.
“Don’t do that shit with me,” Bryan said sternly, though his eyes were sparkling with pride. “You only graduate high school once, though I think you’ll be attending a college graduation soon with the genius you’ve got over there. Let me do this for you guys, Court. You deserve it.”
The twins had sat down in the booth side by side, leaving Court to talk to Bryan as they looked at the menu they had memorized for years as if it’d changed at all, pointing at some things and discussing in whispers. Courtland was once again rendered speechless, blinking back grateful tears.
Bryan’s hand rested on his shoulder, lowering his voice so the twins couldn’t hear. “You deserve somethin’, too. You did a damn good job raising them two.”
“I—”
“On me. Whatever you want. It’s the least you deserve. They did great and so did you. I’m proud of you three.”
Bryan squeezed his shoulder as Courtland sniffled, quickly wiping his eyes. All the feelings he'd been pushing back due to work and stress had started to slip through the cracks. He was afraid he'd break right there in the diner but he luckily managed to compose himself.
“Thank you,” he managed.
“Don’t thank me, kid. You did all the work. Hey, Poppy, come see the Gentry kiddos!”
“Gentry?!” came a shrill voice from the kitchen. The swinging doors burst open, revealing a lanky woman with red hair the same shade as a poppy. She gasped as her eyes fluttered from the twins to Courtland. “Oh my God! Look at you three! C’mere, gimme a hug!”
The twins reached her first, enveloping her in a gentle and warm embrace as she laughed.
“Congrats, grads! And you, Courtland, ugh, you’re still so cute,” Poppy said as she pinched Courtland’s cheeks.
“We all basically share a face. I’m not cute?” Colt said jokingly.
“Not with that attitude, you aren’t. We’ll go ahead and ring in your usual, yeah?”
“Actually,” Ryland said, taking the menu from the table. “We’re adding a few things.”
“As you should on this special occasion. Sit, come on, sit down! What do you want?” Poppy asked as she opened her notepad and clicked her pen.
“So, we’re gonna do our usual, but can we make them double patties instead?”
“Anything for you, hon. Fries or chips?”
“Chips for me, please,” Colt said.
“Fries are good for me,” Ryland replied. “And we’re both gonna have a vanilla milkshake.”
“And what about you, Courtland, do you want anything special?”
Colt and Ryland gave him a warning look as if saying you’re getting something special whether you like it or not. Whatever. It was their night. Whatever they wanted.
“I’ll do my usual and a chocolate shake, please,” he said with a small smile.
Poppy smiled wide. “This is so exciting! I’ll go ahead and get you kids some water while you wait.”
“Can we have a pitcher, please? I’m thirsty,” Colt said as she retreated behind the counter.
Courtland snickered, glancing out the window. Life hadn’t been easy for any of them leading up to this night. It was one struggle after another. For Courtland, it was always something about bills or a leaky pipe or changing the air filter in the car. He managed to scrape by on house payments and groceries for years, but outside of that, the rest of his money went to the twins and their aspirations. Colt had gotten a job in secret, claiming he’d actually joined a chess club that met from 4PM to 9:30PM on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. It wasn’t a secret for long.
Courtland appreciated the help greatly, but at the same time he wished Colt would go do normal teenage things. He wished Colt would go hang out with his friends or go to a party (responsibly), or actually join a club, not spend his nights working as a grocery store stocker. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the job whatsoever. Courtland was proud Colt had gotten a job but at the same time, he wanted Colt to do things Courtland never had the opportunity to do.
He looked back at his brothers, finding them engaged in yet another useless argument that they’d forget about in ten minutes. Little did the twins know that he had a secret of his own. After Poppy dropped off their waters (and a pitcher for Colt), Courtland cleared his throat nervously. The twins shared a look at that. Courtland didn’t get nervous.
“I um… like I said earlier, I’m so proud of you two and all that you’ve accomplished so far in your lives. Your stunt work is so cool to watch, Colt, and I think you’re really gonna go far with that. I don’t really understand what you find so interesting about cells and shit, but I’m proud of you and your full ride scholarship, Ry. Tonight is one of those nights that makes me realize you don’t have much time left before you're a real adult living in the world. So, with that being said, when we get home you’re both packing bags.”
Colt and Ry shared another look, this time it was one full of worry and a twinge of fear. Uh oh. Why were they scared?
“Pack our bags?” Ryland said, confused.
“What do you mean by that? Are you kicking us out?” Colt said hurriedly, palms sprawled on the table.
“Kicking—whar?! No! No no no, I’m not kicking you out!” Courtland said incredulously. “Okay, I probably said that wrong. I meant to pack a bag because we’re going on vacation.”
All fear retreated from the twins’ eyes and filled with excitement and curiosity. They hadn’t been on a vacation before. There was never time or funding to go somewhere. Courtland was always working and trying his best to give his brothers the lives they deserved, which meant no family vacations. The closest thing they'd get to a vacation is running through the backyard with sprinklers spraying them with water. It was simple but fun.
Except what they didn’t know was that Courtland had been taking up more hours to save up for this trip, and luckily, he wouldn’t have to pay for them to stay anywhere.
“Where are we going?” Colt asked excitedly.
“You probably don’t remember him, but we have an uncle who lives out in California. We’re gonna go stay by the coast for a week and a half,” Courtland grinned, seeing his brother's faces light up even more.
“California?!” Ryland exclaimed. “The beach!”
“Yup.”
“Are we driving or flying?”
“Driving.”
“Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but who’s our uncle? Are we gonna be staying with him?” Colt questioned.
Their conversation paused as their food arrived with a smile from Poppy and a promise that their milkshakes were on the way. Colt didn’t waste a second before digging into his burger, which was still steaming. Ryland was right beside him, too, though Courtland knew he’d wait to eat his fries until his milkshake came out.
“His name is Holland March. He’s our mother’s brother,” Courtland explained. “I’ve met him a few times but you guys probably haven’t. He’s a detective in LA and he also has a daughter, Holly. When I called him, he was surprised to hear from me, but he was happy to extend the invite to stay with him.”
“A detective…” Ryland said, his burger already halfway gone. “What kind of cases does he solve?”
“Um…”
How do you explain that your uncle solves crimes involving porn stars?
“Just… bad ones. Murder,” he settled on saying.
“Yeesh. Must be rough,” Colt said as he took the last bite of his burger. How were they eating so fast?
“Here you boys go,” Poppy said as she returned with their milkshakes. “Geez, y’all were hungry, huh?”
“Yeah, he starves us,” Colt joked as he jabbed his thumb to Courtland.
Courtland kicked his leg under the table only to earn a kick back. Poppy just shook her head fondly and walked away.
“You’re lucky I love you or else you would be on the streets right now,” Courtland said.
“No I wouldn’t.”
“So when do we leave?” Ryland brought them back on topic as he dipped a fry in his milkshake. He didn’t complain when Courtland dipped one of his fries in his shake.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah, bro. It’s summer and you’re free from school. It’s vacation time.”
“How long's the drive?” Colt said.
“About twelve hours.”
Ryland smiled as he dipped another fry in his milkshake. “Thank you, Court, this is amazing! I'm excited.”
“Just make sure you pack the right clothes. It's gonna be hot,” Courtland warned.
Getting home was arguably the most amusing part of the night. The twins stepped one foot in the house and ran to their room to start packing. Courtland simply chuckled and closed the door behind him, preparing himself for a twelve hour drive. He had some food to make before going to sleep. They couldn't stop too much on the road to save time and money, so he got to work making sandwiches and ensuring the cooler he bought a few weeks ago was ready to go for tomorrow morning.
He could hear the twins talking excitedly down the hall. He smiled to himself. They deserved the break.
Holland March had a sister.
They were close all throughout their lives, much to their parents’ surprise. Of course, Holland grew up and became kind of a dickhead but what brother wasn’t a bit of an asshole to his siblings? He always cared for his sister and she knew it.
He never liked her boyfriend who eventually became her husband. He had a feeling about him—call it his detective intuition—and he didn’t want to be right because the guy was charismatic and nice but he knew all about how looks could be deceiving. He just didn't want to see his sister getting hurt.
News of her first child being born reached him a little later than expected. By the time Holland knew, his nephew was nearly a year old. He doesn’t blame her for not telling him since she's been busy with a baby, but still. He would've liked to know.
He made time to visit her a year and a half after his nephew was born. Holland ignored his brother-in-law and went straight for his sister, who was sitting in a rocking chair watching her baby play around with little wooden blocks. He gave her a hug.
“It’s good to see you, Holland,” she said with a smile. “Come meet your nephew!”
She stood up and sat on the floor beside her son. She picked him up and peppered his face with kisses. March sat on the floor across from her.
“Courtland, look. It's your Uncle Holland,” she cooed, turning her son to look at him.
And oh boy did Courtland have his mom's eyes. He smiled brightly, babbling and flinging his arm, his hand still clutching a wooden cube.
“Where'd the name come from? It's interesting,” Holland said.
“I dunno. It came to me in a dream.”
“Well, hi Courtland.”
He waved. The baby giggled.
“Do you wanna hold him?”
“I'd love to.”
He held his nephew, who continued to shriek and giggle, especially when Holland tickled his stomach. It was so strange. He was holding a part of his sister, his family. Not to sound weird, but his nephew captivated him. Holland and his wife had been talking about children and both were pretty on board with the idea, but they were still sorting out finances since both of their jobs weren’t too high paying. Thoughts of who would watch the baby while parents were at work and how much baby food would cost on top of a babysitter and yadda yadda. Those kinds of things held them back and for good reason.
“Ba!” Courtland laughed, his tiny hand closing around Holland’s nose.
“He likes booping people in his own way,” his sister smiled.
“More like assault. He’s a killer,” Holland snickered, holding his nephew in front of him to look at his eyes again. The baby squeezed Holland’s nose like you would a clown’s. “No motive, but it seems he’s fixed on asphyxiation.”
“No big detective words around my son.”
Holland visited his nephew and sister a few times after the initial meeting—when Courtland was four, when he was seven years old and the twins came along, and when their father was arrested. Holland visited for a few weeks at a time to both spend time with his sister and nephew and to help alleviate some of the responsibilities on his sister’s shoulders. It wasn’t easy having three boys running around her house, and Holland needed to burn some energy, so why not chase his nephew around while the twins slept upstairs?
And then his daughter came along, his bundle of joy, and his wife passed away. He felt so alone trying to take care of his little girl. He was trying his damn best but it never felt like enough, especially when he told himself he wouldn’t visit the liquor aisle at the store and ended up walking out with three new bottles that would be gone in days. She was a stubborn baby and it meant many sleepless nights of her crying herself to sleep with Holland leaning against her crib, trying to soothe her and failing and wondering if it would’ve been better if he died instead of his wife. Maybe she could’ve succeeded where he failed tremendously day by day.
But, as always in his family, he persevered. Until his sister died.
It was unexpected, and he suspected her husband first as any law enforcement would, but the motherfucker was clean. Except, when he got arrested for a DUI, Holland was called to be informed that the Gentry brothers would need someone to stay with and his sister had listed him as emergency contact. Courtland was fifteen and the twins were around seven or eight years old at the time, and Holland wouldn’t say no to having family over even if he wasn’t prepared for it at all.
But then Courtland, ever the stubborn kid, managed to get himself emancipated and custody of the twins. Holland helped him out when he could, but the kid moved himself and his brothers two states over from California. As much as Holland wanted to drive back and forth to check on them, he had his own daughter to care for and (as much as he hated it) himself and their home. He needed money to feed them and keep his house, so work it was, though he always made sure to call Courtland at least once every week to make sure everything was okay. Holland didn’t know if he’d tell the twins about his calls or not, but he always ended his calls with “love you kiddos” regardless if the twins remembered him or not.
Which led him to today, the day his nephews (all three of them) were coming to stay for a week and a half. Holland had gotten a late start to the day thanks to the bender he went on the night before. He wasn’t upholding much of his deal to take care of his daughter, let alone himself. Sometimes he didn’t even know why he drank. It was just routine, much like smoking. It was comfort in a bottle that he needed in a life where the only people he cares about seem to slip through his fingers without him noticing until it's too late.
When he realized he’d slept in by three hours, he cursed, haphazardly threw on a pair of jeans and a striped shirt that didn’t match at all over his white tank top. He ran into the kitchen, his daughter already gone for the day for school. Responsible kid. He didn’t know how he got so lucky to have a girl like her to be his daughter.
“Shit! I forgot to tell her…” he muttered to himself as he splashed water in his face. “Okay. Game time.”
He vacuumed the house, wiped down every wipeable surface, made sure the fridge didn’t look like a liquor store shelf, and tidied up the things he’d neglected to do for weeks now. Like fix the clock from its crooked position on the wall. Hell, he even dusted the place because number one, he didn’t want his nephews to think he was a total hog living in a cave (even though he wasn’t too far off from that description), and two because he didn’t know whether or not the twins had any sort of allergies. His sister had mentioned that Colt got sick pretty easily, and while the change in temperatures may affect him, he didn’t want his house to be the reason why Colt got sick. If it even worked that way.
Courtland had mentioned the trip would be a reward to the twins for graduating high school, so Holland did a little bit of shopping the day before. He’d gotten a pack of balloons and some streamers with “Congrats Grad!” written on triangles. He grabbed some tape and a stepstool to hang up the garland in the entryway. After that, he took deep breaths and blew up the balloons with great difficulty. Maybe he should take Healy’s advice and quit the cigs.
Speak of the man and he appears. Holland was so focused on layering the tape on the garland that he didn’t notice the man entered the house until the door shut behind him. He certainly did not yelp and nearly fell off the stepstool, thank you.
“What the hell’s all this? Graduate? Holly’s got at least seven more years before that,” the man said.
Holland risked a glance back. The Nice Guys agency was doing pretty well, surprisingly. People liked the ad more than they liked the men behind the ad, but business was business. Jackson had plastic bags in his hands. He moved into the kitchen, kicking up a couple of balloons as he went.
“It’s not for her, it’s for my nephews.”
“Nephews? You’ve got nephews?”
“Yeah. Did I not tell you? Must’ve slipped my mind.”
“You’ve been doin’ a lot of that recently,” Jackson commented.
Holland sent him a death glare. “Fuck you. They’re gonna be here in… dammit! They’re gonna be here in, like, an hour and I haven’t gotten food!”
“We can order in. What do they like?”
“I dunno! I don’t even know what kind of allergies they have, if they have any.”
Jackson unpackaged groceries with a raised brow. He paused. “You don’t know if they’re allergic to anything?”
Holland huffed, slapping the wall with the tape and hoping it would stick until his nephews arrived. He got off the stepstool and leaned against the counter, resting his forehead on his hand. “Not my fault I haven’t seen them in years. They’re my sister’s kids but I had my own kid to take care of and provide for. And Courtland never had time to come visit because he’s in the same boat I’m in.”
“Wait, twins? How many nephews are there?”
“Three. Keep up.”
“And this Courtland person is—”
“The oldest of the three.”
Jackson looked like he had plenty more questions to ask, so Holland walked around to sit at the dining table to watch the man put away the groceries like he lived there. He practically did.
“My sister died when Courtland was… fourteen, I think. Their dad didn’t take it well and found comfort in Jim Beam, and… the evidence was on the twins and Court every day. Bastard only got put away when he got arrested for a DUI and when the cops investigated, they found the kids with his rampage recorded in bruises on their skin.”
Kids were a rough subject for the two of them, especially after the whole fiasco with Misty Mountains and his daughter getting involved in the case. He’d been terrified whenever he couldn’t see his daughter by his side or where he last left her. Damn her, she was stubborn, but she helped them close the case. He made her promise to never do it again lest he have a heart attack in the field. She obliged but Holland could tell she didn’t really mean it. Just like her old man.
Jackson closed the fridge with a little more force than necessary. “And what of the kids?”
“I took them in for a bit. I dunno if they remember. But Court’s stubborn. I wasn’t in the best place to care for four kids and myself and he knew it, so he got a job, saved up a bunch of money after dropping out of school, and got himself emancipated. He took his brothers two states away to start over, but he still kept in touch over the years.”
“Strong kid.”
“Yeah. Like his mom.” Holland stared at the stain in the center of the table. A ring he’d never been able to get out of the wood no matter what tricks he tried. He covered it with a candle from the counter. “So now they’re coming to visit because the twins graduated high school yesterday and I’m just… I dunno.”
Jackson took the ashtray from the counter and dumped the remains in the trash. He gave Holland a pointed look and put the ashtray on top of the fridge. “I think your family would appreciate it if you lay off the smokes and spirits for the week and a half they’re here.”
The man didn’t know Holland had promised himself to remain sober for his nephews before the idea was brought up, but he just played along and nodded. It was going to be a tough week for him to not stare down his lighter or the secret bottle of vodka under his bed.
“So, food. Everyone likes pizza, right? Just get some from downtown.”
“With how fucking awful traffic is in this goddamn city, it’ll take me two damn hours to get some,” Holland complained. “You think it’ll be quicker if we order for delivery?”
Jackson shrugged. “Your call.”
He ordered the pizza for delivery. Afterwards, it was waiting on the couch with his leg bouncing and fingers itching for a cigarette that wasn’t in his pocket anymore (damn you, Healy). He paced the length of the living room. He was going insane sitting in the silence just waiting. He folded the blanket on the back of the couch three times over before he cursed and kicked the leg of the coffee table. Fuck, he needed a drink.
Nope, no. You made a promise to yourself, and while you break them pretty damn easily, you can’t screw this one up. The voice in his head sounded oddly familiar to his late sister, as if she were crawling from the afterlife to possess him for a moment. A surge of guilt passed through him only for a moment. He had made the same promise to himself so many times over the years that it felt hollow, just something he said to make himself feel better about what a shitty person he was to his kid. The problem was that he was actually going to be making a bigger effort to hold himself to that promise for his nephews. It made him question where the hell that effort came from when he had made the same promise for his daughter (only to go back on it after a few hours of being sober).
Holland’s lips twitched, itching for the nicotine to kill more of his lungs. Call it a sixth sense for his cigs and alcohol, but he could tell Jackson had swept the house and confiscated his stash. “Fuck.”
“Stop being such a bitch, you’ll be fine,” Jackson said as he sat in the armchair across from Holland. With how often the man stayed over, it was practically his bed. The blanket on the back of the chair proved it because Holland refused to own something so tacky. He hated zebra print.
“Asshole.”
“You’re gonna have to check yourself with that language.”
“I’m checking myself for every fuckin’ thing, give me a break.”
Easy for Jackson to say. The man relapsed into alcoholism for a month and then pushed himself to be better. Holland truly didn’t know how he did it. He couldn’t imagine waking up like a normal person without a raging headache and remnants of Jack Daniels coating his lips, the drag of nicotine stuck like fog in his lungs. Did he hate being so dependent on those two things? Sometimes. He hated it when he could see through drunken eyes how disappointed Holly was. He loved it when thoughts of a fire and his dead wife were nowhere within grasp.
He wished he could get better but he couldn’t handle the waves of grief that awaited him on the other side of the wall. Self-sabotage was the only thing he was good at.
Before Jackson could spew words that matched his disapproving face, the ring of the doorbell echoed in the foyer. LA was a crockpot of heat, swamp ass, and smog, and while he always had the AC cranked in his house, he was sweating profusely. He made a mental note to not raise his arms too high.
“Okay… okay, fuck me,” Holland whispered to himself as he got to his feet. He could feel Jackson’s eyes boring into the back of his head. He flipped him the finger and started towards the front door.
His only living family aside from Holly. The remnants of his sister. He could do this. A week and a half. From the moment the door opened, he wouldn’t be the drunken, scaredy-cat detective. Maybe their visit would bring new, better habits into his lifestyle like Jackson had been trying to recruit him for months now.
The doorbell rang again. He blinked, realizing his hand was closed on the doorknob but he hadn’t moved.
Get a hold of yourself.
Holland twisted the knob and opened the door, temporarily being blinded by the bright, sunny skies of LA. Once his eyes adjusted, he was met with three figures in the doorway. Tall figures, around the same height as him. Courtland stood at the front of the trio. He didn’t look much different from the last time Holland saw him, except now he had a frankly majestic goatee and the tired eyes of a man who’d just driven a little over twelve hours with LA traffic. Behind him, the twins stood on either side of him. He could see the excitement in their eyes, subtle, overshadowed by a twinge of uncertainty as their gazes landed on him. They looked… well, identical, as promised, except he knew Ryland wore glasses. That, and Colt had a bit of a sharper look in his eyes as he assessed Holland.
Holland glanced down at himself. The striped overshirt he wore was wrinkled and half tucked half untucked into his jeans. He shook it off to smile warmly at his nephews.
“Hey guys,” he started, “it’s good to see you.”
Courtland returned the smile, though exhausted. “Same here.”
“Come on in, come on in.”
The twins sighed as they entered the house. Holland held back an amused chuckle because even standing in the doorway, he could feel the unbearable LA heat beating down on the concrete outside. It was like a haze that you couldn’t escape. He watched their eyes scan the balloons on the floor and the garland.
“Congrats on graduation. That’s a big deal,” Holland complimented.
“Thank you,” Ryland said with a small smile. A little shy but appreciative.
“I’ve got you guys set up in the guest room down the hall,” Holland said as he led the brothers down to the bedroom.
He’d tried his best. The room originally had a twin size bed, which Holland knew wouldn’t fit grown teenagers. He’d been meaning to buy a new mattress anyway, so he splurged a bit and got a full size bed. Except he didn’t think too far and didn’t have a frame for it yet, so it sat on the floor below the window adjacent to the twin bed. He had an old fan plugged into the corner of the room, whirring as it pushed past its limits. The room had a dresser to the left as soon as you walked in, but other than that and the bed, there weren’t any other pieces of furniture.
He suddenly felt a little embarrassed as the brothers entered the room. God, he was such a horrible host. He was horrible at everything.
“Sorry it’s not much. We don’t have but three bedrooms here, so…”
“It’s great, Uncle Holland. Thank you,” Courtland said as he let his suitcase flop on the floor.
“I’m just happy to be far away from that school,” Colt sighed, looking out of the window.
Ryland’s stomach suddenly groaned. He put his hand over his stomach as his face flushed. Colt snickered at him, earning a slap on the arm from Ryland.
“I’ve got some pizza on the way. Dunno when it’ll be here ‘cause in case you haven’t seen it already, the traffic here sucks ass, but it should be here soon. You guys want some water or anything?” Holland asked. He barely knew how to take care of himself and his daughter. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. He just wished Ryland would stop looking at him like he was gonna shoot him.
“Yeah, sure,” Courtland said for the three of them, following Holland back down the hall.
Holland entered the kitchen, thankful that for once he’d hustled to clean. He watched the kids sit at the small dining table as he took three glasses from the cabinet and filled them with ice. He could hear them muttering to each other, and once again, Holland’s fingers itched for a cigarette. He shoved the consuming thoughts of nicotine away and filled the glasses with water, somehow managing to carry all three to the table without dropping one.
“Thanks,” Colt said. He was very laid back, almost like he was playing a character. Teenagers.
“No problem. So… um, what’s been goin’ on?” Holland asked as he took the last seat at the table.
God, Courtland really did have his mother’s eyes. So did the twins to a certain degree. It depended on the lighting.
“Just the usual. Work, graduation,” Courtland shrugged.
“What do you do for work?”
“Couple of odd jobs here and there. Got into trades.”
“Jack of all trades?”
“Kinda.”
Holland glanced at the twins. “So what about you guys? Any plans now that you’re free from education?”
“I’ve been into stunt work,” Colt said with a proud smirk.
“Stunt work? Oh hell yeah, dude. There’s a lot of need for stuntmen in LA. You’ll probably always be able to find work around here. What about you, Ryland?”
Ryland silently tapped his fingers on his glass. The condensation ran down the side of the glass and seeped into the table. “Um. I’m going to study molecular biology.”
The words went in one ear and out the other. Holland didn’t have the biggest vocabulary and it showed. He just smiled and nodded instead of asking what the fuck Ryland meant.
“That’s cool. You know what you’re gonna do with that degree?”
Ryland shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Eh, you’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. You’re young.”
Colt took a sip of water and leaned forward. “Courtland says you’re a detective.”
A question, a statement. Intrigued. Colt was definitely the more blunt of the two of them. Holland nodded with approval.
“Yup,” he said.
“What kind of cases do you get?”
At that, Courtland gave Holland a little shake of his head. Okay, whatever he said. Holland refused to get in the bad graces of his distant family. Still family, but he'd never forgive himself if he fucked up his relationship with his nephews.
“Eh, nothing too special. Spouses wondering if their spouses are cheating, lost kitties, that kind of stuff. The perks of owning your own agency.”
Courtland's hard gaze turned curious. “Wait, you're not with LAPD anymore?”
“Nah. They're arguably the most hated cops in the States.” He elected not to mention his fall from grace. “But yeah. The Nice Guys Agency.”
“Guys, plural?” Ryland asked with a raised brow.
At that exact moment, Jackson emerged from the living room with the daily paper tucked under his elbow and his reading glasses propped on his hairline. He didn't look at the brothers as he reached for a Yoo-Hoo from the fridge.
“You gonna pay for them, Healy?” Holland said as he leaned back dangerously in his chair.
Jackson gave him a half-assed glare before realizing all eyes were on him. He leaned against the counter, setting the paper down to twist the cap off his beverage. “Fellas,” he nodded.
“This is my partner, Jackson Healy. He's the other Nice Guy,” Holland said with an eyeroll. “Healy, my nephews: Courtland, Ryland, and Colt.”
Courtland eyed Jackson suspiciously, as if calculating his beefy stature into categories of safe and not safe. Holland couldn't blame him. Even after a few months of their partnership, Jackson remained the kind of guy who looked like he'd snap your neck if you looked at him wrong. It was almost comedic for Holland, then, to come home and see the man sitting at the dinner table helping Holly with homework. Never did Holland think he'd find that sort of domesticity in a man who easily snapped his arm in half.
The twins seemed even more intrigued by Jackson's appearance and standoffish nature. What was it with younger people and Jackson's weird tuff guy act? Why did they like it so much? First Holly, now the twins?
“Good to meet you,” Courtland finally broke the silence by offering Jackson his hand, which the man gladly shook.
“Same here. Just graduated high school, or so I've heard?” Jackson questioned politely. Thank god he was better at small talk.
“Yup,” Ryland nodded.
“Now we're coasting for babes by the shore—” Colt started only to earn an elbow in the side by his brother. “What? It's summer! Don't tell me you weren't thinking about some smoking hot LA chicks? Good God, Ry, get your head out of the textbooks for a week.”
“I like the textbooks more than judgy girls.”
“They’re only judgy because you make yourself an easy target.”
Courtland rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, stop it.”
Ryland turned his attention back onto Jackson, who watched the twins bicker with a slight grin. “So how long have you guys been working together?”
“Eh, about a couple of months,” Jackson shrugged.
“What was your last case?” Colt asked.
“It was about this woman who—”
As Jackson started the rundown, there came another ring of the doorbell. Holland jumped up to get it, stomach rumbling. He opened the door to a bored looking teen with three pizza boxes in hand.
"Twenty even, bro," the kid said flatly.
Holland dug into his pocket and produced twenty-five dollars, handing it to the kid with a nod. "Thanks."
The kid didn't say anything else, just nodded and strolled back down to his car parked in the cul-de-sac. Holland kicked the door shut behind him as he re-entered the kitchen, finding his nephews hanging off of Jackson's every word. He couldn't blame them. The man was a good storyteller. It was why he did most of the talking when it came to consultations. Holland was good at talking, sure, but more on the negoation aspect of things. He always managed to sway their customers to provide a few more zeroes on their checks. Jackson could complain about his sleaziness all he wanted, but at least he was getting them money.
"Eat up, kiddos," Holland said as he set the boxes on the counter. He set aside three pepperoni slices for Holly. Jackson handed him a stack of plates to pass to his nephews.
Dinner was awkwardly silent, much to Holland's dismay. He hated silence. Sometimes it was good and other times he wanted to bash his head into the wall to make some noise. After sitting through dinner, Holland watched the front door open.
"Dad, I'm home," Holly called out as she closed and locked the door behind her. She kicked off her shoes onto the mat by the door, backpack hanging heavy off her shoulders as she waddled towards the kitchen. She paused, suddenly noticing the three nearly identical people sitting at the dinner table. She gave him a questioning look.
"Right. Not sure if you remember my daughter, Holly, but here she is!" Holland said excitedly as he brought her into a side hug. "Holly, these are your cousins: Courtland, Ryland, and Colt."
Holly gaped. "You look the same."
Colt snickered. "We've got strong genetics."
"Yeah, but you're, like… identical."
"We're twins," Ryland said, gesturing between him and Colt.
"Woah, really?" Holly breathed, barely noticing the plate of pizza Jackson offered her. She took it, quickly claiming the chair Holland left behind to lean in close. "What's that like, sharing someone's face?"
"Fun," Colt grinned. "Tell her, Ry."
"Oh yeah, it's so fun. People can't tell us apart unless I'm wearing my glasses."
Holly's eyes were bright, full of wonder and eagerness to learn more. She dug into her pizza as the twins told her a story about the one time they swapped places in class to take an exam. Courtland rolled his eyes and stood with Holland and Jackson, setting his plate in the sink when prompted. He sighed, watching the twins with mirth. Holland studied his oldest nephew. He really did look the same. He lost the baby fat, sure, but he still looked so young even though he was nearing his thirties.
A kid that didn't get to be a kid. A kid that grew up too fast and took on too much responsibility for one to handle. At least, to Holland, it was too much. He chastized himself every waking moment for being such a shitty father. Looking at the twins making Holly laugh, he could not understand for the life of him how Courtland managed to do it.
"How have you been feeling, Court?" Holland said before he could stop himself.
Courtland looked surprised at the question, but he quickly schooled his expression with a shrug. "I've been fine. Just work, sleep, make sure those two don't kill each other."
Jackson snickered where he leaned against the sink with his arms crossed. "Probably not my place to say anything, but you kids are good."
"Yeah, you did a good job, Court. I dunno how you… how you managed. And I'm…" Holland paused, the words suddenly dying in his throat once his nephew looked him in the eye.
He was tired. Bone-deep exhaustion coated the edges of Courtland's eyes, but still, he smiled softly. Holland didn't see his nephew for a split second, but his sister staring back at him with that small smile she used to give whenever he'd ask if she was fine. He swallowed back the sudden tears that flooded his eyes, clapping Court's shoulder and nodding.
"If you ever need anything, I'm a phone call away," he settled on saying.
Courtland nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."
Jackson sent Holland a look with a raised brow. Holland sent back a lighthearted glare. Not right now. He'd spew about his family issues later when his tongue was loose and coated in his best friend, liquor. For now, sobriety. Cigarettes maybe after the house fell asleep. But he hadn't seen his family in years. He found himself dreading the retreat back to his silent, empty bedroom where his clothes littered the floor because he was too lazy to clean up.
"So, what were you planning to do while you're here?" Holland asked.
"Whatever the twins wanted to do."
"Yeah, but you. What about you?"
Courtland studied him for a moment. He shrugged again, eyes passive. "I dunno."
The sacrifice of parenthood. He'd heard and seen all about it from his sister before Holly was born. He took it at face value but it still didn't prepare him for the absolute gut punch that would land over and over again. Holland could drink all he want, smoke all he want, but he was responsible for another human's life at the end of the day, and that meant throwing whatever he truly wanted aside for the sake of Holly. Courtland was the same way, in that aspect. He never really got to be a kid. He was always the guardian of the twins, ensuring they had a roof over their heads and food on the table. It was as admirable as it was sad, because now that the twins were old enough to start caring for themselves, Courtland looked… lost.
Jackson nudged Courtland with his elbow. "There's gotta be somethin' you want to do. Beach? Bar hop?"
"Nah," Courtland said with a small smile. He gazed at the twins again as Ryland gave Colt his glasses, the teen squinting to adjust to his new vision. "I just want to see them happy."
And oh, if that wasn't a giant kick to Holland's gut as he followed Court's gaze to see Holly smiling wide at the twins' antics. He'd fought an internal battle for a long time, constantly being tugged between fully comitting to sobriety and becoming the man he wants to be and the comfort of the routine he's had for years, continuing to be a selfish, sleazy businessman who neglected his daughter. His daughter, who was the light of his life. Her smile was bright even after nearly being killed multiple times. She still threw blankets over him when he passed out on the couch after he drank a damn bar dry.
He wanted to see her happy, too, but he was stuck in a cycle he couldn't quit. God damn him.
"Ry's going to college after the summer, which means he'll be moving out. At least for the year. And Colt… I have a feeling he'll follow Ry for a bit while he tries to get on his feet. This'll be the last summer they can be free and happy before the trap that is adulthood comes to ensnare them." Courtland's eyes became unbearably sad. "I just want to see them be kids again. Just for a little bit. Maybe document this trip for my own sanity because I know when they move out, I'm gonna be a mess."
Holland blinked back tears again, picturing the day that would inevitably come where Holly would walk across the stage with her diploma in hand. Something in him broke at the thought. He wanted to be there for that. At the current state he was in, fingers shaking by his sides and lungs craving the cancer sticks he adores, he realized there was a possiblity that he wouldn't make it to that. His liver could finally turn against him in retaliation for years of abuse, same with his lungs. He'd be the reason why Holly would be without a father for the important accomplishments in her life. He wanted to see her succeed.
"Yeah, I know I will be a mess, too," Holland managed after sniffling. Damn his introspective nephew, making him look like even more of a mess than he already is. "Enough about the future. We're in the now, kiddo. And now means going to have fun. So tomorrow we're going to the beach."
Courtland nodded. "Thank you."
"No thanks, kid. You're family."
"Still."
"Colt! Give me my glasses!"
Holly's joyous laughter echoed in the house as Colt held Ryland's glasses over his head. Ryland reached for them with a slight squint, one of his hands trying to smack Colt's face as a distraction. Holland chuckled as Colt jumped out of his seat and ran into the living room, Ryland yelling after him. Courtland rolled his eyes.
"Sorry about them."
"Don't be. It's funny."
Yeah, this would be a week Holland tried his damn hardest to keep promises he so easily breaks. And maybe, just maybe, make his daughter proud of him.
The whole drive to the beach, the twins were practically vibrating in the backseat. They hadn't been on vacation… God, Courtland couldn't remember the last time. He knew that both twins loved the beach, which was primarily why he called Holland in the first place.
Holland's business partner tagged along, too, which made Courtland question the man's place in Holland's life. There was nothing wrong if they were… you know. Courtland didn't care. You only live once, live life in ways that makes you happy. He was simply curious because the man seemed to be like a second father to Holly, the glue that held father and daughter together.
Courtland stared out of the car, the wind rippling through his hair. Holland insisted they take his Mercedes, where the top was permanantly down. It was nice despite the sun beating down on them overhead. The only downside to Holland's car was the lack of space. Court and the twins were in the back while Holland drove, aviators resting on his nose, and Jackson sat in the passenger seat. Which meant that Holly was smushed between Courtland and Colt. He felt bad for the girl, but she seemed just as excited to go to the beach as the twins.
As Holland pulled into a parking lot, Courtland could feel the salty air, could smell the ocean. His heart filled with excitement. How could he not be excited? It was a vacation for him, too. He fiddled with the camera in his hands, ensuring the battery was full. There was no way he was missing documenting this.
Holland put the car in park and turned the ignition off. "Alright, guys, let's go!"
Colt was out of the car in an instant. He'd packed clothes for the occasion, all right. He wore a white tank top and trunks, a hawaiian shirt hanging from his shoulders. Ryland wore a white t-shirt and trunks as well as a ball cap, though he still squinted in the bright light. Courtland went with Jackson to help grab towels and a cooler they'd packed from the trunk. He snickered, turning on his camera and capturing the twins jogging behind Holland as he led them to the sand.
"Woah…" Ryland muttered as they reached the cutoff between wooden boards and sand.
Woah, indeed. The sand was as white as pearls, reflecting the sunlight at immeasurable amounts. Courtland put his sunglasses on to protect his poor retinas. Above, clouds lazily drifted by, providing slivers of shade to the beach's many occupants. Seagulls flew around squawking. There was a volleyball match to their left, with teens probably around Colt and Ry's age.
"Come on!" Holly exclaimed, tugging Colt and Ryland onto the sand.
Courtland stayed back with Jackson, helping the man by carrying their towels. He spotted Holland standing in an empty spot, waving at them. Courtland snickered, pointing the camera at Holly as she dragged the twins towards the water. This was going to be good.
Jackson set the cooler down with a sigh, stretching his arms above his head. "What the fuck did you pack in there that makes it a million pounds?"
Holland took the large blanket tucked under Courtland's arm and started to spread it out. "We've got four kiddos running around, Healy, they're gonna get hungry."
Courtland zoomed in on Holly struggling to push Colt in the water. He chuckled to himself when Colt went willingly, flopping into the sea and dragging Ryland with him. Holly smiled bright and jumped in beside them, flinging water back at Colt.
"It's too damn hot…" Jackson muttered, but he wordlessly set up an umbrella. Where the hell did that come from?
Courtland sat beside Holland, making sure the camera was rolling and on his brothers as he started putting on sunscreen. He knew LA was hot, but holy shit, it was hot. It felt like his skin was being boiled alive before he even put the sunscreen on. Lathering it on his skin didn't even feel like ample protection. He didn't understand how Holland liked living here, if he even did. Courtland couldn't stand the thought of walking out the door every morning with swamp ass and pit stains.
"Did Holly put on sunscreen?" Jackson asked as he flopped on the banket, sighing into the shade.
"Oop, shit."
"How'd you forget that?"
"I was excited for a relaxing day. Sue me."
"Good luck pulling her out of the water."
"Did the twins put any on?" Holland asked Court.
"I tried, but they were antsy," he replied earnestly.
The man shrugged. "She'll come get some whenever she wants to. Look on the bright side. A couple hours on the beach drains any person of their energy. We'll be takin' naps in front of box fans in a bit."
"Don't that sound nice," Jackson grumbled.
"Not a fan of the beach, I take it?" Courtland asked the man.
Jackson shrugged. "It's the sand. I can already feel it seeping into places it shouldn't be."
"TMI, man," Holland said.
"It's a universal experience," Jackson shot back.
Holland just pointed his thumb at the man with an eye roll, as if saying get a load of this guy. Courtland snickered and turned his sights back on the twins, who were taking turns splashing each other and Holly. He was glad they were getting along well with their cousin. For a long time, they thought it was just Courtland as their family. Courtland couldn't believe he'd forgotten to tell them about their uncle and cousin, but he's been busy. He could already see the tension and worries leaving his brothers' shoulders with the tide. Good. They deserved it.
Jackson was reading a paperback novel, something you could get out of a weird gas station in the middle of nowhere. Holland was laying on his back, hand on his stomach and the other over his eyes. Courtland observed the beach. There was a group of adults to their right, about twenty yards away, with a stereo blasting some sort of summer station. To their left was the volleyball group, though they seemed to have taken a break by sitting down with bottles of water in their hands. Near the shore, a man tossed his daughter into the water; the little girl emerged from the water spluttering and saying, "again! Again!"
Courtland found the twins again. Ryland had Holly on his shoulders, a determined grin on his face as they chased down Colt further into the water. He turned the camera off for the time being. Some things were better to witness through the eyes as opposed to a lens. He'd make better memories that way.
"Court! Come on!" Colt called from the water. "I need backup!"
His brother was pushed into the water again by Holly, her and Ryland sharing a victorious smile and high five.
"Go ahead, kid," Holland said with a slight nudge. "Go have fun."
For once, he didn't hesitate, didn't have thoughts of bills and fees on his mind. He smiled and stood, shrugging off his light button up and putting on another layer of sunscreen on his torso for good measure. Not that it mattered since he'd be going into the water. Whatever. Courtland got in the water just as Colt emerged.
"Yes! Here, come on, lemme get on your shoulders—" Colt said as he put his hands on Court's shoulders and pushed. His hands slid on the sunscreen.
"Wait, dude, hang on—"
"Looks like they're struggling," Ryland said to Holly with a grin.
"Easy win for us!" she said.
A feeling he thought was long gone possessed him. Competition. Courtland crouched to help Colt sit on his shoulders. He staggered to his feet, hands pressed firmly on Colt's legs to keep him stable. He knew his brothers were older, grown, now, but it still didn't make it easier on his shoulders to keep a grown teenager on them. He could already tell he was going to have a killer ache tomorrow, but he didn't care, not when everyone was smiling and happy, himself included.
"Chicken fight!' Holly shrieked.
Courtland held fast and charged just as Ryland did. He kept one hand on Colt and tried to push Ryland gently with the other. Holly giggled uncontrollably as she fought Colt's weak attacks. She got a good push in, though, that sent Courtland stumbling a little. She used it to her advantage and pushed Colt again, sending him sliding backwards off of Court's shoulders. He let his brother tumble into the water and watched Ryland and Holly share yet another victorious high five. Colt wiped his eyes and gestured at Court.
"He's going easy on you! What happened to no mercy, Court?"
"I never said that."
"Well, I declare no mercy!"
Courtland rolled his eyes but let his brother climb back onto his shoulders for another round. Holly and Colt engaged in another pushing match while Court and Ryland exchanged fake glares. Colt managed to gently push Holly back to where she flailed her arms, screeching as she fell backwards without purchase. Ryland fell with her, creating a big splash. Courtland laughed as Colt shouted with his arms raised.
"Yes! Yes! Take that! No mercy!" he hollered as their opponents wiped sea water from their faces.
"No! Again! Best of three!" Holly negotiated.
"Winner gets what?" Ryland said.
"Winner gets to…" the girl paused, furrowing her brows as she thought. She perked up. "Winner gets the rest of the ice cream in the fridge!"
"Oh, get me in there, Court. We're winning this thing!" Colt declared.
"I don't think so. I think we've got this in the bag, Holly," Ryland said with a coy grin as he helped her back onto his shoulders.
They took deep breaths before engaging in another match. Courtland planted his feet in the sand, feeling particles kick up in the water at his motions. He was never one to lie down when ice cream was in the mix. Much like the twins, he had an enormous sweet tooth. He was determined to win that ice cream, and so was everyone else. He saw it in the way Ryland's brows furrowed in focus, the lenses on his glasses covered in droplets of water he was definitely annoyed by. Holly locked her hands with Colt's, her jaw clenched as she pushed against Colt with all her might. Colt pushed back with a little bit more strength.
When it seemed like Colt was going to win, Courtland felt a hand push his side. He stumbled for a moment before falling into the water, Colt falling behind him. Courtland stood, spluttering, seeing that Ryland and Holly had been pushed, too. They glanced in confusion at each other before Courtland heard a cackle. All four sets of eyes locked onto Holland, who was doubled over in laughter.
"I get the ice cream," he bragged.
"Not fair, Dad! That was a compromise between us, not you!" Holly protested.
"It's my ice cream."
"I almost had them if you didn't get in the way!"
Courtland watched with a small smile as Holland pretended to concede, raising his hands in surrender only to grab Holly and toss her into the water with a shriek. Holland cackled again, the brothers sharing a snicker as the girl emerged from the water with murder in her eyes.
"That's it!" she said as she charged.
She wrapped her arms around Holland's middle, pushing at him with all her might. Holland stumbled back and with a well-timed shove, Holly succeeded in her endeavor. She grinned in satisfaction as the man sat up in the water, brushing his hair back.
"Good one, sweetie. But you've just started a war you can't finish!"
Holly's infectious smile hit the boys, and before Courtland could blink, Ryland suddenly pushed him into the water. Courtland glared at him when he came back up, though his heart sang happily as his brothers laughed.
"I'll give you a three second headstart," Courtland said.
Ryland and Colt shared a look, clearly not taking him seriously. Three seconds passed in an instant, and Courtland lunged. He grabbed Ryland, performing an RKO and splashing into the sea. He got up quickly as Ryland spit out water and charged at Colt. Colt would argue that he didn't shout like a little girl as Courtland heaved him over his shoulder and ran further into the water. He dropped Colt into deeper water just as Ryland shouted and hopped onto his back like a koala.
Courtland wrestled both of his brothers with a broad smile and loose shoulders—something he hasn't had in a long time. He remembered Holland's words: "Yeah, you did a good job, Court. I dunno how you… how you managed."
He didn't know, either, but he also thinks he did a pretty damn good job.
A few minutes later when the sun felt too hot on their skin, the five of them retreated back to the shade where Jackson sat, sipping from a soda can, still reading his book. He looked up as they approached.
"Do I want to know?" he said.
"I won ice cream," Holland said.
Holly glared at him. "No, you didn't. You didn't play chicken fight, so you didn't adhere to the rules, therefore, you didn't win anything."
"Big words, sweetie, I don't understand them."
Ryland flopped onto the blanket, lying on his back and staring at the umbrella. "How am I so tired already?"
"You didn't put on sunscreen, that's why," Courtland said as he tossed his brother the bottle. He didn't catch it. "Make sure you put some on before going back out there."
"You, too, Holly," Holland reminded.
"Yeah, yeah. Did you pack sandwiches?" the girl asked.
"What kinda animal do you take me for? Of course I did."
Holly brightened considerably and grabbed a sandwich from the cooler, opening the ziplock bag with haste. She passed one out to everyone before digging into her own. The six of them ate in silence, watching the lively beach goers do their things. Some dude was riding a bike down the beach. Courtland stared but didn't question it. Different place, different people, different things. He kept telling himself that even as he caught Colt staring at a group of girls a few yards away. They all lay in the sun, sunglasses and straw hats covering their eyes from the sun's ruthless rays.
The next few hours were spent with Holly and the twins going in and out of the water, playing various games. On one of the breaks, Colt actually went over to the girls he was staring at earlier, slightly flexing his muscles as he spoke. Courtland and Ryland watched with amusement as the girls all giggled, with one of them telling Colt it was nice to meet him and effectively shutting down any and all conversation he planned on having. He walked dejectedly back to them, ignoring Ryland's pointed look.
The sun had moved from being directly overhead to starting towards the horizon. As the twins played with Holly one last time in the water, Courtland stood on the shore with his camera. He caught a beautiful moment: the sky was beginning to glow orange and yellow with the sun's descent, the wispy clouds illuminated by the rays of light. In front of the gorgeous sunset, Ryland was smiling wide enough for his eyes to involuntarily close, laughter tumbling from his mouth as he spun Holly around.
It was like one of those scenes you see in the movies where a loved one is remembering someone they've lost, and all you can see are the brightest moments of the one that passed. You see their bright smiles, hear their laughs, their jokes, all of the things that made that person them. Courtland ensured to capture the moment, as well as Colt's identical smile, because while the twins would always be there as long as they lived, they wouldn't be the same people after this trip. They would have to focus on their futures, their careers, and Courtland knew how that could consume a person. Adulting would seep the youth from their faces, the smiles from their lips.
He'd miss this—being able to hang out with his brothers without time constraints and scheduling conflicts.
No more dwelling on it, he told himself. He hid the camera in his towel bundled under his arm as the twins and Holly started back towards the sand, exhaustion tugging down at their shoulders.
"I'm ready to eat a pig," Colt said.
"Same," Holly agreed.
He clapped Colt's shoulder. "We're gonna get some food and head back to the house."
"Awesome," Ryland said as he tried to wipe his glasses on his towel. It didn't work. It smudged them further. "I'm so hungry."
The group silently clambored into Holland's car. The man drove them through some fast food joint and parked in the parking lot as they ate. After Holland finished his food, he turned the ignition again, driving just a few minutes down the road until they came across an ice cream shop with the lights still on. Courtland didn't know if he could eat anymore, but the thought of ice cream revived the bottomless pit that was his stomach. He couldn't deny the sweet treat.
"Anything you want, on me," Jackson said to the group as they exited the car.
"Thank you," the twins chorused.
Holland, Holly, and Jackson stared at them for a moment like they were aliens before composing themselves. It was totally normal to say something at the same time as someone else. Still, their expressions made Courtland snicker.
Once everyone got their orders and Jackson paid, they retreated back to the car. The twins got vanilla cones with chocolate drizzle while Courtland got chocolate with chocolate drizzle. Holland got a sundae, Holly got a waffle bowl with three scoops of cookies and cream, and Jackson got cookie dough. Courtland relished in the frozen delight. After the day they had full of heat and sweat and salty water, he was so ready to fall into bed and sleep for the next two days.
Back at the house, Holly gave her dad a hug, whispering something to him with a smile as she headed towards her room. Courtland saw the fond, almost tearful look in the man's eyes.
"Thank you for today, Unlce Holland," Ryland said with a yawn. In the house's dim lighting, Courtland could see the redness on the twins' noses and cheeks. Yup, they were definitely going to regret not wearing sunscreen tomorrow.
Holland cleared his throat, blinking. "Yeah, yeah, of couse. Good graduation gift, huh?"
Colt snickered. "Yeah. Thank you."
"There's a bathroom at the end of the hall you guys can use to wash up. Towels are under the sink."
The exhaustion seemed to sit like a blanket over the occupants of the house. Everyone wished each other good night and went their separate ways. Courtland flopped onto the cold floor of their room as the twins argued for who would shower first. Ryland won the argument somehow. Courtland didn't listen to it much. Instead, as the twins took their turns using the restroom, Courtland took out the camera.
He watched back the footage he got for the day, unable to control his smile. He watched the twins' first look at the beach, the way Holly dragged them into the water. He watched, confused, as he saw himself run to the water to play chicken fight.
"And there goes Court to provide some extra muscle," came Holland's voice, narrating the footage. "Is my daughter strong enough to overthrow a teenage boy, or is Colt just playing nice? Guess we'll see in a sec."
"What're you doin'?" Jackson asked.
Holland pointed the camera at himself for a moment. "I'm helping out a fellow parent. Kids grow up fast, man."
Jackson didn't respond, and Holland turned the camera back towards the ongoing chicken fight match.
"Oop, there goes Colt. Guess my daughter has the strength of ten men. Good job, sweetie."
Holland continued to narrate the next match, until Courtland could hear the lightbulb go off in his head.
"Shh, don't tell anyone," Holland said, putting a finger to his lips as he turned the camera. He propped it on top of the cooler, making sure the frame caught him running towards the water and pushing both Court and Ryland into the water.
Courtland watched, a surge of gratitude flooding his heart as Holly chased her father and Courtland wrestled his brothers in the water.
Despite the years of hardship, of struggle, all of it paid off in the best way possible. He watched the footage over again as Ryland and Colt told him to shower. He conceded, and once he returned from his shower, he found the twins already clocked out and sleeping on the larger mattress on the floor. Colt's arms were sprawled out, one of his arms resting over Ryland's face and the other hitting the floor. Ryland was a bit more curled into himself, his one hand reaching for his glasses and the other clutching his blanket.
Courtland took Ryland's glasses, folded them, and put them on the windowsil where they wouldn't accidentally be crushed. He moved Colt's hand off of Ryland's face, putting the limb in the space between the twins. He smiled down at his sunburnt brothers, wondering what they were going to do tomorrow.