Protecting What's Mine(22)

His sister practically danced out of the backyard, ecstatic with newfound freedom. Linc didn’t hold it against her. She’d gone through a shitty divorce two years ago, and he was happy to step up his uncle game to give her breaks when she needed it.

He threw four more dogs on the grill. Kinley was small, but the kid could put away hot dogs like a drunk fraternity pledge. Sunshine sighed against his shin and gave him The Look.

He threw another hot dog on the grill.

His home was designed for a bachelor’s lifestyle, which coincidentally also made it great for entertaining kids. In addition to the pool table and beer fridge, he had a freezer full of hot dogs, a server that hosted every kid’s movie known to man, and an endless supply of dart guns.

“Whatcha reading, Kins?” he asked. His niece was curled up in the hammock swing he’d hung just for her from the rafter of his overhang trellis.

Kinley hated being interrupted when she was reading and reminded him of that fact with a weighty sigh for a seven-year-old before flashing the cover at him. Common Psychological Conditions, Their Symptoms, and Diagnoses.

Kinley, an advanced reader, had carte blanche at the local library.

“Who wants to play with knives?” he called to the three kids who were competing in some complex Star Wars pirate game with sticks and sound effects.

All three dropped their sticks and came running.

“You get the onion,” he said, dropping it in front of Bryson. “Real men cry. Deal with it.”

“I want the tomato,” Leah said, expressing her desires with gimmie fingers.

“Life is full of disappointments. Here’s the lettuce. I want it finely chopped, not like those giant chunks you did at Fourth of July.”

Samantha waited patiently and smirked when he gave her the tomato. “Thank you, Uncle Linc.”

He took the tomato and replaced it with a block of cheese. “Don’t be a kiss-ass.”

The kids snickered. Sunshine beamed up at him and wiggled closer to Samantha, hoping for a cheese handout.

“Remember knife safety,” he said, strutting behind them like a drill sergeant as the kids picked up their paring knives.

“No stabbing ourselves or anyone else,” they recited.

“Good. Now slice and dice, dorks.”





They ate grilled meat with clumsily sliced vegetables on paper plates under the sunny afternoon sky and enjoyed each other’s company.

Sunshine wolfed down her hot dog and then made eyes at Kinley until she forked over a generous bite of hamburger.

“Uncle Linc, why don’t you have kids?” Kinley asked out of nowhere.

“Because I haven’t made any yet.” His sisters were almost uncomfortably open with their kids on the baby-making process. And Linc was only just beginning to start considering the possibilities of family life. Someday. If he met the right woman.

“But you practice a lot,” Bryson pointed out.

Linc riffed the bill of his nephew’s cap. “Smartass.”

“Mom says he isn’t ready to settle down,” Samantha insisted knowledgeably.

“Maybe your mom should mind her own beeswax,” Linc said, to the delight of the kids.

“Don’t you want to have kids?”

“He has to find a wife or a husband first, dummy,” Kinley chimed in. “Do you have a preference, Uncle Linc?”

“He doesn’t have to be married,” Leah said. “Our dad says you can have babies and not be married, but we should make sure we’re in a solid ’nancial position before deciding.”

“Financial,” Bryson corrected, disdainfully. “Uncle Linc, do you make a lot of money being a fire chief?”

“No, nephew. No, I do not. But I’m expecting my bath bomb store on Etsy to take off any day now.”

Four pairs of eyes pinned him with stares. Either they didn’t get the joke or didn’t think it was funny.

“So, who’s up for a dart gun war?”

They battled it out for dominion on the summer crispy lawn, Linc firing left-hand in deference to his shoulder injury and burns.

He was up against the fence, Sunshine gleefully chasing Kinley, who was using her psychology tome as a shield to head to higher ground. Bryson, Leah, and Samantha fired and shrieked in kid glee.

He heard a door slide open and closed and took a peek over the fence. The cottage that backed up to his property was a rental, and he’d forgotten the landlord had signed a new lease.

He meant to only glance. Maybe throw up a friendly wave and apologize for the volume of his charges. But when he saw who it was, leaning against the railing of the small, tidy deck, he forgot everything.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She wiggled her fingers at him. “Hi, neighbor.”

“The devious Doctor Dreamy.”

“Is that her superhero name?” Leah wondered. Her pink sneakers scrabbled at the fence as she tried to climb up to get a better view.

“Hi,” Bryson said, dropping his voice lower and hiding the dart gun behind his back. “Uncle Linc, can we spend the night?” It looked like two Reed men had a crush on the same woman.

“Take that!” Samantha crowed, raining Nerf darts down on them in a fatal torrent.

“Excuse me for a minute,” Linc said to Mack and then collapsed to the grass in an epic death scene.