Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(93)

Jack’s sisters brought some of Mel’s closest friends with them—Ralph Lauren, Lilly Pulitzer, Michael Kors and Coach. Each one of them had a strong sense of style, but what was more obvious than their collective taste in fashion was their warmth and humor. They all met Mel with delight, eschewing the offered handshake and immediately embracing her. It was a very physical, affectionate family. Every time Mel stole a look at Jack he had his arms around a sister or niece, frequently dropping kisses on their heads or cheeks. Just as frequently he would seek out Mel and put a possessive arm about her shoulders or waist. And to her surprise, so would Sam, as though they’d been close for years.

All Brie had wanted for her birthday was to have the family together and her brother home. “He’s not so very far away,” Mel said. “Don’t you get to see him often?”

“Not nearly often enough,” Brie said. “Jack has been essentially gone for twenty-three years. Since he was seventeen.”

It was a loud day, filled with laughter and good food. Sam took care of the meat while the sisters brought delicious side dishes. After dinner, the kids took off to watch DVDs on the big screen or jump in the backyard pool or play video games on grandpa’s computer. It was just the adults sitting around the patio tables and they told stories about Jack that almost made him blush.

“Remember, Dad, when you were giving away Jack’s bed and were going to surprise him with a new bigger one because he’d gotten so tall? So heavy?” Immediate laughter from everyone—Mel was the only one not intimate with this story. “A friend of the family wanted the bed for one of his younger kids. He was a respected member of the PTA…”

“Aw, you act like he was the frickin’ preacher or something,” Jack protested.

“And when they pulled off the mattress, Jack’s private library was exposed for all eyes to see,” Donna said, and everyone howled.

“I’d been raising girls,” Sam said. “I completely forgot what boys were doing when they were supposed to be doing homework.”

“At least it was good, solid, decent girlie magazines and not pictures of women in bras from Sears catalog,” Jack said in his defense. “Fine, upstanding, naked women!”

“Here, here,” the brothers-in-law intoned.

“You know,” Mel said, “I’ve noticed there’s only one bathroom besides the master bath in this house…”

Immediate noise erupted—shouts, laughter, whistles, jeering. “We used to have the biggest fights over the bathroom,” one of the women said.

“I wasn’t in that,” Jack insisted.

“You were the worst!” it was accused.

“Plus, when he got the bathroom, he’d stay in there for hours! He wouldn’t give it up until all the hot water was gone!”

“Mom had to give him a timer for his shower—so the rest of us could get clean, too. Of course, he just ignored it. And Mom would say, now, now, I know Jack’s trying. Because Jack was her little precious.”

“I started showering at night—it was the only way,” Donna said.

“Speaking of nights—do you know what he used to do to us at night? Mary and I had the same bedroom, and it was crammed to the ceiling with our stuff. Jack and one of his friends used to sneak in when we were asleep and tie strings to our fingers and toes and connect the strings to stuff around the room, so when we turned over in our sleep—everything came crashing down around us!”

“That’s nothing,” Jeannie said. “I used to come home from school and find all my stuffed animals with nooses around their necks, hanging from my bed canopy!”

“They act like they never did anything to me,” Jack said.

“Do you remember the time we were all in the family room, all five of us, and Mom came into the room with a bunch of condoms in her hand and said, ‘Guess what I found floating in the washer? Jack, I imagine these must belong to you.’”

Wild laughter erupted and Jack got all stirred up. “Yeah, but they weren’t mine, were they? Because mine were right where I’d left them! I suspect Donna!”

“I was a feminist,” Donna declared.

“Mom would never have believed it—Donna was her pride and joy!”

“Donna was screwing around!”

“I can’t take these stories,” Sam said, standing up and going for a beer, making them all laugh.

“It’s okay, Dad,” Donna yelled. “I don’t need birth control anymore!”

When it was time to clean up and the sun had set, the men went off somewhere and three of the sisters insisted that the birthday girl and the guest relax while they did the work. Mel was left with Brie. They sat at the patio table by candlelight.

“My brother has never brought a woman home before,” Brie said.

“After watching him with his family—all these females—it’s so hard to imagine. He’s completely comfortable with women. He should have been married years ago. He should have a big family of his own,” Mel said.

“It just never happened,” Brie put in. “I blame it on the marines.”

“When I first met him, I asked him if he’d ever been married and he said, ‘I was married to the marines, and she was a real bitch.’” Brie laughed. “Have you visited him in Virgin River?” Mel asked.