Backup Plan - Emily Goodwin Page 0,16
to get up, but Dean stops her, saying he’ll get the baby.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if there were half a dozen mini-Masons running around already,” I say.
“Same can be said for you, you whore,” Mason retorts, and Jacob laughs.
“Are we going to Silver Lake or all the way to Lake Michigan?” Rory asks, ignoring our bickering.
“Silver,” Jacob answers. “By the time we go to Lake Michigan, it’ll be storming, and I really don’t want to get stuck out there—again.”
“The boat is new,” Dad grumps, offended when we insult the old clunker of a boat we had before.
“The lake is hot as fuck,” Mason warns Rory, and Nana Benson swats him on the back of the head.
“Language,” she hisses. “There’s a baby present.”
“It’s not like he can—” Mason starts and then turns his head down. “Sorry, Nana.”
“It is hot out there,” I agree and take another bite of food.
“Good,” Rory says. “It’ll be fall before we know it and missing the heat of summer. And then we’ll be buried under snow. Though it’s not as bad in Eastwood as it is here. Funny how just a few hours down makes a big difference in the snow.”
“If a transfer to Miami comes up this winter, I might just take it,” Mason tells us.
“No, you won’t,” Mom says right back. “That’s too far.”
“Did you forget I spent two years in Arizona?”
“No, I didn’t at all. I only saw you three times in that time.”
“I was undercover,” he reminds us. “And it paid off. We got the bad guys.”
“What time are we going out?” Rory asks, taking the baby from Dean so she can nurse him.
“Seven?” Jacob suggests and everyone shudders.
“Why would I voluntarily get up at seven?” Mason looks at me, knowing I get up early for work a lot too. “Nine.”
“Fine,” Jacob huffs. “Nine it is.”
“I think the storm is rolling in faster than we expected.” I twist in my seat, beer in hand. We’re in the busy part of the lake today, and it’s packed with people doing just the same as us. Saturdays are always busy, but with school starting next week, I think everyone is trying to get out and enjoy one last hurrah before going back to the grind.
I used to live for summer, and it seemed the older I got, the faster summers went by. Then I got into med school and summers were a thing of the past.
“It is,” Dad says, looking at the weather radar. “We have time for one more time around and then we should head back. It’ll take a while to cross the lake.”
Since it was so busy today, we had to park and dock on the other side of the lake, the “quiet part” reserved for fishing and kayaking. It’s a no-wake zone, so it takes a long-ass time to idle through the water until we get to this part of the lake.
“Who’s up?” Dad asks, and Mason and Rory play Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who gets to go on the tube once more. Rory wins, and I’m pretty sure Mason let her. We’re all big softies when it comes to our little sister, even though she drove us crazy when we were kids.
The gray clouds look like they’re starting to clear up when Rory climbs back onto the boat, but the radar tells a different story, and I’d rather not get caught in a thunderstorm on the water. The boat ramp will most definitely be all backed up by then, with people clambering to get loaded up and out of the storm.
I pop the top on my third beer—I’m not driving or anything—and sit next to Rory in the back of the boat. I don’t drink very often, both because of being on-call throughout the week, and because I’ve gotten pretty damn dedicated to working out this past year. It’s been a good distraction and the perfect way to blow off steam when I have a rough day at work.
“I don’t even like beer but that looks good,” she huffs.
“Can’t you have a little?” I ask.
“I can, and I had like half a glass of wine the other night that pretty much made me drunk,” she laughs. “I’m going to nurse Adam as soon as we’re home, so no booze for me. My boobs hurt.”
“But they look good.” Dean playfully elbows her, and she giggles.
Taking a long drink of beer, I lean back and enjoy the breeze on my face as the boat gets going. It’s hotter than hell