Skin Deep

This rule was brought up last week at breakfast, and was more than likely the reason that neither Brandon, nor Jackson, would ever miss another one. Well, that and the scalloped potato incident…



Last week we had all gone over to my parents’ house for breakfast. Allie had come, as per usual. There were very few Sunday breakfasts that she’s missed in all the years we’ve been friends, and they’ve been mostly in the last couple of years. Since all three of the guys have been coming, she’s started showing up like clockwork again, which my mother adores.



My mom had made a big batch of scalloped potatoes for dinner on Saturday night, which all of us kids love. After breakfast, I had asked my mom if I could take the leftovers home with me, and (of course) she said I could. I reached in the fridge to get them and sat them on the counter to grab my purse and give hugs and goodbyes. The guys had all headed outside with my dad to look at something he wanted to show them, and when I turned to grab the potatoes, they were gone.



I spent a good five minutes looking everywhere for them, and it hit me. I headed out to the garage yelling for my brother. When I got out there, he was standing just outside the garage with the bowl in his hands. I had stomped over to him and demanded that he give me the potatoes. That’s when things went to hell and I ended up being brunt of about a million jokes, not to mention the 2,000 and counting hits on the Youtube video that my dear brother-in-law, Noah, had so kindly posted.



He said it was too funny not to post, what with Calland opening the lid and licking the potatoes inside the bowl so I wouldn’t want them. Which made me stomp and tattle to my mother (don’t judge me), and then Calland had told me I could have them if I could get them from him, but I couldn’t cross the imaginary line he marked across the driveway with his foot. Long story short, I chased him around the driveway screaming like a banshee trying to get the potatoes while everyone laughed at me. (I didn’t get the potatoes back.)



Since then, I’d tried not to let my brother get a rise out of me, but it never turned out well. Thanksgiving was next week and he was threatening to hide the homemade mac n’ cheese from me. Asshole. Always.



The Monday before Thanksgiving was hell for some reason. I drove myself to work because Luke had told me that morning after his shower (we were running late, so I didn’t get to share it with him) that he would be working late tonight.



The phones were ringing off the hook and Floyd was out of the office for the week. I only had to work Monday and Tuesday, because I have an awesome boss and got to take Wednesday, Thursday (obviously), and Friday off for the holiday. I was looking forward to having a five day weekend and getting to spend some time down at Luke’s shop with him. I’d even tentatively picked out a new one that I wanted Luke to give me, but I hadn’t asked him about it yet.



My phone rang again and I put the client currently crying on my shoulder about her case on hold while I answered the second line.



“Floyd Grim’s office, can I help you?” I said into the phone.



“You forgot to say good morning, my love.”



“Excuse me? This is Floyd Grim’s office…is there something I can help you with?” I tried again, not sure I really heard what I thought I did.



“You always say good morning or good afternoon. You didn’t say it, sweetheart. And you should have.” The voice continued speaking in a harsh whisper, deep, guttural, and chilling.



“I’m…sorry? Is there…can I help you?” I stammered, caught off guard by his words.



“I call you all the time to hear your voice. Figured it was time I actually spoke to you. I’m going to miss hearing you while you’re out on holiday, my love.”



I really didn’t know what to say, and he was starting to freak me out. “Sir, this is a law office and if you aren’t calling to speak to someone in that capacity, then I have to ask that you not call again. Good day, sir,” I said quickly and hung the phone up.



My phone beeped, reminding me that I had another call on hold, and I jumped. Laughing at myself, I picked up the phone and tried to calm the poor lady down. After promising that Floyd would call her at the beginning of next week, I hung up and immersed myself in the million and two other things that needed my attention before I closed the office for the holiday tomorrow.



I didn’t think much of that weird phone call until I was tucked under Luke’s arm in bed that night. It hit me that the creepy guy had said he called all the time to hear my voice, and I wondered if he was the one that kept calling and hanging up. I made a mental note to speak to Floyd about it when he got back on Monday and drifted off to sleep.



“Emma,” a voice whispered in my ear.



I jerked up and winced, rubbing my forehead where it had connected with Brandon’s chin. Pause…rewind…Brandon?



“Shit!” I shrieked as I scrambled for the sheet to cover my naked breasts as I glared at Brandon sitting calmly on the edge of the bed where I was laying, rubbing his face where my head had hit while he grinned unapologetically at me.



“What the hell are you doing, Brandon? Where’s Luke?” I yelled at him.



“He called and said he wanted to let you sleep a bit but he forgot to the reset the alarm for you. He had to go in early because we were getting some new supplies in that he had to be there for. Asked that I wake you up. So, wake up!” He sounded entirely too cheerful, and I suspected that he was up to something. I just wasn’t awake enough to figure out what.



“Okay, I’m awake! So, get the hell outta here so I can get up!” I shooed him out with one hand, the other tightly clasping the sheet to me so he wouldn’t get another peep show.



He got up and walked to the door, throwing one last parting shot over his shoulder. “Nice rack, by the way. Now get in the kitchen and make me some pancakes, woman!”



I lobbed a pillow at him but he ducked out the door into the hallway before it connected and I sat there shaking my head at his audacity, listening to his laughter fade as he ran down the stairs.



I showered and got ready for work, foregoing my usual attire for a tight fitting pair of faded jeans and an oversized hot pink hoodie. Floyd didn’t care if I went casual sometimes, and I really wasn’t anticipating much traffic in the office this close to the holiday.



I headed to the office still grinning at the image of Brandon’s face as I left him sitting at the table. He’d been in his bedroom when I came down and I had knocked on his door, telling him his pancakes were getting cold. He’d come flying out of his room, babbling that he had been kidding, but since I was so nice and really made him pancakes then he was going to love me for all time and Luke could just get over it.



I didn’t think Luke would have anything to get over, since I didn’t make him pancakes. Instead, I had popped a couple of blueberry waffles I had found stuffed in the back of the freezer into the toaster and slapped them down on a plate in front of him, laughing out right at the shocked and almost pained expression on his face when he realized he really wasn’t getting what he wanted.



Tuesday was a decently slow day and I was finishing up lunch at my desk when my cell phone chimed in my purse. I looked at it and smiled when I saw that Luke had texted.



Hey, sugar. Sorry I didn’t get to see your smiling face this morning. I miss you.



I hit reply and began to type. It’s okay. I just wish I could have seen your face when Brandon told you what I did to him this morning! =)