Stepping into the hotel rec room with Casey’s brothers, I was shocked by the scene that greeted me. A smile stretched across my face as I took in the theme of tonight’s party. Instead of flowing liquor and women dancing on poles, there were balloons, facemasks, and cupcakes topped with action figures. Keith had turned my bachelor party into a little kid’s superhero-themed shindig.

“You like?” Keith asked, straight-faced, as he flung back his Batman cape in a dramatic display.

“I… wow… it’s…”

“Totally KAPOW! Right?” He nodded, using his first of many superhero words of the evening. “You wanted something tame tonight and I aim to please, so one dry, super-boring bachelor party for my little bro! You’re welcome.”

I scanned the group of about twenty guys. All were wearing costumes or capes and sipping punch from cups with explosive words like BOOM! And ZAP! Shaking my head at all the idiots I called family and friends, I narrowed in on one very special one: Lassen. My driver had somehow managed to squeeze himself into a Superman costume that was about twelve sizes too small for him. Every nook and cranny of that big, beautiful belly of his was outlined by the fabric. The flimsy material wasn’t intended for over-stretching, and Lassen looked about ready to detonate all over the vinyl flooring. A wig of black slicked-back hair sat on top of his long, gray mountain man tresses like a dead animal pelt. He hadn’t even tried to tuck his hair up under it. It truly was a treat for the eyes, and I took him in like an ice cream sundae.

“Lassen, you went all out, my man. I’m blown away by your commitment.”

“Yeah, well, it’s because your asshole brother didn’t buy any costumes larger than an XXL.”

“How would I know you needed extra X’s?” Keith defended himself.

“Um… by looking at me.” Lassen somehow made himself appear even larger as he loomed over Keith with a snarl on his face.

In an attempt to tame the beast, I laid my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry what anyone else thinks. I think it fits you like a glove. An O.J. Simpson glove, but still a glove.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” he grumbled.

After helping Casey’s brothers find the perfect costumes – the Hulk for Luke and Ironman for Miles – the group of us spent the evening playing arcade games and sipping on virgin cocktails, a.k.a fruit punch. It was probably the most fun I’d had at a party since I was… well, a kid. Turns out, laughter was what I needed to settle my rattled nerves. Keith had found a way to send me off into the adult world in the most juvenile of ways… and I’d expected nothing less of him.

My father, dressed as Thor, pulled me off the foosball table after another crushing loss to my drummer, Chet. We’d gone three in a row, and there was no beating the guy. I thought I was quick with my hands, but he was at a whole other level of hand-eye coordination.

“That was just embarrassing,” Dad said, shaking his head in disappointment. “You need to know when to concede defeat.”

“Says the guy who cheats at every board game.”

“Only because when you kids were little, you would punch, scream, and pout over who the winner was. But, you see, if I won every time, no fighting. It was genius, really.”

“So then why are you still winning?”

“Tonight’s not about me, Jake.” He expertly deflected the question. “Let’s talk about you.”

“No, thanks,” I scoffed. “That’s one subject you know I hate talking about.”

“Well, then, this will be a short conversation.”

“Very.” I nodded. “Where’s your hammer, Thor?”

“Kyle took it. Said something about playing whack-a-mole with Quinn’s head.”

“Oh, that’s…” I stopped to ponder the vision of that in my mind. “Disturbing.”

My father didn’t seem the least bit concerned about his youngest son, although that probably had something to do with the fact that Thor’s hammer was made of flimsy plastic.

“Where’s your costume?” he asked.

“Keith granted me an exemption.”

“Makes sense.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re already a hero.”

I bristled at his words. “I really hate when you say shit like that.”

“Why? It’s true.”

My father always gave me way more credit than I deserved. I didn’t have superpowers or a desire to protect the world from ruin. Really, all I’d done for humankind was save my sorry ass. “In whose world?”

“In a lot of people’s worlds…” He stopped talking for a moment, struggling to control the unexpected emotion breaking up his words. “…but mostly mine.”

I shifted in place, uncomfortable with my father’s sudden sentiment. “Where did that come from?” I asked.

“I have no idea. I’ve been feeling a bit nostalgic today.”

“Or maybe you’re just getting weepy with old age.” I spoke with bravado, but truth be told, I’d also been walking a very thin emotional line today.

“That’s entirely possible. But you know, I think about where you were, that broken kid, and who you are now… it makes me proud to know you.” Again Dad broke down as he forced the remaining words out of his trembling throat. “You may not consider yourself one, but you’re my hero, kid.”

Dammit, now I was swallowing back the noticeable lump in my throat. What the hell was wrong with me? This whole day – actually, the past few weeks – had felt like an ending of sorts, like life was about to change forever, and the uncertainty of it all was messing with my head.

Struggling to preserve my cool, I averted my eyes to the cup in his hand, printed with the word ‘WHAM.’ It was so stupidly random I had to smile. My dad had a way of sidetracking me with his wackiness. And I’d counted on his lightheartedness during the darkest days of my life. Without his positive attitude and penchant for off-color jokes at all the wrong times, I was sure I wouldn’t be the man I was today. Crap, here came the feelings. “Thanks for always being there for me, Dad. I know I don’t say it often, but… I love you.”

His fingers pressed together like lobster claws, my dad clumsily wiped the tears away. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny or not, until his words made clear he wasn’t. “You don’t need to say it. I already know.”

Unaccustomed to sharing such personal truths, we stared awkwardly at his superhero cup, struggling to find words… any words. Mercifully, my father pulled it together in time to turn our raw honesty into a joke. “Well, this sucks.”

“I know, right?” I loved the guy, but he was not someone I wanted to dive into a deep conversation with. “Can I ask you something without you breaking down like a baby?”

“Probably not, but you can give it a shot.”

“Before you married Mom, did you ever have any doubts that you’d be a good husband and father?”

He eyed me with interest. “Why? Are you having doubts?”

“Me? No. I’m asking for a friend.”

“Oh, right.” Dad laughed. “Here’s the thing about me. I married your mother when I was twenty-three. I was so damn immature, I doubt I gave it a moment’s thought. It wasn’t until after we were husband and wife that I was like… oh, snap, this shit is real.”

“Please don’t use that word.”

“Shit?” His face twisted in surprise at the thought that I took offense to swear words, when I myself used them on a very regular basis.

“No. Snap. That word’s not for your age group.”

“For reals? I’m fly.”

“Ooh… no.” I cringed. “Just stop.”

“Pfft.” He waved off my recoil. “I don’t think you realize how totally awesome I am. My son’s a rock star, you know?”

“So I’ve heard. Can you please finish your story?”

“Oh, right. So, I had to grow up on the job. Marriage is not easy. You’ve got to work at it, but the rewards are great. And I’m not just talking about sex, which is...”

I jumped in to stop him. The last thing I wanted when I was already stressed was to hear a story about him and my mother getting it on. “Dad, seriously… no.”

“Sorry. Anyway, if you’re feeling this way now, it’s because you’re a more introspective person than I ever was – which is code for ‘You overthink things.’ My advice to you is to just relax and enjoy the ride. It’s unpredictable, but damn, is it ever worth it.”

“So then why do you always make Mom sound like your parole officer?”

“Because it’s funny. And true. She owns my ass… just like Casey will own yours in just a few short hours.”

“Dammit, why does everyone keep saying that? I’m not going to wuss out like the rest of you.”

“Oh, no?” Dad’s grin transformed his entire face. “Talk to me again in twenty years.”

“Casey’s not like that.”

“Neither was your Mom… until we got hitched. And then it was…”

Dad made his hand into a fist and squeezed. His face took on the look of a man being clocked in the nuts. I laughed despite myself. He was always good at dispensing unhelpful advice, similar to those ladies who circled around a first-time pregnant woman in order to pepper her with tales of their own unbearable childbirth suffering.

“Whatever, Dad.”

“You don’t believe me? Fine. Let me share with you my theory on the similarities between marriage and honeybee sex.”

I didn’t give him the benefit of a reply, as I knew more was coming and I didn’t want to delay what I was sure would be an entertaining explanation.

“See, the virgin queen takes a mating flight with a dozen or so male drones. Now, I know what you’re thinking… those are some lucky bees, right?”

“No, I really wasn’t thinking anything at all.”

“I mean out of the hundreds of eligible bachelors in the colony, she picked those winged studs. Except there’s nothing lucky about it because while the two are having tiny little honeybee intercourse in the sky, at the very moment of reckoning, the drone’s genitals explode, and all his bloody miniaturized parts seal off the queen like a microscopic butt plug!”

My eyebrows shot to the sky as I jerked my head up in alarm. This definitely wasn’t where I thought the story was going. “Jesus.”

“Exactly.” He nodded, like it all made perfect sense. “After the queen got what she wanted from the poor hapless dude, he became totally useless to her.”

I waited for my father to offer up any more words of wisdom, but nothing followed. That couldn’t be it. “And?”

“There’s no and, son,” he said shaking his head. “That’s marriage.”

Still a little shell-shocked from Dad’s rather unpleasant portrait of holy matrimony, I made my way over to my younger brother, Kyle, lounging on the couch. His eyes were closed, and one leg hung over the armrest as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I envied his relaxed state of being. If I had just a tiny bit of his slacker mentality, I was convinced I’d be a happier person. Taking in his costume of choice, I had to smile. Of all the superheroes he had to choose from, Kyle had settled on Ant-Man. Of course he had. My brother could never just be normal and select a run-of-the-mill crusader. Oh no, he had to pick a ‘hero’ who, in conjunction with millions of his closest ant friends, had brought villains to justice by hoisting them over their heads and marching the bad guys off to prison.

A swift kick to the side of the sofa didn’t produce the instantaneous effect I’d hoped for. Instead of being jarred to a vertical position, Kyle casually opened his eyes, yawned, and stretched an arm out in front of him, reminiscent of a cat waking from a daylong slumber. Was he really napping during my bachelor party? What a dick. I pushed his leg off the armrest. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but when you lie like that, it totally shows your junk.”

Kyle sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I think the word you were searching for was ‘Hello.’”

“Shouldn’t you be out there saving the world from crumbs?”

“Ooh, good one.” Kyle faked a laugh. “Perhaps you’re uninformed, but Ant-Man is a very complex guy with unique powers.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“He can reduce in size.”

“That’s self-explanatory.” I said, pretending to yawn. “What else?”

“Well, he can command an ant army with his special helmet.”

“To do what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, putting little to no effort into selling himself. “Ant stuff.”

“You can do better than that.”

“Okay, how about this?” The glint in Kyle’s eye was unmistakable. “He has inferiority issues when it comes to the stronger, more powerful, and more handsome heroes who always outshine and underestimate him. Sound familiar?”

A grin spread across my face. “I love your costume, man.”

“That’s more like it,” he said, matching my expression. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing. I’m trying to escape Dad.”

Kyle nodded as if he completely understood my reasoning. “Ah, yes, the infected, ingrown hair on his butt cheek.”

“What? No.” Damn, that man needed supervision when he ventured into public spaces. “Why would he be advertising that?”

“I mean as far as abscesses go, it is fairly impressive.”

“I don’t care if it’s the size of a small country, I don’t want that thing anywhere near me. I’m already traumatized enough.”

“Do you want to tell Ant-Man about it?”

“Why not? It involves your insect brothers, so you might have a unique perspective. Dad just managed to connect marriage to the most disturbing Animal Planet fact ever. Did you know the male honeybee’s testicles explode after he mates with the queen bee?”

“Whoa, dude, that’s brutal. I need to watch Animal Planet more often.”

“Yeah, me too. Anyway, his point was that marriage is similarly terrifying. Apparently, once I get married, Casey will transform into a queen bee, absorb my genitals, and keep me at her mercy forever.”

“Yikes,” Kyle said with a dopey grin on his face. “Good luck with that.”

“Right? Anyway, the part I don’t get is what would the incentive be to knock up the queen?”

“Are we talking about you or the honeybee right now?”

I smiled. “The honeybee.”

“I think we both know the incentive,” Ant-Man theorized. “At least he dies happy, right?”

“But does he, Kyle? Really? I mean, his nards detonate into a bloody mess and then he drops dead. I can’t imagine that being a satisfying climax.”

Kyle studied me as if he actually had something profound to say, but then he opened his mouth and ruined the moment. “I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Everyone knows when you get married, you don’t use your balls all that often anyway.”

I took in that smug expression on his face but consoled myself with the knowledge that he didn’t have all that much wiggle room either. The way his relationship with Kenzie was going, he didn’t seem too far off from walking down the aisle himself. Maybe when it was his nutsack on the front lines, he’d have more compassion for my situation.

* * *

I nearly smacked Quinn with the door on the way into the bathroom.

“Oh, shit. What were you doing behind the door?” I complained.

“Um, exiting,” he said, appearing amused by his comeback.

“Well, don’t do that around me. It’s creepy.”

“Sorry, next time I’ll send you a text when I’m finished pissing.”

Quinn made a grand gesture of stepping back to allow me entrance. I took a quick pass at him with my eyes. He was also dressed up as Superman but, unlike Lassen, he filled out his costume like it was an actual fitted glove. I was still having trouble grasping the fact that my youngest brother was all grown up and standing a couple of inches taller than me. I’d always viewed Quinn as a little kid, but now, at eighteen years of age, he was anything but. Packing a solid twenty pounds of muscle and rockin’ the disheveled hairstyle, baby Quinn was putting the rest of us McKallister boys to shame.

“I hear Kyle’s looking to kick your ass.”

“Yeah. I told him my theory, and he freaked out and tried to hit me with the hammer.”

“What’s your theory?”

“Just that he picked his costume to complement his ant-sized package.”

“Ah. Now I’m getting a clearer picture.”

“Anyway, no way could he beat my ass. I can take him down in an instant.”

“I don’t know, Quinn, Kyle’s scrappy.”

“And you think I’m not?”

It was hard to ignore the challenge in his voice, but I forced myself not to take the bait. Quinn and I hadn’t been getting along all that well lately, and the last thing I wanted tonight was confrontation. He followed me back into the bathroom… okay, it looked like I was getting company. Thankfully, Quinn honored the bro code by averting his eyes so I could relieve myself. Too bad he didn’t think to keep the chitchat down to a minimum.

“Sooo,” he said, elongating the word, “I’m still waiting on the songwriting session you’ve been promising me for over a year now. Any idea when that might happen?”

Oh, crap. Not this again… and certainly not at this very moment. “I’m pissing, Quinn.”

“Sorry. Please continue.”

Now that he’d graduated high school and was no longer under the iron rule of our mother, Quinn was focused solely on his music career and rallying for a spot as an opening band for the opening band on my next tour. We weren’t exactly seeing eye-to-eye on the issue. By using good old-fashioned nepotism, he and his band wanted to sidestep the process of actually earning a spot on a successful tour. There was something to be said for hard work, though, and if Quinn’s only route to fame was by piggybacking off mine, he wouldn’t have a lasting career.

I hadn’t even finished buttoning up my jeans before he was back on the same line of questioning.

“So?”

A heavy sigh was my only reply.

“Come on, Jake. Just give me thirty minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking.”

No. He was asking for a lot more than that. “I’m getting married in a couple of hours. Can we postpone your future for another day?”

“You’ve been postponing for as long as I’ve been asking,” my brother said, kicking around a paper towel on the floor with the toe of his shoe. “Pretty soon you’ll run out of excuses. I mean, it’s a yes or no question. How hard can it be?”

“In that case, no.”

My brother’s eyes narrowed into angry slits. “You’re such an asshole sometimes, Jake. You act so high and mighty, but you’re not all that.”

I didn’t like the accusation in his words. For the first time, I realized there was more to his resentful attitude than just being a surly teen. “What’s up with you?”

“You want to know what’s up? I’m tired of you treating me like I don’t matter. Anytime I bring up music, you brush me off like I’m some kid with delusional dreams. Well, I’ve got news for you, dickhead, I’m going to be a musician whether you like it or not.”

“Be my guest. It’s not like I’m trying to stand in your way.”

“It’s not? Because from where I’m standing, it sure looks that way. All I’m asking for is a little of your time, and that’s too much for you to spare.”

“You don’t want time, Quinn. You want a handout. There’s a difference. I did it on my own. Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m not you, Jake! I don’t have a built-in tragedy to impress the judges.” Immediately Quinn’s face creased as he winced at his own words. “That… I didn’t mean that.”

But his piercing words had already hit their mark, and through bared teeth, I snarled back at my brother. “Fuck you! I know what you meant.”

“That’s not… I didn’t.”

“Save it, Quinn. Find yourself another sugar daddy. I quit!”

“You can’t quit something you never were.” Quinn pushed off the basin and brushed past me on his way to the door; then stopped abruptly and walked back. “No. You know what? I’m tired of you acting like you’re the only one who suffered. Did you forget that I grew up in the eye of your fucking hurricane?”

“Oh, well, shit, Quinn, I’m sorry if my suffering offended you. I should have been more sensitive to your delicate needs.”

Looking about ready to explode, my little brother stood there clamping his hands into fists. I waited for his screaming reply, but somehow he held onto his temper. In an even tone of voice, he said, “Actually, I changed my mind. I don’t need or want your help anymore. I’m done begging for your time.”

A sudden draw of air turned our attention toward the door just as Finn, my sister’s fiancé, strode in. Upon eyeing the two of us in our impromptu pissing match, Finn didn’t skip a beat. “Hey, guys. I hear this is where all the dicks hang out.”

His comment was unexpected enough to draw a snort of laughter from me. I glanced at Quinn in hopes the joke had evoked a comparable reaction and our argument would be over, but there was no levity in his terse stance. In fact, my sudden amusement set him in motion. Quinn headed for the exit, kicking the garbage can into the wall on his way to the door.

“That’s just the attitude I want on my tour,” I said to his exiting back, succeeding in doing nothing more than pouring fuel on the fire.

He spun around, his jaw tense and twitching, and I waited for a volley of grenades to be lobbied in my direction; but again, Quinn refrained from comment, choosing only to flip me off as he disappeared from view.

“Whoa,” Finn said, his eyes twice their normal size. “What’s gotten into him?”

“Apparently, I’m not making him famous fast enough.”

“Ah, like you did for me?”

“Right.”

After introducing Finn to my agent, his career as an actor had taken off, and he’d just wrapped up a supporting role in a major studio movie. But the difference between him and my baby brother was that Finn had put in the work. He’d struggled for years and paid his dues and now, finally, things were happening for him. There was no better way to appreciate success than to fight for it.

Quinn didn’t get that. He saw my early success and pointed to it as reason enough for him to get moving. But my experiences as a young musician had scarred me, and I didn’t want that for him. My brother needed more than just talent and looks to make it in the business… he needed grit, and from what I could see of his coddled existence, he had none.

I settled my attention back on Finn, who was appropriately dressed in a Spiderman costume, seeing as he was the human version of that specific hero. A former stuntman who specialized in jumps and wall-climbing, he could scale any surface with ease. Although after the arrival of his four-month-old daughter, he’d been spending a lot more time with his feet planted firmly on the ground.

Finn was a hands-on dad and had taken to fatherhood with ease. He adored his little girl like nothing I’d ever seen. His devotion as a father was one of the things that scared me about taking the next step with Casey. As soon as we were married, she’d want to start a family, and as much as I wanted that myself, I was genuinely concerned over the type of father I’d be. Most men went through life without ever knowing what they were made of. I, unfortunately, couldn’t say the same.

Shaking off the uncomfortable thoughts, I asked Finn, “Where’s your sidekick?”

For the past hour he’d been on daddy duty with a picture-perfect Gerber baby strapped to his chest. I suppose if you had to wear an infant around, my niece Indiana wasn’t a bad one to put on. In fact, I’d argue she was the cutest baby ever to rock a superhero bachelor party. Clad in a Supergirl onesie, with a head full of wispy, light brown curls, Indy was as cherubic a little champion as they came.

“Your dad’s got her. He knew I was about to bring Indiana back to Emma, so he talked me into taking a piss just so he could delay her departure time a few more minutes.”

“Sounds about right. He’s actually scaring me with all that impromptu singing he’s been doing. I mean the minute she’s in his arms, it’s like he turns into Barney the Dinosaur.”

“Finally! Thank you. I’ve been trying to figure out who he reminds me of.” Finn laughed. “Anyway, I’ve got to wrap things up because Emma’s expecting the baby back, and if I don’t deliver the goods, it’s on my head.”

“You too?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, it just seems everyone I know is totally whipped by their woman. I expected more from you.”

“Really? Have you met your sister?”

“That’s true. Lucky for me, I picked a less complicated girl than you.”

Finn scoffed at that. “Every girl is complicated, some are just more skilled at hiding it than others. False advertising, if you ask me… like those damn erectile dysfunction commercials.”

Oh god, I felt a honeybee story coming on.

“They give men a false hope of what a long-term relationship looks like. You know how they go – the pretty, smiling trophy wife doting on her man while serving up hors d’oeuvres and rubbing his back… all while he watches the big game on TV. And she’s happy to do it. I mean, perfection, right? WRONG. That shit’s not real. What human male has ever lived that fantasy? Not one… ever in the existence of human males. We’re talking not even cavemen, okay?”

“Well, cavemen didn’t have televisions… or, you know, hors d’oeuvres.”

“Focus, man!”

As he said that, Finn started stripping at the urinal. His costume was essentially an adult-sized onesie, and required a partial undress just to empty his bladder. We were friends, but not that good of ones. I turned away.

“You see,” Finn continued the discussion as he peed, “the commercials aren’t going to show real life scenarios. Where are the tampon wrappers in the trash? Or the home-cooked meal she makes that’s so nasty you wouldn’t even feed it to the neighbor’s dog, who barks all night while the baby’s sleeping?”

“I feel like you’re talking about yourself now.”

“I’m talking about all of us, Jake. We need to drop these lofty expectations of marriage. Sometimes she’s going to be a bitch and sometimes you’re going to be an ass, and all of the time the neighbor’s dog will bark, but you make it work because you love each other and she’s the only woman you want.”

Finn shook it off and redressed. “My point is, if she makes you happy, who cares if you’re whipped?”

“You’re missing my point, man. I’m not whipped, nor will I ever be.”

“Oh, okay,” Finn said, eyebrows arched high in amusement. “I thought I saw the movie La La Land on your phone the other day. Maybe I was wrong.”

“That,” I mumbled, looking away in shame, “wasn’t mine.”

“Right. Of course. And the ruffled, powder blue comforter with all those flowery pillows on your bed was your idea, then?”

“I…”

“Uh-huh. And the potpourri in the bathroom that smells like an Abercrombie model took a shit… also your brilliant mind at work?”

I hesitated. He was right. Casey was firmly in control of my masculinity. She’d taken over my whole damn house even though she didn’t even officially live there. I was already a goddamn honeybee drone, and we weren’t even married yet. “Well, fuck.”

We left the bathroom, and the minute we turned the corner, my father was there, flying Supergirl down the narrow hallway. Indiana’s eyes, wide as saucers, conveyed her pleasure with the activity by flailing her arms wildly. In the few short months Indiana had been on this earth, the two had formed an unbreakable bond. It was as sweet as it was irritating.

“Is she not the cutest baby you ever saw?” he asked, but didn’t bother to wait for a reply as he took off with her back down the hallway. Finn gave chase, much to the baby, and my father’s, delight.

I grimaced in annoyance, but nonetheless followed after them, having no other direction to go.

“Does she have to go?” Dad complained, pressing his lips to Indiana’s rounded cheeks.

“Yep, it’s her bedtime,” Finn confirmed. “Time to say goodnight.”

Dad took his time baby talking to Indiana before finally returning her to her father. Still unable to keep his hands off her, he ran his fingers through her soft hair before catching Finn’s eye and musing, “You know, Finn, I’m not sure if I say this often enough, but thank you for having unprotected sex with my daughter.”

Clearly taken off guard, Finn blinked back his amusement and answered in question form. “You’re welcome?”

* * *

After seeing off Finn and Indiana, I was intercepted by my brother from another mother, Mitch. Had it not been for him switching up the wedding party and pairing me with Casey two years ago, I probably wouldn’t be standing here today awaiting my own nuptials.

“The Green Hornet, huh?”

“Yeah.” Mitch reddened. “I got to the costume table last.”

“Really, even behind Ant-Man?”

“Yes, surprisingly, Kyle had one of the first picks.”

“Of course he did.”

“He scares me a bit, that one,” Mitch said, amused.

I laughed. “You and me both. I mean look at him right now. What the hell’s wrong with him?”

We both looked over at our younger brother, who had taken Lassen’s black wig and tied it around his waist to give the appearance of a giant, hairy bush. Mitch and I laughed at his antics. A lot could be said about Kyle’s questionable decision-making, but even with all the accolades I’d earned over the years, there were times I wished I were him, gliding through life in an easy, fun-loving way.

“Although I have to say…” Mitch broke into my thoughts. “Kenzie seems like a good fit for him. They’re both sort of nutty in a very functional way.”

“That’s the most accurate description of them I’ve ever heard,” I agreed. “They definitely bring the fun.”

“Speaking of fun, I’m really looking forward to his best man speech tomorrow.”

“Oh, god, don’t remind me. He has one directive… don’t embarrass me.”

“Well.” Mitch gripped my shoulder. “Good luck with that, man.”

I nodded, adding a pout for a touch of humor.

“Anyway, Jake, I just wanted to tell you how happy I am for you and Casey. She’s a great girl. I know you guys will be really happy together, just like Kate and me.”

Finally, someone who wasn’t regaling me with anxiety-inducing pep talks! He and Kate seemed to have an equal, and wuss-free, relationship. Maybe I needed to hang more with manly Mitch just to even out all the other questionable males in my life… although I doubted I could spend enough time with him for any of his awesomeness to rub off on me.

After his wedding, I’d aimed to be more involved in Mitch’s life, but the reality was, I’d only seen him three times since then. It didn’t seem like a lot, but it was three times more than I’d seen him in the ten years before that. It’s not that we didn’t want to get together, but he lived in another state, and, well, life got in the way.

“How’s Max?”

“As cute as ever. He’s at a really fun age now. Talking up a storm. And you’ll be happy to know, my son can actually carry a tune, sort of like his namesake.”

I was taken aback by the last piece of information. Mitch and Kate had chosen to name their first son Maxwell Jacob, and although I’d thought it was just a coincidence they’d used my name, Dad claimed it had been deliberate. Mitch, however, had never confirmed it until just now. Why he’d chosen me was a bit of a mystery, as the two of us had never been close.

“You want to know why we named him after you, right?” Mitch said, as if reading my mind.

“I’m a little surprised, is all. Don’t get me wrong, I’m honored, but you and I… you know.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not about us, or the friendship I hope to one day have with you. It’s about your resilience and strength. Kate and I want our son to know you don’t give up when the going gets tough. Who better to look to for example than his uncle?”

Why his explanation bothered me I couldn’t say, but I lashed out accordingly. “Um… I can think of a lot of better people to look up to than me. What exactly do you plan on telling him about his uncle’s resilience? Are you going to leave out the part where I stabbed a guy to death?”

Mitch jolted at my graphic reply. See, I wasn’t the best role model, now was I? Maybe he should rethink the kid’s name. I mean it’s not like I asked for the responsibility of being a moral compass for his son. God knows I had no fucking clue what I was going to tell my own kids someday when the topic would inevitably come up, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to portray myself as some resilient protagonist.

Unfortunately, my sudden outburst altered our easygoing conversation, and now Mitch looked justifiably uncomfortable. Dammit, how much more socially awkward could I get? That’s why I needed Casey. She balanced me out and covered for me when my behavior lacked the required tact.

“Sorry. That was…” I shook my head, unable to come up with a fitting excuse. “Just sorry.”

Appearing genuinely concerned, Mitch waved off my apology while zeroing in on me and asking, “Everything okay with you?”

“Yeah. I’m just off today. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. It’s cool you named him after me, it’s just… I think you might be confusing my resilience with dumb luck.”

“Or maybe you’re confusing dumb luck with resilience. You know what they say about luck, right?”

I shook my head, not realizing it had its own saying in the first place.

“Luck is not about getting what you want, but surviving what you don’t want.”

I had no response to his words. I’d never thought of it in those terms before. If that were the case, I was the luckiest guy alive.

“Anyway…” Mitch shifted uncomfortably. We’d never had the type of relationship where heart-to-heart conversations were the norm. “Enough about that. I don’t want to upset you before your wedding. I remember being in your shoes. God, I was so nervous.”

“That’s me. All day, I’ve felt dangerously close to losing my shit.”

“In that case, if I were you, I’d keep my distance from Dad. The night before my wedding, he told me some horrifying story about…”

“The honeybee?” I shouted out, slapping my hand against the wall.

“Yes. He told you that one too?”

“Like an hour ago. I think I’m scarred for life, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah, well, I barely slept that night because I was having nightmares of my nards exploding every time I closed my eyes.”

We both laughed, bonding over our shared trauma.

“Someone needs to keep him on a leash during weddings,” I said. “Or at least warn the others.”

“Nah, I think we should keep that information to ourselves. Why should the rest of them get a free pass?”

How could I argue with that?

“Anyway, I’ve got to head to bed. Now that I have a kid, I can barely keep my eyes open past eleven o’clock.” He gripped my shoulder. “Try not to get too nervous. Go into tomorrow feeling confident, knowing that what you and Casey have together is something special.”

“Thanks, Mitch. That’s the best advice I’ve heard all day.”

* * *

The party ended shortly after, and I was escorted to my room by no fewer than a dozen superheroes. With capes flying and ridiculous kung fu moves by out-of-shape pretenders, no one was able to see past all the masked crusaders into the center of the crowd where I was conveniently ducking to keep from being seen. It seemed for now at least that Operation Pretzel was still a closely guarded secret. I’d had doubts earlier in the evening as I worried the bachelor party would be my undoing. The last thing I needed was to be photographed in a drunken stupor the night before the ceremony. Casey and I and a team of specialists had worked tirelessly to keep the specific date and location of our wedding a secret from the press. After extensive searches in the Los Angeles area, an exasperated and overwhelmed Casey off-handedly suggested having the wedding back where it all began, sort of like a retracing of the steps that led us to each other.

I’d jumped all over the idea, not only because I had a soft spot for Arizona, but also because it would force Casey to radically trim the guest list, something I’d been pushing for all along. I didn’t want or need a big star-studded event. Marrying in a quaint little church with just Casey, me, and a small group of our family and friends was the way I’d always pictured our wedding day to be.

The Avengers left me at my room with a promise to be dressed exactly the same for my wedding. Yeah, not only would that not fly with Casey but Boris would surely drop dead on the spot.

Keith stayed back after everyone had gone. I grabbed his hand and gave him a quick back-slap hug as a gesture of thanks.

“Did I do good?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. “Were you sufficiently underwhelmed?”

“I was, thank you. It was perfect. Just what I didn’t know I wanted.”

“Awesome. It’s the least I can do. You’ve always been there for me.”

A response didn’t seem necessary. We both understood his reference. Keith had, on occasion, required some special assistance that only a sum of excess money could provide, and I’d given it freely. Keith had always been my favorite charity.

“So there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” I said, hesitating as I searched for the right words.

“I know Sam will be there tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”

Samantha was Keith’s ex-girlfriend. They’d broken it off a while back, and as far as I knew, tomorrow would be the first time the two had seen each other since.

“Damn, you’re good,” I said.

“Not really. I’ve already heard from Mom and Emma, and I promised them the same thing… I won’t cause a scene,” Keith said, shaking his head. “You guys have no faith in me.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for your cooperation. I actually wanted to apologize.”

“Well, that’s new. I’m listening.”

“Just so you know, I was against inviting her. I like Sam, but you’re my brother, so my loyalty is to you. That being said, Casey and Sam are still friends, and she didn’t want to leave her out.”

“I got it, Jake. Casey called me a while back. She explained everything. It’s not a problem. I promise there will be no fireworks.”

Acknowledging him with a nod, I figured I’d try my luck and dig a little deeper. “I know it’s none of my business, but what happened between you two?”

“Apparently women get tired of waiting for their men to get their shit together. Who knew?”

Keith gave off the impression he was fine with the whole thing, but I could hear the frustration in his voice.

“What shit are you talking about?”

“What shit?” he asked, high-pitched and disbelieving. “Look at me. I’m a screw up… always have been.”

“No. That’s not the way I remember it.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you remember it?”

“You had it all, Keith. We all worshipped you. Hell, I wanted to be you.”

“I bet you’re happy that didn’t pan out.”

Keith smiled, but there was no humor behind the pleasantries.

“What’s going on with you?”

“According to ‘what’s-wrong-with-me.com,’ I’m an insecure person who abuses alcohol and drugs as a way to both fit in and self-soothe.”

“What do you have to be insecure about?”

“That’s a secret,” he said, putting his finger to his lips. “And I know you’re accustomed to bailing me out of tight spots, but this is beyond your reach.”

Crossing my arms in front of me and keeping my eyes locked on him, I let it be known that very little was outside my scope, and not only that, but secrets were my goddamn specialty. Keith faltered, clearly uncomfortable with my silent ultimatum.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “If you really want to know, it all started with Mitch.”

“Mitch?” My voice did one of those weird upturns, twisting the name into something cartoonish.

“Yeah, you know, Dad’s other son?”

“I know who he is. I’m just confused what your problems have to do with him. He lived in another state. We barely saw him growing up.”

“You barely saw him. But when we were all really young, he and his mom lived down the street. Dad had shared custody of him at the time.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“I’m not surprised. You were pretty young, maybe four or five, when they moved to Arizona. Anyway, Mitch and I had a rivalry from the start. I’m not sure how much of it was my own jealousy, but he didn’t help matters either. Everything was a goddamn competition to him, and you know me, I’m not much of a fighter. Anyway, the two of us were always jockeying for Dad’s attention. Nine out of ten times, Mitch got it. He excelled at every damn thing he tried, especially sports. Dad loved watching him play, and bragged about him to his friends. He never talked about me like that. I mean, Dad loved me and always showed it, but it never felt like he was proud of me. Then you come along with all your fucking musical prodigy perfection, and I was doomed. You see where I’m going here?”

“Yeah, I’m getting a pretty good picture.”

“All I can say is thank god for Kyle. He’s as unremarkable as I am. You know, the more I think of it, the more convinced I am that Kyle and I were pre-cum babies.”

I replied to his observation with a hearty laugh. Keith’s theory of their placement in the ejaculation cycle really would explain a few things.

“You and Mitch and all the other siblings got a full load of genetic material, but not Kyle and me, oh no. We were false starts, the opening band…”

“The appetizers before the main dish,” I added helpfully.

“Exactly.”

“The fart before the shit.”

Keith laughed and pushed me into the wall. “Okay, now you’re just being mean.”