A New Resolution
A Modern Match-Maker Romance
Rocklyn Ryder
Magpie Press
Copyright © 2019 Rocklyn Ryder
All rights reserved worldwide
No part of this book may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this book at the authorized online outlets.
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.
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A New Resolution
A Modern-Matchmaker Romance
by
Rocklyn Ryder
Blake
"Bbbbbzzzzzzzzzz!"
Colby squeals his approval and holds his arms out at his sides as I fly him through the living room.
"Mmmeeeeeeerrrrrr...woooooooooo...bdbdbdbbdbd...."
Colby giggles at the noises I'm making, "Up! Up! Up Unko Bayk!"
My nephew never gets tired of being an airplane...but Uncle Blake gets tired of being an airplane engine.
I set the two year old down on the floor, waiting till he puts his weight on his feet before I let go.
Colby looks up at me like his little toddler heart is breaking as he watches me walk across the room and grab my beer off the mantle where I left it.
Ah, who am I kidding? I never get tired of being an airplane engine! I chug the rest of the beer and set the bottle back on the mantle and then grab the kid back up in my arms and file a new flight plan through the house.
We turn and head into the kitchen, Cole buzzing grandma's head close enough to catch her kiss on his cheek before pulling up and nearly grazing the ceiling before we return back to the living room where my sister holds out her hands to take my favorite toy away from me.
"Thanks, Blake," Tanya tells me as she pulls her son from my hands like she's doing me a favor, "I'll take him now, I'm sure you're missing something important out back."
She gives me a sort of half wink as she references the annual idiot-fest that the men in our family engage in while Christmas dinner is still in the oven.
"It's no big deal, sis," I say, "you know I love playing with the little guy."
Cole looks back at me like I've abandoned him and my hands itch to snatch him back and take off with him.
I'm about to do it too when Mom's voice hails me from the kitchen, "Blake! Get in here!"
Funny how Mom can still make me feel like I'm 10 years old. At least I'm pretty sure I'm not in trouble, even if years of hearing her say my name exactly like that has my gut telling me otherwise.
"Yeah Mom?" I bend down and kiss her on the top of the head like I've been doing ever since I discovered I was able to when I was 14.
Mom laughs at me and gives me an elbow to the ribs.
"You remember Betty, right?"
Uh oh. This can't be good.
"Yeah, hey Betty," I reach across the kitchen island and all the platters of food covering it to shake Betty's hand.
"Betty's daughter just graduated from Stanford, honey," Mom tells me.
I've walked into a set up. Damn, I am in trouble.
"Stanford? Wow, Mrs. Mayo, you guys must be really proud." I try to prepare for the next few awkward moments of this conversation by reaching for a cookie.
Mom's hand shoos mine away. "You'll ruin your supper," she warns me quietly.
We've been eating these cookies since 9 this morning, I'm not sure how one more is going to ruin my appetite now but I grab a celery stalk instead.
Mom and Betty start telling me all about Sammi's new doctorate degree and I choke for a second on the celery.
Shit. Doctorate? Sammi's 2 years younger than me for fuck's sake. She's not old enough to be a doctor of anything.
While I nod and smile at Mom and her friend and wait for the inevitable suggestion that I give Sam a call and ask her out so we can "catch up on old times--" because that's how my mother and her friends operate-- I think back on what I remember about the Mayos' only daughter.
Sammi and I only saw each other a few times a year when her folks came down to visit mine. We never had anything in common really and Sam usually hung out with Tanya and her friends rather than get dirty out in the field with us boys.
I haven't seen her since high school I don't think.
I grab a handful of black olives off the veggie platter and stick my fingers into them like I did as a kid. I'll have to teach Cole how to do that. Of course, it doesn't work the way it did when I was little, my hands are too big and the soft fruit...are olives fruit? Or vegetables? I need to remember to look that up later...split on the sides as I push them onto my fingers.
Shit! 2 of the olives fall on the floor and I go after them, ducking out of Mom's reach and hitting the floor like someone opened fire in the kitchen.
5 second rule, I think as I pop one of the maverick olives into my mouth. Mom keeps a clean house, but it occurs to me that eating off the floor is probably more of an expression than a good idea. Too late, I already ate one.
I begin searching for the next olive.
I should probably go out to the barn with the men anyway. A shot of whiskey will probably kill any bacteria that I may have consumed with the olives, right?
Mom and Betty are still yattering about Sam anyway. While I try to pull up a mental image of what she looks like, I hear them above me discussing her plans for her career.
I remember Sammi as a cute but shy girl. She had long, dark hair that she wore straight. She never had any make up on, and she was as flat chested as me.
I dunno, I mentally shrug, as I start to stand back up, she wasn't bad. Just plain.
"...in June..." Betty's voice says.
"This June?" Mom sounds surprised, "That doesn't give her much time, does it?"
I spy the last olive laying by the corner of the kitchen island and half ignore Betty talking about how it's been planned since last spring and they have a professional doing all the big stuff...
"So the kids don't really have to worry about much," Betty finishes up.
"Wow," Mom says as her glass clinks against the counter over my head, "I can't believe it. A doctor and getting married in the same year!"
My head bangs against the underside of the island counter.
"Oh Blake! Are you OK, honey?" Mom puts her hand over the spot I'm holding as I stand back up.
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," I promise her, but she won't let me stand up all the way until she's gotten a good look at my head.
Not sure how much good it's gonna do seeing as how Mom's not wearing her glasses and is on probably her 3 glass of Irish Cream for the day.
"Did you hear that? Sammi's getting married in June," Mom says as she brushes my hair off my forehead with her fingers-- her way of letting me know that my head injury isn't serious and that she thinks my hair is too long. "Make sure you save the date!"
Mom and Betty both break into giggles like it's a clever little joke. If it is, I'm not in on it, and I don't stick around
to ask for an explanation.
"Sure, Mom." I kiss Mom on top of her head again. "Congrats Betty," I offer quickly as I grab another beer out of the ice chest by the fridge-- since Mom declares the fridge off limits to us guys every year-- and I practically run out the back door, heading for the barn.
Courtney
"I got him," I say to Shannon as I reach for the baby.
"It's OK, you don't have to," Shannon says but hands him off to me anyway.
My brother's girlfriend double checks to make sure I have a burp cloth and a binky, gives her son a soft pat on his back and me a look of weary gratitude before leaving me and joining Austin by the tree.
I bounce gently till Kelsey stops fussing from the hand-off and then settle in on the sofa to idly watch whatever Christmas movie my cousins have put on.
Of course, no one's watching the TV. Half the family is gathered in the kitchen, talking shit and mixing cocktails while Mom cooks in the middle of the chaos. The other half the family is out here in the living room, mixing cocktails and talking shit while the kids run wild through the house, outside, and back in again.
Dad comes in from the back patio with another load of firewood and stokes the fire back up to small inferno.
It's what Dad does.
It's 14 degrees outside but we have 27 people in the house. The oven hasn't had a chance to cool down since Mom started baking 3 days ago. Add Dad's thing for keeping the fire turned up to "sun" and we have several windows open and most everyone is standing near one to keep from melting.
Our holidays have been like this since I was little. Nothing but laughter and the sound of snow boots running across the floorboards, with the crackle of the fire, and the clink of glassware.
It's usually one of my favorite places to be at one of my favorite times of the year. But Austin brought Shannon home to meet Mom and Dad at Thanksgiving, complete with Shannon's son, Kelsey, who was only 2 months old then, and 3 year old daughter, Kendra.
After the initial shock of learning that my baby brother had not only settled down, but had settled down with a woman who'd been 3 months pregnant when they started dating, I started feeling bummed out about the holidays instead of looking forward to them.
Mom and Dad didn't even care about the long explanation behind my brother's instant family. They just reached for their new grand babies with as much enthusiasm as if the kids were actually Austin's.
Shannon still feels awkward around us, but she's only known us a month. Once she realizes that we really aren't judging her, she'll probably relax. Right now she's just overwhelmed with a new baby, a new relationship, and a new family all at once.
And my family can certainly be overwhelming.
I move Kelsey to a different position. One where I can watch his little face while he sleeps through all the noise around him. I'm fascinated by how tiny he is and how he can sleep so soundly while there's so much going on.
Speaking of a lot going on, a small gaggle of preteens run through the living room, closely followed by a soaking wet dog and several adult voices shouting at them to stop running in the house.
Like that's gonna happen!
And, sure enough, the kids just keep running, along with the chocolate lab on their heels.
My cousin's 5 year old finds me and Kelsey on the sofa and climbs up to get closer.
"Baby is sleeping?" she asks quietly as she leans against me.
"Baby's sleeping," I tell her.
"Baby's sleep a lot," she tells me authoritatively. "And poop."
That's about all she has to say on the subject and she slips off the sofa and runs off to where ever the 5 year old demographic is holding congress this evening.
Watching her leave is when I catch my brother and Shannon standing near the big Christmas tree in the front room, as far away from the crowd as they can get without going outside.
My brother has his arms around Shannon's waist and he's smiling and saying something to her between the little kisses he keeps planting along the exposed skin above the cowl neck of her sweater while she whispers something in his ear.
I've had to watch Austin make out with his girlfriends since we were teenagers. Normally I'd just roll my eyes and ignore it until I could find a way to use it against him later, but something about the way he is with Shannon is different. He doesn't look like the same boy I'm used to catching in the act of trying to cop a feel without Mom seeing. In fact, Austin doesn't look like a boy at all.
My brother looks happy and maybe a little in love.
Getting up to go help out in the kitchen, I hand the baby off to my cousin and grab a stack of plates to start setting the table for dinner.
Mom shouts through the house that the food is ready and suddenly the kitchen is mobbed by a hoard of starving relatives all reaching for serving spoons and silverware at once.
I don't know why I bother to set the table. Our family is like a tribe of barbarians once food is involved.
There are approximately 22 people over the age of 12 crowded into the kitchen of my parent's 1950s era home. I think the maximum capacity for the entire house is probably 13. I never cease to be amazed that this little kitchen has managed to stay structurally intact after every family holiday.
Mom and I wait till almost everyone has managed to get their first plate of food. We laugh and jokingly swat at hands that reach for extra rolls before everyone's had a chance to fill their plate first as we rotate out dishes of mashed potatoes and broccoli salad as they get emptied.
It's only once we've all found a place to sit that Austin clears his throat.
And it's only once I look up from the butter melting into my dinner roll that I notice why.
Shannon blushes furiously in her chair beside my brother, looking like she wants to be invisible, but there's a distinct flash from the dining room chandelier's light bouncing off something shiny on the hand that's limply holding her fork.
"Now that everyone's got their mouth full," Austin says with a wide grin, "so I can get a word in edgewise around here--" He looks over at Shannon and smiles in a way I've never seen my brother smile before, "--I just want to warn everyone that you need to budget for a trip back home again this summer."
The family watches Austin curiously as he reaches for Shannon's left hand and holds it up like she just won a fight. Shannon's face turns impossibly redder and she does her best to avoid being the center of attention by turning to meet my brother's gaze.
Tears well in her eyes and a lump forms in my throat.
"I asked this woman to marry me and she actually said yes," Austin tells us without taking his eyes off Shannon. Then he turns and glares at us, "So don't any of you scare her off!"
There's a half second of silence while we all take it in and then the eruption of congratulations and toasts being made and a couple of our cousins throwing napkins and dinner rolls at Austin along with good-natured jabs about betraying their brotherhood.
I join in the celebratory din around me but I can't help what I'm feeling.
With a few years between us and very different interests, Austin and I have never really been very competitive. It's not that I'm not over the moon for him and Shannon, it's just that I never thought my bad boy baby brother would be the first one to have a family of his own.
By the time me and my cousin, Melissa, have finished putting away left overs and filling the dishwasher, I've firmly made my first new year resolution: I'm getting married, dammit.
I don't know who it'll be or how I'm going to find him, but I'm determined that this is the last holiday season I'm doing alone.
Blake
Out behind the barn, I find most of the men in our clan doing what they usually do at our family holiday get togethers-- seeing how close they can get to a trip to the emergency room without actually missing dinner.
I count 6 cousins, 2 teenage nephews that are really my cousins' kids not actual nephews, 2 Uncles, one brother-in-law that must have snuck out while I was hiding under the kitchen c
ounter, and Dad.
Dad and his brothers are standing around a 30 gallon metal barrel, feeding a warming fire with scraps of wood from a pallet they've cannibalized, drinking whiskey, and talking about sports.
My cousin, Tim, is daring his oldest son to walk across a frozen puddle out in the field.
My pseudo-nephew gives his dad a look that reassures me that he likely has enough sense to live to see adulthood.
"20 bucks," Tim offers as he shuffles the bills in his wallet.
Kevin continues to look at him like he's out of his mind.
"Make it 30," my other cousin, Randy, says, pulling a 10 spot out of his own wallet and sweetening the pot.
I stand between my uncles at the fire barrel and only take a small sip of the whiskey as they pass the flask my way while I take in this year's version of the annual "how much does it cost to get someone to do something stupid" contest.
Kevin's younger brother has noticed there's money on the table now. I think Josh is about 14 now, just the right age to do stupid shit for the glory-- especially if there's a cute girl around, which low and behold! The neighbor's grand-daughter comes into sight right on cue, walking out of the barn and watching Josh from the doorway with her pool cue still in her hand.
Putting money on the table is just pouring gasoline on a fire.
Kevin, on the other hand, he's-- what? 17 now? I think about it for a second, decide that's right, and take a longer pull from the flask on it's next pass to me. Realizing Kevin's almost 18 makes me feel older than I ought to.
He's got a job after school with a landscaping company. He's got a truck and a girlfriend to spend his money on. I can see he's running the odds and doing the math and coming to the conclusion that a broken limb isn't worth 30 bucks.
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