Darn Knit All (All Access #3)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

THEO

Theo

Have you ever tried hot dogs with ramen noodles?

Mai

Absolutely not

Theo

Do you want to? It's on the menu tonight

Mai

Absolutely—and I cannot emphasize this enough—NOT!

I parked my car in the Garrett-Harris Paper lot, my hands flexing on the steering wheel. For the last ten-plus years, I’d worked as the head line supervisor, supporting my brother to bring the company back from the brink of insolvency.

It had been hard work turning around a failing business and making our paper products sustainable. Our father had driven the place into the ground before we’d taken it on, fighting to ensure our workers would still have jobs. When Annie Harris had bought into the business, I’d been apprehensive. There’d been a lot of dirt lying between my twin and his ex-girlfriend—most of it unresolved.

Thankfully, it had all worked out. The lucky bastard had won her over through grit and determination, and our business had thrived under their leadership. While I couldn’t be happier for him—for them—I often felt like a third wheel in this partnership.

Making paper products hadn’t exactly been on the top ten things I’d do with my life list. Once upon a time, I’d planned to play ball at college, maybe try for the pros, and if that failed, I’d become an occupational therapist or something. Life had a way of fucking with your plans.

I’d spent the last decade of my life between these walls, working on the operations floor and supporting our staff. I’d been content with my life, resigned to the fact that while not glamourous or exciting, the work had purpose.

But lately, I’d felt a yearning to do something different. Exactly what, I had no idea.

“Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, climbing out of the car.

Had anyone ever asked what I wanted in life, most people might assume I’d request a new leg, or perhaps a million dollars.

Nope. All I wanted was to not be a twin.

Not because I didn’t love my brother. Fuck, I’d lay down my life for the guy.

I just hated how fucking difficult it was seeing someone who looked like you, who had similar experiences and the exact same upbringing, get his shit together, fall in love, get married, have kids, and live his happily ever after.

He had the life I wanted—as a dedicated partner, with a fulfilling job, and a bundle of kids—and it sucked ass watching a guy who had your face present you with a play-by-play of everything your heart desired. Seeing him with Annie and the kids made me feel like a voyeur to a life I could have—if only I tried harder or made better choices.

There were seven billion people in this world, and I had yet to meet one person who cared enough to want to settle down with me.

Maybe I was the problem.

“Fuck, get it together, Garrett.” I shoved through the doors of the office building, calling greetings as I headed toward our shared office.

Our tired and worn gray office had been transformed into a colorful, warm space. There was life in these walls, people wanted to work here and enjoyed being involved with the growth of the company. I could take credit for some but not all of it. Most should be attributed to Annie and Linc, who’d put in the hard work and made the connections to drag us kicking and screaming from the dark ages.

But if anyone asked, I’d own the glory. After all, isn’t that what younger brothers are meant to do? Ride on the coattails of their older sibling.

I shoved through the office door only to be greeted by a cacophony of naked limbs.

I should have knocked first.

“Jesus!” I smacked a hand over my poor abused eyes, twirling to give my brother and his wife some privacy. “Again?”

I heard them scrambling for their clothes, knocking shit off their desk and no doubt causing an absolute mess.

“Sorry!” Annie called, sounding unsurprisingly unapologetic. “It’s just?—”

“You’re trying for baby number three, I know .”

God did I know. The two of them were like horny rabbits. Give ’em half a second alone and they were humping like their lives depended on it.

Though, I guess in the scheme of creating another human, one potential life did depend on their rumpy-pumpy action. Still, I didn’t need to be treated to an X-rated peep show every five minutes.

I opened my fingers a fraction, twisting to see if they’d put themselves to right. “I thought we agreed the office would be a sex-free zone.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Linc muttered, stuffing his shirt into his jeans. “Pretty sure I’d have remembered that being added to the employee handbook.”

“It’s under page three.” I reached out to pull the manual from our office bookshelf and tossed it at him. “Right under the workplace health and safety standards.”

Linc caught the book, placing it on his desk. “We should probably remove it. Or at least add an addendum that the ban only applies to the warehouse and break room.” He leaned in to kiss Annie. “God knows I can’t afford another write up.”

“Don’t like the way you’re punished?” Annie asked, laying a hand on his chest. “You didn’t have any complaints last?—”

“Enough!” I stuck my fingers in my ear, making a la-la-la sound.

Annie tossed her mass of golden hair, laughing. She reminded me of a starlet from the early years of Hollywood—full-bodied and glowing. While she lived with Crohn’s disease, in the last year she’d switched up her medication, and the change had given her more pain-free days and more energy. She practically vibrated with verve these days, and I loved that for her.

Annie flicked me the finger. “I’ve gotta get home anyway.” She blew a kiss at Linc. “Don’t stay too late.”

She leaned in to kiss me, but I screwed up my face, shoving her away gently. “Don’t touch me with those sex-stained lips, lady! You might be my favorite sister-in-law, but that doesn’t give you the right to be spreading your sex germs all over the place.”

Laughing, she flicked the side of my head with her finger. “You’re terrible.”

“But you still love me.”

“Occasionally.”

She blew a final kiss to Linc and left, leaving me to watch my brother watch his wife walk away with a tiny love-struck smile.

“Dude.” I shook my head. “You’ve been married for three years. You have kids. Shouldn’t you be over fucking-like-rabbits by now? Surely, you’re moving into the quickie-missionary-while-the-kids-are-watching-cartoons-on-a-Sunday stage?”

“God forbid.” Linc perched on the edge of my desk. “Isn’t today your day off?”

“Mm.”

An electric shock pulsed up the damaged nerves of my amputated limb. The false flag signals indicated I had a cramp in my non-existent calf.

Again?

Phantom pain had become a familiar part of my life. It varied between shooting and burning pains, to full-on cramps. I’d never tell anyone but my therapist, but I sometimes imagined it as a ghost limb, following me around like a specter, desperately trying to reattach itself and reclaim the life it should have had.

Not at all morbid.

Well used to the sensation, I began the process of removing my prosthetic, gritting my teeth against the pain.

“You okay?”

“Cramp,” I managed to bite out. “It’ll pass.”

Linc reached over my desk, pulling a wheat bag from the top drawer of Annie’s desk. “I’ll get this. You need some pain relief?”

I shook my head.

In my last year of high school, I’d made the mistake of accepting a ride from our dad. Walter wasn’t the kind of guy one could rely on. Drunk and a little high, he’d driven us straight into a power pole. The bastard had walked out practically unscathed while I’d lost my right lower limb. Ending at the knee, the leg was the one major difference in appearance between my twin and me.

Not so identical.

The incident changed the trajectory of my life. Medical bills, hospital costs, therapy, not to mention the changes that were required to my house to make it functional. The life I thought I’d have, the life I’d wanted to live, had been taken away.

I’d long ago made peace with my reality, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t grieve. There is a grief that comes with knowing there are paths of your life that you’ll never walk. You can mourn the dreams you had for yourself, and the experiences you envisioned that won’t be achieved, while still finding joy in the decisions you choose to pursue.

Fuck me, I’m a morose bastard today.

Well used to my occasional muscle spasms, Linc returned with the warmed heat pack, handing it to me to lay over my rigid, throbbing muscles.

“Thanks.” I dug my thumbs into the spasming tissue. “I need to talk to you.”

Linc settled against my desk, his expression carefully blank. “Shoot.”

I knew that expression. I despised it.

It was his, I - want-to-help-make-everything-better-but-I-know-better-than-to-offer look. It was the worst, second only to his, I-wish-it-had-been-me-in-that-car look. He tried to hide it but was never quite successful.

“I need to take some leave.”

Linc’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, when were you thinking?”

“Two weeks.”

“Uh-huh. And for how long?”

This would be the true test of our relationship. “At least six weeks.”

“What?” Linc spluttered. “Six weeks?”

I sighed silently. Dropping my head, I watched my thumbs massage my flesh. “Mai needs help with something. I said I’d do it.”

“For six weeks?”

“I know it’s asking a lot?—”

Linc snorted.

“—especially at short notice. But I promised her.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What exactly did you promise?”

Heat crept up my neck as I muttered my response.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

I cleared my throat. “We’re going on a reality TV show.”

“Like a singles show or something?”

I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, I’m not that desperate.”

“I beg to differ. How many dates have you been on this year?”

I shrugged. “One has to kiss a lot of….” I paused, trying to think of a polite alternative to the gross use of an amphibious creature. “Friends before finding their forever.”

“If not a dating show, then what?”

I hesitated. “A game show.”

“Like trivia?”

“Kind of?”

“An adventure game show?”

I cringed. “Not quite.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Theodore, you’re being deliberately obtuse.”

“You know I fucking hate that name.”

“Then tell me exactly what you’ve signed up for.”

“It’s a fashion show.” I swallowed hard, bracing myself for the forthcoming roasting.

For a beat my brother stared at me, his face stupefied. He shook his head as if to clear it. “Sorry, I must have passed out. Did you say fashion ?”

I nodded, wincing.

“And you’ll be Mai’s—what? Apprentice? Helper?”

I shrugged, not wanting to go too much into the details. “Something like that.”

“She knows you can’t sew, right?”

“I can too,” I responded, aware I sounded like a petulant toddler.

“You were in the hospital getting stitches last week.”

“Well, I can knit.”

Linc snorted. “Unless you’re asked to knit a whole-body scarf condom, I’m doubtful you’ll be of much assistance.”

“You make one Christmas gift….”

Linc pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely not,” I replied cheerfully. “But Mai needs me.” The cramping in my leg eased, the heat of the wheat pack calming the frantic muscles. I leaned back in my seat. “And I promised.”

“I still find it strange she asked you. Why not Flo or Frankie or Annie?”

I didn’t feel comfortable telling him about my new loved-up status without first speaking to Mai. I wanted to protect her from the scrutiny our fake relationship would bring for as long as possible.

I held up my hand, ticking off the short list of names on my fingers. “Flo doesn’t sew and has her own business. Annie has the twins and you, not to mention this.” I waved a hand around to encompass our office.

“There’s still Frankie.”

I snorted. “Frankie is an awesome individual, don’t get me wrong. But she also has her own business, clients, her podcast, and TV show, and do you really think Jay would let her go away for six weeks to a place where he can’t reach her? This is a no-contact situation.”

Linc shrugged. “If the guy thought Mai needed her, sure.”

“Well, she asked me.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Doesn’t she want to win?”

Buddy, you have no idea.

“I assume so.” I spread my arms out. “And who says I can’t be useful?”

Linc’s eyebrows rose. “Have you ever made anything?”

“There was that one shirt.”

“If memory serves, didn’t it disintegrate on the first wear?”

I waved my hand dismissively. “It was meant to do that. I like to call it recyclable fashion. You get to reuse the fabric and turn it into something new after every wear.”

“Uh-huh,” Linc said, looking utterly unconvinced. “That explains why it fell apart mid-dinner.”

I shrugged. “Prototypes always have some kinks to work out.”

“You’re determined to do this?”

I nodded.

“Well, fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Guess I better see about replacing you.”

My tension eased. “You sure?”

“No. But I’m gonna do it anyway because I love your annoying ass, and you haven’t asked for a day off in three years. You took on the bulk of operations for the business after the twins were born, and I appreciate that. The least I could do is support you to do whatever the fuck it is you think you’re doing.”

I chuckled. “Look I didn’t say it was a good idea. I expect we’ll be eliminated the first week, but either way, I have to try.”

“Have to or want to?”

I shrugged. “Mai asked, so I’m gonna do it.”

Linc crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze considering. “It’s like that, is it?”

Jesus, what was it with people wanting to drill down on my relationships today?

“I would ask ‘like what’ but” —I stood, tossing him the heat pack—“I gotta get going. There’s a lot to organize before I leave for God only knows where.”

“You’ve applied for leave, and you know I’ll look after the house. What else is there?”

“I need to learn how to fucking sew.”

My brother laughed but halted me as I reached the door.

“Theo, wait.”

I glanced back, hovering in the doorway.

Linc ran a hand through his hair. “This is gonna sound shit but… while you’re away, take some time to think about what you want.” He gestured to the office around us. “This has become my dream—and it’s for sure Annie’s. I know you’re invested, but I also know you’re not happy. We’re in a good place now. I want you to be in a good place too.”

I forced out a rusty laugh. “Trying to kick me out?”

He didn’t even smile. “Never. I know you. This isn’t your dream. And that’s okay if this is just a means to an end—like if your dream is traveling or buying a house or blowing all your hard-earned cash at the casino—don’t do that though. Please.”

I leaned against the doorway, waiting for him to finish.

“The point is, I think you’ve lost sight of what you want. I want you to—between all the filming—take some time to work out what you want.” He paused. “And look, if that’s leaving here and doing something different, then shit, we’ll miss you, but you need to do something that will make you happy. You’ve sacrificed enough.”

I jerked up my chin, silently acknowledging his words.

“Okay, get out of here.” He waved me off. “I need to rewrite the staff handbook.”

I hesitated. “Linc?”

He glanced up.

“Thanks.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know that was hard to say. But I appreciate it.”

“Love you, bro.”

“Love you too.” I sighed dramatically, needing to lighten the mood. “I always knew you were the emotional one.”

He chuckled. “Get out of here. I have work to do.”

I drove home and pulled into the driveway of my rental, and sat in the car, staring at the faded weatherboard bungalow.

Linc’s words had struck a chord, unearthing a yearning question.

What do I want?

The unknown hung heavy in the air, frustratingly unreachable.

“You have time to work it out,” I reassured myself. “All the time in the world.”

I exited the car, hunching my shoulders against the cool afternoon breeze as it stirred the leaves that were just beginning to turn yellow. Soon, pumpkins and ghouls would appear, followed by mangers filled with apples—an old Astipia tradition that harked back to a time when farmers shared their harvest.

A floorboard creaked under my foot as I stepped into the house and closed my door, sealing myself inside the dim interior.

I’d moved into the bungalow when Linc and Annie had gotten serious. The temporary rental had been a place to pause until I found a better option—but somehow it had turned into a long-term arrangement.

Old furniture clashed with new purchases and peeling paint, dodgy floorboards, and threadbare rugs.

Was this really the life I wanted? Going through the motions with no passion?

“Fuck.” I closed my eyes. “Linc might be right.”

At some point, I’d lost sight of my dreams and desires. I’d put myself into a holding pattern.

My phone vibrated with an incoming text.

I pulled it from my pocket, swiping at the screen.

Mai

Distract me from my fear and doubts by brainstorming team names. I’ll start. I’m in favor of “Sew Good”

Chuckling, I hit reply.

Theo

How about “Stitched up”?

I smiled wryly, awaiting her response. This whole thing felt like a disaster just waiting to happen—and yet, I had a suspicion it might be exactly what I needed to break out of the monotonous routine I’d fallen into. Sure, I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, but somehow that made it even more appealing. The thought of diving into something so far outside my comfort zone felt good.

Mai’s reply didn’t disappoint.

Mai

Haute Mess Express

Chuckling, I shot back another response.

Theo

Seam Dream Team

Mai

The Unthreadables

Ready to out-pun her, I kicked off my shoe and flopped onto my couch, pleased to find the restless feeling Linc had stirred up had settled—at least for now.