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“Dudes! Uncle Turner, Uncle Dalton. I’m gonna be a dad.” Brett went from exuberance to shock from the beginning to the end of his little speech.

“Holy shit,” Dalton said.

“That’s what I said.”

We closed the store quickly, Brett picking up and asking questions about a million toys while he waited, then we bundled up and headed out. We had a moment of awkwardness since both brothers had driven to the boardwalk. I went with my best friend, of course, Dalton following behind his brother and me, which felt very wrong.

We parked in the driveway and entered through the front door, like I’d done a million times before. I remembered the first time, Brett insisting I visit the beach and me happy to avoid going home for a week during winter break.

Brett sprinted ahead to where the family was gathered in the living room, receiving much fanfare, and I walked in more slowly, waiting for Dalton to catch up. Dalton squeezed my wrist as he entered, dropping it quickly but sticking close to me as Mallory bounded our way and gave us both big hugs.

“Uncle Turner! Uncle Dalton, there you are.” That was all she got out before her sister yanked her away.

“Congratulations,” I yelled after her, and she turned, sharing a bright, happy smile. Dalton wrapped his hand around my wrist again and tilted his head. He dragged me to the mud room, closing the door and kissing me while he unzipped my jacket.

“Dalton,” I warned.

“What? We can leave our coats in here.” He pecked my lips again and removed his own jacket, yanking his cap off, his shorter hair sparking all over the place. I ran my hands through it while he pulled my hat off, to similar effect.

“We’re electric.”

I mussed his hair one more time and ran my hand through mine. “We’re a mess.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone will be paying much attention to us tonight, Uncle Turner!”

“Did you really come back to the toy store to tell me?”

“Well, you didn’t answer your phone. And Brett was waiting for you to get here. I didn’t know he was headed your way.”

“You were totally going to tell me.”

“Maybe.” Dalton shrugged, and I laughed.

“Let’s get out there.”

We found our way to the living room and to Mallory’s smiling dad, who waved us over to the bar someone had set up on the credenza that usually held Christmas decorations during the winter season. He poured two flutes of champagne and shoved them at us.

“Here you go, boys. We’re celebrating!”

I looked at Dalton.

“Cheers,” he said.

“Congratulations, Uncle Dalton.”

“Congratulations to you, Uncle Turner. You know, I wasn’t kidding about there being other gossip. I have to tell you about Aus. And do you remember the author …” Before Dalton could elaborate, the front door opened, and Anita and Wyatt walked into the room.

“I heard there was a party going on!” Anita shouted from the entryway.

“Anita,” I said. I squeezed Dalton’s wrist that time, and he nodded in agreement as I made my way across the room, him following behind.

“Welcome home.”

“Merry Christmas, son.” She hugged me tight, then pulled back to look at me. “Things are good, then?”

“Bookstore’s doing great, but we need to talk about …”

“That’s not what I meant.” She patted my cheek. “Tomorrow for business. You’re doing good. I can tell. You can tell me all about the shit numbers the toy store and ice cream parlor are bringing in, and we’ll figure all of that out, don’t you worry.” She held my face in her hands and looked at me as only a mother could. “But you look happy, Turner. Tell me you’re happy.”