Everywhere, Everything. ★ STURNIOLO TRIPLETS

CHAPTER NINE

It was half past nine when we pulled off the main road and down a dark gravel path that led to a series of old wooden cabins. Street lamps that couldn't have been much taller than I was sat dimly lit on the edge of the drives, lighting the paths up to each house.

Matt pulled into the fourth driveway on the left. The cabin was made of dark wood and had hunter green shutters along each window. Our headlights passed over two white rocking chairs situated on the front porch below a sign that read 'Sturniolo.'

"Home sweet home," Matt said, parking.

"It's about time." Nick stretched his arms above his head, cracking his knuckles.

My sneakers sloshed in a small puddle when I stepped out onto the driveway. The air was crisp and smelt faintly of pine and fresh rain.

The boys had more baggage than I did. There were two carry-on suitcases full of camera and video equipment in addition to each of their large duffles packed with clothes. I slung the fraying strap of my overnight bag onto my shoulder, reaching for one of the suitcases.

"Careful, it's heavy," Chris said, shouldering his own bag.

Defiantly, I yanked on the suitcase's side handle and set it on its wheels with a thud.

"Damn, how many cameras do you need?" I shook out my wrist.

Chris chuckled. "It's always good to be prepared." He slammed the trunk of the car, leading me down the dimly lit walkway up to the cabin's front door. Matt and Nick were already inside flipping on the breaker and unloading the grocery bag of snacks they'd packed, organizing them into a white-painted cabinet.

The cabin's interior was nothing special. In fact, it looked exactly the way you'd imagine a cabin in the middle of the woods to look. Fading brown polyester carpet lined the living room. Specks of dried mud rested near the front door. A long plastic covered sofa was pressed against the wall where half a dozen photographs hung a little off center.

"You guys grew up here?" I set the bags down, closing the door behind me.

Nick was rifling through a box of Cheez-its at the kitchen island. "We spent a good chunk of our summers here as kids," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. He looked around the room.

Most of the photographs were of the boys when they were kids. Their three little bodies huddled together down by a lake or in a bathtub, their still blond hair covered in bubbles.

"Look at how adorable you three were!" I pointed at the bathtub photo.

Chris lifted the frame off the wall, turning it towards his brothers. "Can you believe we used to bathe together?" He scrunched his face.

Matt took the photo from his hands. "Don't make it weird."

After a minute, he gently placed the frame back in its spot on the wall, making sure it was straight.

The three of them looked so... at home. Chris sprawled out on the couch, the plastic cover crinkling against his pants. Nick had moved from the island to a tan recliner that looked pretty good for its age, Cheez-its box still in hand, and Matt had wandered off down a hallway.

I tapped Chris' leg gesturing for him to make room. He dropped his legs into my lap as soon as I sat.

"Sure, make yourself right at home," I joked, flicking his shin.

"As you wish." He pressed his legs deeper into my lap and I rolled my eyes. Chris was starting to feel like the little brother I never had.

I let the thought ruminate for a moment, playing out what it would've been like having a sibling who you could pick on for copying your every move and hangout with when the days got boring. A built in best friend.