Flipping Hearts

Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

Peyton's POV

I held my head when I sat up, hoping to stop the little man pounding my head from the inside, and quell the nausea at the same time. Damn, whiskey hangovers are nothing to laugh at. Seeing my jeans on the floor confused me, since I had no recollection of taking them off. Hell, it was a little fuzzy how I made it from the warm car to the couch at mom's house. Fuzzy memories of resting my head on Jack's strong shoulder during the quiet, spinning ride home, came back making my cheeks burn. Nice, I got wasted and then half-ass passed out. Way to keep it classy, Pey.

My mom was sitting at the kitchen table when I made my way in for some coffee,her typically flawless feathery hair sticking up in every direction, belied her night with the boys. "Hi mom."

"It's been a long time since I've found one of my kids passed out on the couch," she said, smiling into her coffee cup. "Did you have a good time?"

My stomach lurched, I would need to eat soon or she would be privy to some show stopping gastrointestinal pyrotechnics and some amazing gaggy noises. "It was okay. I need food ASAP."

I dug into the fridge and pulled out the container of left over hot Dago meat. "Your son is a dick head," I said in a matter of fact way as I scooped meat and sauce into a shallow bowl for the microwave to warm up for me.

"What did he do now?" Mom chuckled. I topped off her coffee cup after pouring myself a cup.

"He just is." I didn't want to discuss the ways my 'amazing' and 'perfect' brother pissed me off. The microwave dinged signaling my morning pig out was ready. I sat back down across from my mom to dig into my food. As the weight of the meat filled my stomach I began to feel better. I noticed the lack of chaos. "Are the boys still here?"

"They're in the playroom watching a movie. Danny will be here in a little while. He's going to look at my garage door."

"Why didn't you ask me to look at it?" My stomach dropped. I'm a home renovator, why didn't she ask me? Is Danny better at home repair than me too?

"Because I didn't babysit your triplets."

I stared into my coffee cup as if I were reading magical tea leaves floating in the ancient Elvis mug. My shoulders relaxed to hear it wasn't because my mom doubted I could handle the small project. I hated this lack of confidence in my professional abilities. Every time I thought I had a handle on my self doubt, one little comment could spiral me into self doubt. "When will he be here? I want to yell at him."

"He's coming for the boys around ten."

I looked at the clock and decided I had time to run home to freshen up. "Do you want help in the garden today? I'd love to spend the day with you."

Mom clasped her hands together a bright smile lighting up her face. "I would love that, honey."

"Okay. I'll be back in an hour so. I have to wash the whiskey out of my pores." I grinned and kissed her goodbye.

Driving across town to my tiny ranch style house on the edge of Rum River Falls, my head pounded like a little man was using an automatic nail gun in there. Knowing a shower and some fries from McDonald's would make a world of difference, I trudged into the house, knowing in less than a half hour I'd be shoving hot fries down my throat.

I hopped into the shower and scrubbed every inch of my skin with minty scented body gel. I swore I saw a swirl of whiskey make its way toward the drain. My thoughts drifted straight to Jack. Remembering his hug at the bar released butterflies in my belly, making me smile like a goofy teenager. Get a damn grip on yourself.