Unlikely Places

Chapter 11 Don't Be A Jerk

Archer walked through the front door as I walked into the living room. The ringing of the doorbell was a perfunctory way of saying 'I'm here.' All of us went in and out of each other's places with as little ceremony as possible. We were as good as brothers and family didn't need to be let in like a guest.

I started to talk but Archer held one hand up at me to stop while his other hand fended off a boisterous Cissero. I stayed quiet while the two reacquainted themselves like long lost friends. When Cissero calmed down enough for us to be able to hear each other I tried to talk again but Archer shook his head at me.

"Hold it for when Mick and Branson get here. Noah can't make it. He had to hop on a last-minute flight. Some sort of problem with his secondary office."

I stood mute as he spoke. Mick? Branson?

"Why are they coming over?" I finally asked in an aggravated tone.

Archer sidled over to the sofa with a happy Cissero trailing along behind him. He sat and continued to pet my dog as he answered. His explanation fanned the flames of my exasperation.

"As soon as we hung up earlier I called each of them and filled them in. They were upset and rightfully so. This is serious Jackson. We need to talk about what's going on. Noah wants me to call him back after we all talk to fill him in."

I shook my head at Archer and worried my lower lip.

"It's not that big of deal," I finally huffed, as I walked over to the couch and plopped down in frustration.

"Did someone you just met outside a club suddenly show up at your house unexpectedly?" Archer asked.

I knew it was supposed to be a rhetorical question but I answered anyway.

"Yes."

Archer rolled his eyes at me. "For someone with anxiety who has trouble being around people you sure are taking this rather well," he commented with skepticism.

I gave a little laugh containing minimal humor as I replayed Saturday in my mind.

"That's debatable," I replied. "If the panic attack I had didn't give me away then the IV needle in my arm probably did."

"What the..." Archer started to say, but thankfully the ringing of the door followed by two male voices calling out interrupted him.

I knew it was only a short reprieve, though. Once Branson and Mick settled down the crap would hit the fan. It was nothing to look forward to.

The two walked into the living room, their eyes glued to me with similar expressions of 'explain yourself.' After the expected meet and greet with Cissero the two immediately turned to Archer to fill them in.

I kind of resented that. I was an adult. I could explain what had happened better than Archer. Their behavior sometimes could be frustrating and suffocating. They always seemed to forget I was a grown man, too. I wondered if I would ever stop being their 'little brother.'

Though I couldn't deny that I completely appreciated their categorical support of me and their steadfast and true friendships. It could just get heavy handed sometimes and embarrassing. Like now.

I also couldn't completely fault them. They had some legit concerns considering Pierce's conduct on Friday night and even showing up as he had done on Saturday. He had made some dubious behavior choices himself, for sure.