On an Edge of Glass

talking loudly.  The smallest one is up on his feet reaching for the salt shaker.  He’s wearing a dark blue baseball hat.
    I’ve seen pictures of these brothers in Ben’s room back at school, so I already know that the Hamilton boys look eerily similar, but I still have to laugh when they look up in unison.  All of the boys have matching faces and dark hair.  Ben smirks like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
    “Ridiculous, right?” He whispers as he comes up beside me. 
    After a quick hug that takes me by surprise, Lisa hands me a ceramic plate piled with scrambled eggs, a croissant and three strips of bacon, and ushers me toward the table. 
    Ben gestures to an open chair and I sit .  Introductions are handed out.  I nod to each of the brothers.  Asher, Logan, Blake and Kyle. 
    Asher, second oldest, leans over and shakes my hand.  He’s seventeen, a senior in high school, and clearly the cockiest of the group.  I get the distinct impression that Asher is accustomed to having girls throw themselves at his feet on a regular basis.
    “I’m varsity,” he informs me with a flirty wink.  “For both lacrosse and baseball.”
    I nod my head and hope that I’m maintaining a distinctly impressed expression. 
    “I’m sure that Ellie doesn’t care what sports you play Ash,” Ben says grittily.  He sits down in the seat next to me. 
    Asher flicks a challenging look at his older brother . “I think maybe she does.”
    They both loo k at me.  I school my features to be non-committal and shove a piece of bacon in my mouth. 
    Ben lowers his shoulders and clears his throat.  “Asher, just stick with high school girls to flirt with, okay?  Trying to charm Ellie is just pathetic.” 
    “Jealous much?”  Asher puts down his fork.  “Anyway, you already told me that she’s not your girlfriend anymore, so what do you care if I flirt with her?  Unless you want her to be your girlfriend…”
    Logan, fifteen and not quite filled out yet, looks ready to choke on his bacon.  Ben narrows his eyes at his brother as he stirs sugar into his coffee.  Asher responds by stretching his arms back over his head so that we all catch a glimpse of his muscled stomach.
    “Asher…”  Lisa says with that particular mom tone.
    “What?” Asher complains.  “I’m just getting things straight!”
    Lisa sets her lips into a thin line and urges the boys to finish up.  Unlike Ben and me, they’ve all got school today. 
    “Enough, Asher.”
    “Fine,” he mumbles. “But whenever she’s interested, I’ll be here.”
    When Lisa goes upstairs to get her purse and keys, I lean toward Asher.  “You do know that I can hear you, right?  I’m sitting two feet away from you.”
    Ben chuckles.
    “What?”  Asher shrugs. “I just wanted to make it clear that this Hamilton brother is available if you’re inclined.”
    “I’ll take that under advisement,” I say.
    Five minutes later, Ben and I have successfully convinced his mother to let us clean up the dishes.  She cradles a pile of papers against her chest and pushes the boys toward the door.  
    “Just so you know,” Kyle, the youngest, says to me as he rounds the corner to the front hall.  “I play basketball.” 
    Blake , thirteen and clearly just getting out of the awkward acne phase slaps Kyle over the head.
    “Dude.  What was that for?” Kyle picks up his hat from the floor and readjusts the strap of his backpack.
    Blake bows his head low trying to hide his smile.
    When the fr ont door slams shut behind them, Ben and I look at each other at the same time and start cracking up.  It feels good to laugh like this.  To let all of the air whoosh out of my lungs, and feel the pang from it in my abdominal muscles.   
    Eyes lit up and s till grinning, Ben asks me, “What do you feel like doing today?”
    It doesn’t matter.  I’m happy for the first time in awhile—eager for the feeling of this bright sunshine that’s pouring over the two of us. 
    “I don’t care,” I say.
    Ben shakes his head.  “I don’t either.”
     
     

CHAPTER TWENTY- TWO
    Greetings From Asheville
     
     
    At noon, we’re bundled in warm clothing, trying to decide where to eat as we wind down a narrow street.  We pause in front of a green menu board set up on the sidewalk in front of a tiny café.  The building is outlined by a dark blue canopy.  There’s a small chime dangling from above the doorway that makes a delicate tinkling sound every