My little brother is getting married this weekend.
Technically we’re not related, but I don’t know what else to call the Ordoynes. We grew up next door to each other, and spent more time together than most “normal” families do. There was piracy on the lake and painted boats, wooden elves and trampolines, secret agent names and spy agendas, dance parties and movie marathons and impromptu holiday performances and drunken Thanksgiving all-day kitchenfests and fried oyster po-boys on Christmas Eve. Crab boils and boo-ray. You move your meat, you lose your seat. Leave the TV on because it pays the bills in this house. Sami and Alethea, the best babysitters ever. They are our family. Dale & Ora are surrogate parents, and Devin and Megan are my little brother and sister. I don’t know how else to explain it. And we had a kick-ass childhood.
So my little brother is getting married this weekend, to the girl he’s dated forever, and I can’t wait to see them all (and give Devin hell for leaving me up the creek by myself in LA last year). The event’s taking place at Pawley’s Island, SC…about an hour and a half from volumes of memories tilled into the soil of Cold Branch Court.
It needed to be more than just a day or a weekend…it needed to be a reunion, a social gathering, and a break for the workaholic Kontis family. It needed to be a celebration — Charles’s birthday, Sami’s “promotion”, Mother’s Day, and mine and my father’s continued existence. (My dad’s started writing science fiction!) So we took a few more days off, and Mom got us a place on the beach for a long weekend.
Oh. My. God.
Sand, Surf, and Starbucks.
I ain’t never gonna wanna come home.