This was their thing together. They played “who’s the ugliest,” insulting each other with more and more outlandish slights until they ran out of things to say. I sat on the arm of the black leather couch beside Cam and listened to Carrie and Tank rail against each other until my daughter told him he was uglier because he had stupid nipples.

Jesus… I rubbed my temples while the men howled with laughter, and Woody leaned forward to give Carrie a high five. “Good one, little toot.”

“Alrighty, then. I think that’s enough of that,” I said, clapping my hands. “Carrie, go get the broom and dustpan and clean up this mess.” All the men booed and threw cheese balls at me. “Cut it out, you jerks. Where’s my brother?”

“Little Suzy Homemaker is in the kitchen making dinner,” Cam said.

My brother poked his head out and said, “I heard that, jizz stain.”

“Beau!” I barked, shooting my eyes meaningfully to my four-year-old, who was getting the broom and dustpan out of the closet near the dining room.

Beau had the decency to look chagrined. “Can I call him DJ Jizzy Jeff, at least?”

“No,” I said dryly, walking into the kitchen. I grabbed the trash can and took it back to the living room to set it down on the dark wood floor, carefully avoiding stepping on any cheese balls. “Cam, you’re in charge of supervising cleanup duty. Carrie, don’t eat anything off the floor.”

With my “mom instructions” given, I returned to the kitchen, and my brother stopped cutting Velveeta long enough to kiss my cheek. “Hey, sis. Thanks for letting me pick up the princess today.” He was smiling, but there was a marked tightness around his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him, stealing a piece of the Velveeta and popping it into my mouth. He always wanted to spend time with Carrie when he needed to be cheered up. She was like a balm to his soul.

He sighed but continued his work. “A guy I trained was injured in Afghanistan last week. Burned over forty percent of his body. He’s stateside now, and I Skyped with him today. It was… hard.”

I wrapped my arms around him from behind, and he stiffened at first before laying down his knife and turning to hug me. My badass brother struggled with showing emotion or receiving comfort from anyone, but he did let me in sometimes. “Did Carrie help?”

I could feel Beau smile against the top of my head. “Yeah. She always helps me. She’s just all sunshine and sass. What did we ever do before we had her?”

“I don’t know, but it must have been boring as hell,” I said, making my brother laugh. He grabbed me in a headlock and scrubbed his knuckles across my head. “Dammit, Beau. I’ve had enough noogies today.”