Broken Strings

Nineteen

            By the time he arrived home, Travis felt just about ready to crawl into bed and crash.  He'd have to get up early to train and then spend some time with Guac and it was already near one a.m.  Exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders, each step he took laden with fatigue.

The late hour meant that his house should have been quiet but as he reached the front door, he was met with the sounds of bright laughter.  It sounded like a party was raging.

            Frowning, Travis entered and as he kicked off his boots and slung his jacket onto a hook, another bout of laughter sounded.  Deeper than the first, a few guttural chuckles.

            It was followed by his sister's voice.  "You're such an idiot."

            "Hey!  I'm not the one who believed flamingo feathers were made out of cotton candy."

            "I was four – and you're the one who told me that, you asshole!"

            As he strode deeper into the house, Travis found the origin of the noise.  His sister was seated on the couch, a little red in the face that likely came as a result of the stemless glass of rosé wine she clutched between her fingers.  Next to her, Noah was lounging.  One arm was thrown across her shoulders, the other grasping what seemed to be a near-empty beer bottle.  On the other side of the room, sprawled in one of the leather armchairs was Jake.  A lazy grin had settled on his face.  It was a little mocking but in a good-natured sort of way.  And on the television –

            Travis cringed as he watched his younger self get bitten by a peacock.

            "You guys having a party without me?" he asked.

            "Hey!" Bailey exclaimed, beaming.  "Come join the fun."

            "Why are you watching home videos?"

            Noah looked up as Travis clapped him on the shoulder before slumping on the couch next to him.  "Bailey couldn't get some old hook out of her head from a song she swears she wrote years ago so she and Brock came here to see if Maryse remembered where it was which resulted in your mom pulling out your finest collection of home videos.  They said they'd only be gone an hour and after three went by, I came looking only to find your entire family and Brock laughing their faces off at your home videos.  That was well over two hours ago."

             "Ah."

            "Do you remember this?" Jake asked, indicating the television where Travis's younger self was now getting chased by a small flock of peacocks.

            Travis cringed.  "Unfortunately.  Denver Zoo, right?"

            Jake nodded.  "Yup."  To Noah, he added, "We went on a family trip where I managed to convince Bailey that flamingo feathers were made out of cotton candy and then ten minutes later, this idiot got bit by a peacock."

            "My own fault," Travis admitted as Noah turned to him with a raised brow.  "I was six and didn't think the peacock would mind if I tried to take one of its tail feathers.  News flash, it minded.  And then, my mom spent the entire car ride home teaching me how to respect animals so that I never did anything that stupid or disrespectful again."

            "But you got a lovely souvenir," Bailey chimed in, sipping from her wine.

            "Did you actually get a feather?" Noah asked.

            Travis shook his head as his brother snorted from the other side of the room.  "No – just a scar from where it bit me."

            "You got a scar from a peacock?" a voice drawled from somewhere behind Travis.