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  to someone who sends a human banana to my workplace for my twenty-first birthday."

  "You work at a bar," I protest. "It's probably not the first time a singing banana has shown up there."

  "It's a restaurant," Annie argues. "And you promised you wouldn't do it this year."

  "It's your twenty-first birthday!" I protest. "Noah, explain in reasonable terms to Annie that tradition requires the singing banana and there’s nothing that can be done about it. You can’t buck tradition, Annie.”

  "This one tap-danced, Aiden. That's completely over the line."

  Noah snorts. "I'm not getting involved in this argument."

  "Look, do you know how hard it is to find a tap-dancing banana in Colorado Springs?" I ask. "I thought nothing was going to top last year's banana, but it did, didn't it? Tell me it did. They promised a good video of it, but the clip I got was kind of grainy and I didn't get the expression on your face."

  Annie groans in frustration. “You guys are such children.”

  "At least a banana in a bikini didn't pop out of a giant cake the way it did for your birthday last year, Annie," Noah points out helpfully. "He really toned it down this year."

  "The banana had backup dancers," Annie protests. "With instruments. It was practically a marching band of bananas."

  "Well, you needed a reason to get good and drunk on your twenty-first birthday, right?" Noah points out. "Your brother's embarrassing sense of humor is a good excuse."

  "You mean the way my brother continues to emotionally scar me?”

  “Are you seeing a counselor at college?” I ask. “I have lots of money. I can pay for a good shrink.”

  Annie ignores me. “Noah, did you know about the bodyguard?”

  Noah cocks his head to the side as he looks at me. “Really, Aiden?”

  “Like I’m going to let my kid sister go out with her girlfriends and get shitfaced with no protection?”

  “We had condoms!” Annie yells.

  I shout to drown out her words. “Ahh! What the hell, Annie?? I don’t need to know about that.”

  "Were the bananas the bodyguards?" Noah interrupts.

  "No. Unfortunately, the bodyguard refused to put on a banana outfit and sing or tap-dance, so I had to use two separate companies. You really can't find good talent these days."

  Noah snorts as he gives me a onceover. "Truer words have never been spoken."

  “I feel like that’s some kind of commentary about me, but I’m going to ignore it. I told you I was sending someone, Annie. He was basically a designated driver. You should be thanking me."

  "You totally cock-blocked me, Aiden!" she squeals. "Noah, tell him!"

  "Okay, first of all, I'd like to go through the rest of my life without hearing my sister use the term 'cock-blocked' ever again, thank you," I point out. "And second of all, I don't see how me sending a bodyguard out to bars with you had any negative impact on your evening other than getting you all home safely."

  "No one wants to hit on girls surrounded by thugs in suits," Annie protests. "Noah, back me up here."

  "Well, I'm sorry that no guy was man enough to hit on you despite the suits," I say, shaking my head and mouthing "not sorry at all" across the room at Noah.

  "You're so annoying, Aiden," she tells me.

  "Admit that your birthday wouldn't have been the same without the banana."

  The banana has been an annual tradition since ninth grade in high school when I rented a banana outfit to sing Happy Birthday to Annie during a sleepover with all of her friends. Totally worth using two weeks of the money I earned mowing lawns. She was annoyed by it, which only encouraged me to do it again the next year – and then every year after that. It's been my mission to top the banana experience each time. It's practically my brotherly duty.

  She sighs loudly. "Fine. It wouldn't be the same without the banana. But seriously, you're going to eventually run out of ways to embarrass me, dude."

  "That'll never happen, Annie Banannie.”

  "Yeah, he'll always be naturally embarrassing," Noah jumps in. "Happy birthday, by the way."

  "That's true," I add. "Sorry. You're stuck with being humiliated forever, just because you're related to me."

  Annie groans. "Great. Thanks for giving me something to look forward for the rest of my life." She sighs loudly, then her voice softens. “Besides, I guess mom always did think the banana was funny.”

  Noah clears his throat and stands up, taking Annie's mention of our mother as his cue to leave. “I have to get going. My gift is in the mail, kiddo.”

  “I hope it’s not a banana!” Annie yells.

  “You only have to worry about that from your brother,” he says before walking out of the room.

  I take Annie off speaker, putting the phone to my ear as I walk upstairs. "You didn’t have a shit time on your birthday, did you, kid?”

  “You know it’s always hard without mom around,” she says.

  “I can't really stop doing the banana thing now, you realize. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Annie is silent for a minute. "I know. You’re not missing dinner at Mama Ashby’s next week, are you? She’s going to be pissed off if you do. You missed it last month.”

  “No way. I’m there,” I assure her. “I’ll give you my real birthday present then.”

  “Oh, you have something for me other than a marching band of bananas?”

  “Yep. But it has to be delivered in person.”

  “I’m scared to ask why. If it’s a snake, spider, scorpion, or an insect of any kind, I’m never speaking to you again.”

  “I’m sad that you question my gift-giving ability.”

  “You gave me a snake in a shoebox when I was nine, Aiden.”

  “Mom freaked when it got loose.” I laugh at the memory of my mother holding a broom and standing on a chair in the middle of the kitchen, yelling for my sister and I to rescue her from the snake.

  “Yeah.” Annie’s voice is wistful.

  “Love you, Anna Banana."

  Annie sighs exasperatedly. "I know, A-hole."

  12

  Grace

  I down several gulps of water from my bottle, my heart still racing after my run while Vi updates me over the phone on the latest developments in her business life.

  "I'm on my way to Miami," Vi informs me. "I’m looking at samples for the new line.”

  Last year, Vi developed her own resort wear line of clothing inspired by places she’s traveled around the world. She got good reviews and after a big Hollywood celebrity was photographed wearing one of her designs, she was put in some exclusive boutiques in Miami.

  “Send me photos?”

  “Top Secret photos,” she says. “I’m in Miami for a week, unless you’d like me to stay in Denver to help make sure you take advantage of the whole two hot guys situation."

  "You're such a generous person. But I'll pass, since there will be no ‘taking advantage of two hot guys’."

  Vi sighs exaggeratedly. "I saw you with one of those two hot guys, and trust me, Noah Ashby looked like he would be more than happy to be taken advantage of, specifically by you."

  "Nothing is going to happen between me and Noah Ashby, Vi –"

  "You heard your father. He wants you to milk that football player for an endorsement."

  "Is that an innuendo? Because if it is, I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

  Vi laughs. "I give the both of you a week at the ranch before Noah Ashby has you bent over a fence.”

  "Who says Noah Ashby is even going to the ranch?" Suddenly, I'm suddenly distracted by a loud buzzing noise. "What the hell?"

  A remote-controlled helicopter appears above the wall between my house and the neighbor's, a plastic object dangling from it. Oh my God. "Is that a… blow-up doll?"

  "Where? What's going on? Is this your neighbor's blow up doll we're talking about?" Vi asks.

  As if there are any other blow-up dolls in my life.

  But I'm too