Read Online Rite of Passage by Kevin V. Symmons - Free Book Online

be a man about town. Mom keeps sending me the newspaper articles about you. And now there’s a special girl I understand?”
    “Hi, Mike.” I nodded. “How’s it going?”
    He put a massive hand on either side of my head, eyes narrowing as he searched my face.
    “I’m doing all right. But…what about you?” He searched my face and frowned. “I expected upbeat, robust.” He shook his head. “Hell, you look like you just lost your best friend. Hell, I thought that was me, so I hope it’s not the case.”
    He put his arm around me and ushered me up the long staircase into his spacious living room. The interior belied the rambling farmhouse look. It had the appearance and feel of a hunting lodge without the trophies.
    The rough-hewn pine beams gave the room a pleasant scent, intersecting and bridging the high ceiling twelve feet above us. Simple hand-crafted chairs and a long, overstuffed couch were the main furnishings. The walls were covered with photos of his time in the army and his ski adventures. In the rear, an expanse of glass offered a spectacular view of the slopes.
    A well-stocked pine-paneled bar said Mike still enjoyed a good drink. He pushed me in that direction and insisted I sit on one of the stools. Despite the rough, utilitarian look, I settled comfortably onto the leather seat.
    “The place looks great. I love it, especially that window in the back,” I said, taking in the comfortable surroundings. It struck me that the interior of the house was the perfect embodiment of my brother.
    He went behind the bar, took out two ice-cold beers, chilled mugs, and poured. “All right, is this gonna be easy, or do I have to get you shitfaced before you tell me what’s happening?”
    I took a long draft of the beer. It went down too easily—like ice water. “I may need a couple of these.” I smiled as I shook my head. He kept studying me. “Keep ’em coming.”
    “No kidding, Rob, you look like shit.”
    I took another long swallow of beer.
    “Well, at least tell me about the lady in your life. Rachel? That should cheer you up.”
    I groaned inwardly.
    Three beers later, Mike stood on his deck, concentrating on the two massive tenderloins sizzling on the grill. He kept watch on me as he applied his secret marinade.
    It had taken the better part of an hour. I told him about the reunion and Courtney. He tried to come to grips with my explanation. “Come on, Robert, we all see sexy kids.” He gave me that patronizing guy-to-guy look.
    “Whoa!” I stood, grabbing the bar for balance. “It’s not like that. Courtney’s twenty, not some teenager I’m leering at. I really like her. More than that”—I swallowed hard and vocalized the thought I’d been fighting—“I…I think I’m falling in love with her.”
    He waved, dismissing my words as he narrowed his eyes. “Come on. You’ve only known her for a day.” He threw down the barbecue tools and shook his head. “Maybe this is denial. A reaction to getting serious with your girl in Boston.” He shrugged.
    I rolled my eyes as I weaved behind the bar to open my fourth beer.
    “Michael, you’re—not—listening. It’s not denial,” I repeated. “Not some crazy weekend fling. I…” The words stuck in my throat.
    He left the barbecue and looked at me. “Jesus. You’re serious, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “What do you want from me—my blessing?”
    “I don’t know, Mike. I needed to talk to someone and you drew the short straw.”
    “Okay. Let’s acknowledge love at first sight and assume that you and this English girl are the perfect pair.” His comments sounded patronizing. “Have you really thought this through?”
    He took the steaks off the grill with a giant fork and went to check the corn boiling on the stove.
    “You two are going to be love birds. Are you really going to dump Rachel and piss off all our important friends to play house?” he asked. “Have you taken leave of your senses,