“You’ll be pleased to hear that while I was using the restroom on the flight back, Summer ordered me a glass of milk.” Summer snorts and takes another bite of the scone in her hand. From the opposite side of the breakfast table, Beau cackles over the rim of his coffee mug. “Summer, will you marry me?” My brother asks in jest. But my caveman brain misses the joke. Instead, it sounds like my big brother is hitting on her, and I want to scoop her up and hide her away.
