My Oakvillian Brothers

I speculatively eyed the two wrapped sandwiches that sat in front of my two restless and hungry friends. "Eat." The word fell short and curt from me, appropriate like a whipping word from a mother's mouth.
"No." Mike said. Rory agreed,
"We're waiting for you; we're being polite."
"Yeah. We eat together. We're a family, Arwen."
I laughed kindly and smiled fully. Something about that moment filled me with incalculable joy. We laughed hard together that night. It'd been a while since my stomach hurt in such a happy way. The eve before the first day of spring I was drunk with a carefree love for life, which I nearly forgot exists steadfast in the seat of my heart.