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Palmer
I sit in the booth next to my cousin Lance, staring between him and my other cousin Brinley. I don’t understand how they think they can help. Lance is a businessman, and yes, he’s worth millions, maybe even billions, but last I checked, he knows nothing about writing. And Brinley is now a tattoo artist. A super talented one, but she’s not a writer.
“You could probably use some peace and a change of environment, right?” Lance asks, digging out his wallet and putting enough money on the table to cover more than what’s been eaten. He glances over Brinley’s shoulder and leans closer. “But Easton can’t know, so just wait until he leaves, and we’ll explain.”
“Cryptic.”Brinley laughs.
Easton returns from the bathroom, not bothering to sit back down. “I have to get going. I’ve got training at the sports complex. This is my year, I know it.”
We all smile making it abundantly clear we’re keeping something from him. He stares at us for a long moment, and we widen our smiles, making the situation even more awkward.
I wave and sign good luck while our other cousins say bye and huddle their heads in the middle of the table after Easton leaves.
“He knows we’re keeping something from him,” I say.
Brinley looks over her shoulder and shoos me with her hand. “I’ll make something up if he asks.”
Lance raises his wrist to check the time on his expensive watch. “We gotta go now because I have a meeting in an hour.” He turns to Brinley. “Can you text Calista?”
“Why Calista?”
Brinley slides out of the booth. “You’ll understand when we get there, but I’m supposed to open the shop, so we gotta go now.”
“That’s what I said.” Lance hip-checks me to get me moving.
“Where are you taking me?”I ask.
She wraps her arm around me. “It’s a surprise, but a great one. I promise.”
We leave Lard Have Mercy, and since we all have to be places afterward, we each drive our own cars. Lance leads the way, heading toward the back part of Lake Starlight, where the lake isn’t as deep and the houses are spread out from one another. The roads are narrow, causing me to grip the steering wheel tightly when another car comes from the opposite direction. I glance at the clock to see that there’s plenty of time before I have to pick up Adley.
Eventually, they put on their turn signals, and I question what for until Lance pulls into a small driveway. When the trees clear, I see a little cottage tucked away in the forest. We barely fit all three cars on the gravel driveway, so when Calista drives up before I even get out of my car, she has to park sideways at the end to fit. I groan because I’m blocked in now. There’s no fast getaway in my future.
“Hi!” she says, waving her hand with the heavy diamond ring. She opens her back door and grabs her four-year-old son, Jaden, from his car seat. He squirms to get down and runs toward us.
We each give him a high five, Brinley trying to snatch him up. Calista rounds the cars, and her swollen belly tucked under a maternity shirt is the first thing I notice about my eldest cousin.
“When did I miss this news?” I ask. “Where’s Buzz Wheel when you need it?”
She laughs. “Then you definitely aren’t keeping up with it. It was reported at, like, month three. I guess you show earlier with your second one.” She rubs her belly, and the blush that fills her cheeks is completely envy-worthy.
I don’t want to ever get married, but seeing some of my cousins—the three here right now—all settled down sometimes makes me wonder if maybe marriage could be for me someday. Especially when I see the glow on Calista’s face. But I had that glow, too, when I was pregnant with Adley.
“And why isn’t Mr. Jaden in preschool this morning?” Brinley asks, reluctantly letting him go since he refuses to be held.
“We leave for Chicago next week.”
Calista’s family spends their off months here, and during her husband Rylan’s soccer season, they live in Chicago. She’s told the family many times that once he retires, they’ll be back in Lake Starlight for good, especially since her husband is from the Greene family in Sunrise Bay. At least she has Easton there in Chicago when it’s baseball season.
“Already? That seemed short,” Brinley says.
I get between them and raise my hands—I’m tired of talking today. Why am I here in front of some creepy cottage in the middle of nowhere?
They laugh. I’m fortunate that most of my family has learned how to sign. Although I can read lips, and with my cochlear implants, I can hear them, I still sign a lot of the time. When I was younger, I only communicated through sign language, and each of my cousins, aunts, and uncles took classes. I never take that for granted. Some are more fluent than others, but they can usually get the gist of what I’m saying if I don’t sign too fast. If not, someone else translates for me.
“Come.” Lance swings his arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the house.
He passes a key to Calista, who uses it to open the cottage. We each walk through the cute, rounded door that has a small window on top. There’s a sofa with a quilted afghan lying across the back and a kitchen with what appears to be the necessities in the far back corner.
