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Justin glances at me, his eyes assessing. “I think you should make the change permanent.”
I laugh. I laugh hard, and this time, Justin’s smile is more pronounced and sticks around a bit longer.
“You’re a regular comedian, you know that?”
He just shrugs, but his smile is still there. And I revel in it.
Justin guides me toward an apartment complex that abuts the elementary school a few blocks away from Main Street. When I come to a stop in the parking lot, he doesn’t jump out of the car like his ass is on fire. Instead, he lets out a long sigh then turns to look at me.
“Thanks for inviting me today.”
My eyebrows nearly fly off my face at his words, and I nod. “I’m glad you could make it.”
He shoves the door open and steps outside, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Coach.”
I smile, wondering who this kid is and hoping he plans to stick around for a while. “You too, Justin. See you around.”
I wait for a minute, watching as he jogs over to a unit on the first floor, keys into it, and shuts the door behind him. Then I begin the fifteen-minute drive home.
I’m not sure what prompted Justin to relax some of his naturally bristly demeanor, but it feels like proof that he desperately needs someone in his life who will give him some attention—attention that doesn’t have anything to do with how good he is with a bat.
The phone rings a few times before Busy picks up, and I smile when the familiar melody of my baby sister’s voice comes through the speaker.
“I figured I’d hear from you at some point today,” she grumbles.
Chuckling, I set the phone on my desk then tug open my dresser drawers, looking for my favorite pair of jeans.
“You figured right,” I reply. “What’s this about you not coming for Thanksgiving? I thought you were supposed to have landed a few hours ago.”
When I returned from dropping Justin off, Mom told me Busy had some last-minute changes to her plans and wouldn’t be coming. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t here for a major holiday. Even though she’s been enjoying her life in LA since she left for college, she still comes home for the important moments: holidays, big events—like the Cedar Cider opening—and the week over summer when we all return for a little vacay and togetherness.
“Is this about that guy you’re dating?” I continue, the thought only just now occurring to me.
I tug my jeans on then begin digging through my closet for the green sweater I know Gabi loves. I didn’t listen too closely when Busy and Bellamy were talking about this…Jay guy at Cedar Cider, but I do remember the way my younger sister’s eyes glowed as she talked about him.
“No, this isn’t about…him,” she says before letting out a long sigh. “It just isn’t a good time for me…to come home.”
Something about that feels off. I know Busy, and this doesn’t sound like her. The fact that she seems cagey about sharing whatever is really going on is surprising, especially with me, because I’m the sibling she talks to the most often.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
There’s a long pause, and I begin to think maybe she’s going to spill, share whatever it is she’s got on her mind or going on in her life that’s important enough she’d skip out on time with her family. But even through the phone I can feel when she decides to shut me out.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Bishop,” she replies, her voice growing tight. “I just picked up an extra shift at work. That’s all. I’m trying to…make some extra money.”
Licking my lips, I nod. If that’s how she wants to play it—flat-out lie about what she’s doing in LA instead of coming home—then I guess that’s just how it is.
“Well…we’re going to miss you today. You know that, right?”
Busy sighs again, but this time it sounds more sad than irritated. “I know.”
I think it over for a second, ultimately deciding to try again.
“Are you sure? There’s nothing going on? I love you, Biz. Whatever it is—”
“God, Bishop. Will you just leave it?” she barks. “Everything is fine.”
