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“You look really happy, kid,” I said.
She nudged me with her shoulder. “I am. I miss Dad, of course, and I’ll miss him even more when I walk down the aisle in the spring, but I feel like he was so at peace at the end. It’s hard for me to feel any other way but that.”
Slowly, I nodded. Dad was at peace. He was ready. He’d said his goodbyes to all his kids, to Sheila, and we knew with absolute certainty that he loved us and had lived well. Still, thinking about him made me feel like I was pressing my hands on a big, gaping wound that still wasn’t getting smaller. A desperate attempt to close that wasn’t quite ready to heal.
I wrapped an arm around her shoulder as we walked into the kitchen, and Greer shoved the album toward me so I could see what had them in hysterics.
“Good Lord,” I muttered. “Who let us go out in public like that?”
“Mom,” all three girls answered in tandem.
Sheila laughed, her eyes shining with a different kind of tears than I’d seen on her recently, and it was nice.
“I forgot about the matching clothes phase,” I said. “We look like the von Trapp family in their curtain outfits.”
Poppy bent over, hands braced on her knees. “Look at your face, Ian. You were so mad.”
“I was wearing red plaid overalls. Of course I was mad.”
Sheila tutted her tongue. “You all looked adorable, and you can never change my mind. It was so fun those first couple of years to put you kids in coordinating outfits. You should’ve seen the looks we got when we walked through town.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet people stared,” Greer said under her breath.
“At least I didn’t have a bowl cut,” I told her.
She leveled a glare in my direction, and I smirked.
“Those haircuts were very in style at the time,” Sheila said primly.
The girls all traded a look.
Sheila tugged the album back and clutched it to her chest. “I might blow that picture up and frame it, just to teach you kids a lesson.”
“Please don’t,” I begged.
She laughed. “I won’t. Now … what are you doing here, young man? I wasn’t expecting to see you today. Are you here to give me permission to stop by your house again?”
I gave her a look. “Not yet. Give them some more time before y’all descend on them like a pack of nosy wolves.”
Greer scoffed. “That’s blatantly misogynistic because I’d argue the men in this family are way nosier, but okay.” She turned away and started watching something Poppy had on her phone.
Sheila smiled, patting my hand consolingly. “What is it, Ian?”
Too many sisters were in the kitchen for this, but I’d come this far. After blowing out a slow breath, I said, “I came for some advice.”
Any talking, chattering, and laughing stopped immediately, and the vacuum of silence following my words was acute.
I slicked my tongue over my teeth while my three sisters and my stepmom gaped in my direction.
Poppy’s hand fluttered to her chest. “You … what?”
“I’ve asked for advice before,” I said, only a touch defensively.
“When?” Greer asked.
“Ten years ago,” Adaline answered. “When he was trying to decide about moving to London.”
“No, he didn’t even ask about that,” Sheila piped in. “He just told us he was doing it.”
