Page 135 of Made for Mayhem

Uno stood beside me, his judgy one-eyed stare only emphasizing the feeling that this might have been a mistake. Just as I was about to go check on the girls, the screaming started—pure, delighted terror.

Junie had Daisy by the wrist and hauled her toward Violet’s house at top speed. Daisy’s blonde hair was still in the same messy knot she’d worn for three days straight, strands escaping like pale ribbons. But she was upright, wearing paint-splattered overalls and a cropped white tee. And she was laughing in a way I hadn’t heard in weeks—breathless, startled, real.

“Run, Dizzy!”

Cluck Norris sprinted after them at the head of his posse, neck feathers flared like a red cape, eyes murderous. The hens streamed behind him in a clucking avalanche, wings half-spread for balance. Rowdy darted between the girls and the angry rooster like the tiny superhero he believed himself to be, yapping for all he was worth. Piggie squealed and bolted after them, tiny black hooves skittering across the gravel.

I couldn’t contain the chuckle that rumbled out of me, even on the brink of a panic attack.

The girls hit the porch in a heap of limbs and laughter. Junie recovered first, scrambled up the steps, threw open the purple front door, and hauled Daisy inside before either of them had a chance to second-guess this decision.

I stayed put a minute longer, heart thumping harder than it had any right to.

The house looked nothing like the sagging, sad thing Daisy had walked into at the beginning of summer. New cedar shakes glowed honey-warm in the late sun. Pink petunias spilled from the window boxes I’d hung yesterday, their scent drifting down sweet and dizzying. The new porch swing—wide enough for three, with thick cushions in Violet’s favorite floral—moved gently in the breeze like it had always belonged there.

From inside came Junie’s voice, bright and bossy and impossible to resist. “Close your eyes—no peeking—okay, okay, NOW!”

I pushed off the fence and walked down to join them. By the time I reached the porch, Junie had Daisy by both hands and was towing her through every room like an over-caffeinated tour guide.

“This is the living room,” Junie announced, spinning in place. “Do you love the pink? Emmy said it’s the exact coral Mom pinned on her Pinterest board. And the beams—we left all the old knots but stained them dark so it still feels like a real mountain house but also kind of like a fairy cottage.”

She dragged Daisy toward the kitchen, not waiting for a reply. I trailed behind, hands shoved deep in my pockets, trying to look casual while my pulse hammered in my chest.

Daisy stopped in the middle of the kitchen, turning in a small circle. The farmhouse sink gleamed white against the butcher-block counters Luke had planed smooth. Copper pots hung from a rack above the island like wind chimes. Down the hall you could see the refurbished claw-foot tub that waited behind a barn-door slider we’d salvaged.

“Ty,” Daisy whispered, reaching out to touch the cool lip of the sink. I studied her face, trying to read her expression, but I didn’t trust myself to interpret it right now. Was the little frown that pulled at her lips shock, or was it panic?

“Come see the upstairs!” Junie called, racing toward the steps. “There’s five bedrooms now—three upstairs and two downstairs—and two-and-a-half bathrooms, just like she wanted. The big bathroom downstairs has penny tile that looks like fish scales and one upstairs has a shower so big, it’s like standing under a cloud.”

Her feet stomped on the stairs. Daisy followed slower, fingertips trailing the banister I’d sanded until it felt like silk. I brought up the rear, every step creaking under my feet, bile rising in my throat the longer Daisy stayed silent.

Junie flung open doors like a game-show hostess. “This one’s the Lupine Room—see the purple quilt? The big one at the end is Poppy with lots of red. It has its own balcony and looks straight at Castle Peak on clear days. And this one is the Wild Rose Suite because roses climb right up the trellis outside the window. I like this one the best.”

They came back downstairs to look at the last bedroom—the one that was supposed to be Junie’s—that Stevie had turned into a kids’ bunk room. Toys sat in neat arrangements, everything rainbow bright, and it all felt like a hug.

Junie skipped the last doorway entirely. Didn’t slow, didn’t glance at the closed door at the end of the hall that no one had opened since we boxed up Violet’s things. Just breezed past it like it was painted with invisibility.

Daisy stopped in the middle of the hallway, her eyes wide and shining.

“You did all this?” she asked, voice small and cracked right down the middle.

“I had help,” I managed. I ruffled Junie’s hair and she beamed up at me. “Shannon was the one in charge. Luke knows every tradesman in the Valley. Emmy and Stevie handled decor. The boys and I just showed up and tried not to get in the way.”

When she didn’t say anything, I asked, “Did I overstep?”

Daisy laughed once—wet and startled—and pressed her fingers under her eyes like she could hold the tears back by force. “No. Not at all.” She looked around again, slower this time. “Thank you, Ty. Thank you for this. Violet would have loved it.”

Junie bounced over and grabbed Daisy’s hand again. “Now we can rent the rooms like Mom wanted! Since we’re going to live at Ty’s forever, there’s even more room, and maybe we can make enough to buy mini cows. I want fluffy ones with bangs, like those videos. And I read they don’t like to be alone, so we’ll need at least two.”

My stomach dropped straight through the refinished floorboards and kept falling. Junie had just put bright, confident words to the conversation Daisy and I hadn’t touched yet.

Daisy’s smile flickered. She crouched, tucked a curl behind Junie’s ear with trembling fingers. “You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, cutie?”

That was when the white county SUV crunched up the drive, tires spitting gravel.

Sandra stepped out in her sensible flats, clipboard in hand, stopped on the path and gasped when she saw the house. She did the full walk-through, checking off every needed improvement and asking Junie if she was excited for third grade. Junie answered with clipped words, but she didn’t hide behind me this time.

After Daisy turned off all the lights inside, Sandra pulled us onto the porch, leaving the door open as Junie ran back in to grab one more cookie from the new jar in the kitchen.