Page 62 of Made for Mayhem

“What? You don’t think a dance party is normal grief behavior?” I scrambled to my feet, brushing grass off my jeans, and hurried to turn down the volume.

As if mocking me, the next song that came on was Stayin’ Alive.

The irony punched me right in the chest. Emmy’s eyebrows shot up, her gaze bouncing between me and the little stereo, not sure if she should laugh or hug me.

A laugh ripped out of me first—sharp, unhinged, and way too loud—and then I doubled over, clutching my chest as I lost it to a fit of giggles. When I finally straightened, breathless and sniffling, Emmy leaned against the side of her car, her mouth curved in a barely contained grin.

“I mean,” she said, “you seem good.”

“Sure,” I said, sliding my heart-shaped sunglasses up onto my head. “Hell of an impression I’ve made.”

Emmy waved me off. “Please. I know everything I need to know about you already.”

My eyebrows rose. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Her gaze flicked toward Ty’s house, then back to me. “You’re still here. And that means you’re holding it together in the absolute shitstorm life handed you. Or… okay, maybe not together”—she nodded toward the stereo—“but I’ll give you points for flair.”

I smiled. “Joke’s on you. I have no idea what I’m doing. I love Junie more than anything, but I don’t know how to take care of a kid.”

“Yes, well, welcome to the club.”

I blinked at her. “What?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got a teenager. Half the time parenting’s just making shit up and hoping you don’t scar them for life. Or at least only in new and exciting ways. You’ll figure it out. We all do.”

She pushed off the car and came a few steps closer. “Besides, you’ve got a cheat code.”

I huffed a laugh. “And what’s that?”

“Ty.” She pointed up at his house. “My brother is freakishly good at this. He adores Junie, and your niece worships him. Which is still baffling to me, because this is the same man who once told me licking a frozen pole wouldn’t make my tongue stick. And let’s not even talk about when he swapped out my shampoo for maple syrup.”

I snorted. “Ah, to be the younger sibling.”

“A true survival test.” Emmy grinned. “But my point is, Ty will hold down the fort while you get your feet under you. That’s just who he is, and your sister knew that about him. You’ve got a whole crew who’s got your back. You don’t have to be perfect, Daisy. You just have to be present.”

I stared at her for a long moment, something raw and grateful working its way through me.

“Yeah,” I finally said, turning toward Violet’s house. “I’m trying.”

Cluck Norris crowed from behind us, and Emmy went back to her car. “Need anything while I’m running errands in Glenwood Springs? Groceries? Target run? Rooster defense system?”

I laughed, the sound a little shaky but real. “Maybe some chicken nuggets I can eat in front of Cluck Norris so he knows we aren’t on speaking terms.”

Emmy tossed her head back and cackled. “I knew I liked you.”

My smile lingered even as my chest ached. But just behind the lightness, the weight settled back in. Chicago. My things. The note I’d left behind. The mess I wasn’t ready to face.

Not now.

Before she backed out of the driveway, Emmy rolled down her window and tossed something out. A business card fluttered through the air and landed in the grass.

“My number,” she said. “Also, I own the Pilates studio in town. There’s a private class on Tuesday nights with a few friends. You should come sometime.”

I picked it up, tapping the Elevation Pilates logo against my palm as I looked back at her.

She was staring at the house now, two faint lines between her brows. “Are you sure you’re okay alone?”

I followed her gaze, taking in the visual representation of the wreckage my life was.