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“How is Collins?” she says in a sing-song voice that only grates on my nerves.

I look up after typing out my response. “Who’s to say it’s her?”

“Only a woman could give you a dopey grin like that.” She points and circles her finger in front of my face.

I roll my eyes. “She’s just telling me she’s not going to make it today. I invited her, but for obvious reasons, it would be difficult for her to be here.”

Sutton nods. “She’s been through a lot. Just make sure you don’t put her through more.”

“You’re my sister. You’re supposed to be on my side.” I point at myself.

“I am your sister. And I am looking out for you, because if you hurt her, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

I get it now. “All right, all right. Message delivered.”

“Good.”

We chat for a few more minutes, and every time I even venture close to the subject of what she’s doing back, she deftly changes the subject. I guess there will be a time when I’m calling her out.

When she moves on, I go back to the table I’m manning for the event. I stand for at least another twenty minutes before someone finally comes along. This time it’s Uncle Roy. Today he’s wearing a T-shirt that says, I Beg Your Parton, with a picture of Dolly Parton’s face on it.

“Have you thought about bunk beds?” he asks.

“Excuse me.”

“So your sister can move in with you. The two of you in the same room. Like old times.”

“I never shared with Sutton,” I remind him. “Elliott and I shared a room.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not losing my mind, Ansel.”

I chuckle, understanding. “Oh… your precious little girl is driving you crazy, is it?”

He grips the back of his neck. “I forgot how much shit she comes with. My bathroom counter is covered with all her lotions and potions, and she’s thrown out all my favorite stuff from the fridge. All this talk about cholesterol and how too much salt isn’t good for me and I should be focusing on protein and fiber.” He waves his hand in an agitated way. “Something about macro something or other.”

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. “She’s just looking out for your health. Wants you to live a long life.”

He scoffs. “I’m telling her I’m going on walks, partially to get away from her nitpicking, but I just go to the diner and have Dottie feed me the food I want. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. She needs something to keep her busy. Some other project that’s not me.”

I raise both hands. “Well, we have a two-bedroom, and I’m not keen on cuddling up with Fowler. Not to mention, Sutton isn’t a couch girl.”

He chuckles. “That’s for sure. She already ordered a new mattress. Said her old one was too lumpy.”

“How long is she planning on staying?”

“Haven’t asked. You know what she’s like, but if she’s buying a mattress…”

We both chance a look over at her.

“Good to have her back, though.” Uncle Roy has the proud dad look on his face. He should. He raised us.

I think about the conversation she and I just shared. “Yeah, it is.”

Sutton can be hard, but she looks out for all of us.

Roy thumbs over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go snag a piece of cake while she’s distracted. I’ll see you later, kid.”

He walks to the table with the cake, but as soon as he grabs a piece, Sutton’s heels click along the floor, and she swipes it from his hand. He looks over at me with a dramatic preschooler-type frown as she hands the piece to the next kid who walks by.