Page 64

But Dylan is right. What if they both need me to stay longer to help out?

My breath catches as I start to inhale. I feel the familiar wave of nausea that hits whenever I find myself in a situation that feels a little too stable, a little too familiar and pat.

The urge to bolt. Not now, not today, but soon.

Dylan stares at me for so long I start to wonder if she has some form of narcolepsy where she only looks awake but is off in dreamland. Finally, she blinks.

“Oh, good. You’re still alive. I was starting to worry.”

She goes back to picking tomatoes and chucking handfuls of them into the basket, still silent. Okay. Maybe this is how we’re going to spend the rest of the afternoon together. I can use a little alone time, even if it’s here next to my sister.

“This is actually the perfect relationship for you,” Dylan says when I’ve finally gone back to picking carrots.

“What do you mean?”

“You hate commitment. You run from any situation that has permanence stamped on it. I’d think this temporary favor, with a hot kiss or two, would be the perfect situation for you.”

She’s probably right. And Luke has been parenting Scout alone for the past three years. He’ll work it out once I’m gone. “I know. It’s true. I don’t want anything more from him. That’s not what this is about.”

“What, then?”

“I just like him. And I really like his kid. It’s not that I picture us as a family or anything, but I can already tell I’ll be sad when it’s over. And it will be over, just as soon as his custody battle is done.”

“So prepare yourself.”

“I am.”

When I think about the future, I can no longer separate myself from the two of them. Each time I picture myself in a few months, in six months, in a year, the image is of the three of us. The family I’m not a real part of. The threesome I never wanted in the first place.

I struggle to come up with new images—me on the open road in a convertible, testing the speed limit in a new county, in a new state. I expect the secret thrill I always feel when I start picturing an adventure—the people I’ve yet to meet, the scenery I’ll photograph, the food I’ll devour at a table for one.

But each time I try to channel that exhilarating feeling I’m chasing, it keeps eluding my grasp.

I’ve been longing for what I see right here—in this family photo where our smiles belie the fact that none of it is real.

I let the feeling unfold for a moment inside my heart, let it take over for a minute, curious about where it will lead. Maybe it’s just a flicker of an emotion that will pass as quickly as it came. That’s how it normally works with me.

I wait for it to pass.

It doesn’t.

CHAPTER 23

Callie

“You know what this place needs?” I ask Luke the next day when I come to drop off Scout after school. He’s working on his laptop on the back porch, but he looks less stressed than he did when we met.

I look out at the broad pasture where horses graze at one end. Beyond it, a second piece of land goes unused because it’s already been grazed and Luke hasn’t decided what to do with it next.

“No, but don’t hold back. I could definitely use another project.” The usual growly tone reminds me that I’m dealing with a firmly rooted tree stump who will need convincing to go along with my idea.

“I’m choosing to ignore your tone, Slumpy Grump, because sugar attracts more flies.”

“You think this place needs more flies? I’ve gone to great lengths to get rid of them, so I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

I put down the bag of groceries I bought and walk over to where Luke sits at the table, staring at his laptop. It reminds me of my sisters when they were in high school, and I used to want them to hang out with me. I’d buzz around, offering to give them makeovers and trying to tempt them with games they were too mature to play, and they’d stare at their screens, absorbed in schoolwork or whatever they were doing to shut me out.

Waving a hand at Luke, I force his attention away from the screen. He shuts the laptop and looks at me. “Sorry. I had to finish that email before you cook something and put me in a better mood.” He gestures to the bag. “Unless that’s full of cleaning supplies, in which case, my mood stays the same.”