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He nudged my shoulder with his. “I’m really glad you’re back.”
“Who says I’m back?”
“You’re back.” He lifted me onto the porch.
I didn’t disabuse him of that notion. Instead, I held out a hand to help him up the extra-large stairs. He surprised me by taking my hand.
We headed back inside. My mother and Gina both had paintbrushes in their hands.
My sister hopped off the stepstool and held out a paintbrush. “Tell me you’re better at trim than I am?”
I took the brush. “I guess we’re going to find out.” I stopped in front of my mother. “Sorry, Mami.”
“Pride is a good thing. I taught all my children to have it. But when you start sounding like a spoiled brat, it’s my job to call you out. These people came here to help you.”
“I know. I just didn’t like Jake taking over.”
“He’s been spending all his spare time talking to your brother about the cheapest and best way to fix up the bar enough for you to get it open and money coming in. That boy loves you. He always has.”
I stared down at my feet. “We were kids.”
“I met your father when I was eighteen. Not so different.” She glanced over at my father working with Damien. “Some things you just know.”
I’d never doubted that my parents were anything other than perfect for one another. While plenty of my friends went through divorces and dealing with stepparents, my parents had grown together, accepting the people they had become with the passage of years. They had been meant for each other.
Maybe Jake and I were too. We’d just taken the long route.
I rubbed my chest. That was for later.
Right now, I had to focus on the goal ahead.
I picked up the little paint can and climbed up the small ladder to paint the trim around the doorway. My sister was right—she was terrible at it.
An hour passed, then another. Still, there wasn’t any word from Jake.
Anxiety buzzed in my stomach like a swarm of angry bees.
We heard reports about the fire on the local radio station, and I found myself checking the news apps on my phone.
My brother’s phone went off, followed by Gina’s and my mother’s.
My heart stopped when my mother turned off the radio and walked over to me. “Mami?”
She tucked one of my curls around my ear. “We should go to the hospital, mija.”
“Why?”
“Just get your things.”
“He’s okay, right?”
“I don’t know a lot of information. Your cousin is an EMT, and he saw Jake get taken away in an ambulance.”
My knees buckled, and my sister and my mother grabbed me. “I’m okay.” My voice was little more than a whisper. I swallowed a lump in my throat as my eyes burned. “Can you drive me?”
My mother curled her arm around my back. “Yes. We’ll all go.”
I gripped her hand. “Please tell me he’s going to be fine. Lie if you have to.”
