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I turn away and reach for my longneck only to find it empty. I stand as I snag the bottle to go find another.
“Beer me, too,” Twain tells me as I pass by the grill where he, Dad, and Keith are parked, discussing the new John Deere tractor he bought for his land by the park. I snatch his empty bottle with a growl and go inside to find Harper in the kitchen.
“What’re you doing?”
Caught in the act, she shoots me a sheepish grin. At the counter, she’s reaching for something in a cabinet over her head. One crutch is propped against the counter. The other, thankfully, is tucked precariously under her arm.
“I need that serving platter.”
Frustrated with her both because she’s going to hurt herself and because she’s sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong with Jules and me, I frown at her and toss the empty bottles in the recycle can before going to help her.
“What would you have done if your crutch had fallen?” I turn to her when I put the platter on the counter for her.
“I guess I’d have waited in here for you to come and save me.”
“And what if I don’t feel like saving you?”
“You just did,” she said with a smile. “Don’t be silly.”
Afraid she’s going to either fall or drop the serving platter, I snatch it when she tries to pick it up.
“What do you need done with this?”
“Why are you so grouchy?”
Both crutches under her arms again, she moves over to the fridge and opens it.
“I have cheese to put out.”
“Move.” I shoo her away from the refrigerator, find the cheese, and carry it back to the platter. She stands at my side as I arrange the cheeses on the platter.
“Nope.” She shakes her head and tugs the platter closer so she can correct the cheese layout. When I catch her peeking at me, I roll my eyes. “Like this.”
“It’s cheese, Harper,” I tell her. “No one cares.”
I’m being mean. While I’m irritated that Harper has suddenly decided to make me a project, I am glad Julie’s here. I think. On the other hand, it’s hard to talk to her around all the bad vibes in my head, and it’s hard to avoid her when she’s here with my family for my mom.
The thing is, Harper and Keith throw a nice party. Keith is a true grill master. Harper’s fancy—the table is decked out with bouquets of flowers and a fancy cake. Harper’s got a cute stack of fancy paper plates and matching napkins. Small dishes of candies. She’s always over the top, and although no one expects her to do so much, we all enjoy it and appreciate it.
“I get it,” she says quietly, eyes back on the cheese. “You’re mad at me.”
“Me and Julie aren’t your business.”
I don’t know why I expect her to back off. She takes a deep breath, finishes arranging the cheese slices, and then hobbles back to the fridge.
“What now?”
“Grapes.”
I lean into the fridge and find a bowl of grapes. She watches me put it on the counter.
“You’re my little brother.”
I nod. “And if you and Keith were having problems, would you be okay with me nosing around?”
“I’m not nosing around.”
“You’re spending more time with Julie than I do. What’s that about? Why is she here today?”
