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“You’re uninvited to the next family dinner, Pooper Scooper,” she mutters.
The nickname makes the corners of my mouth tug. It’s one of the most original I’ve heard, although I’ve lost count of the number of nicknames I’ve been given. Almost every person I’ve ever met has called me some variation of Cooper.
“You can’t uninvite him, sweetheart. I’m afraid that’s out of your jurisdiction,” Dad says, offering her a sweet smile.
Amelia stops chewing and swallows so loud it’s audible before darting her eyes to Scarlett. SP only shrugs her shoulders and winks at Dad.
“Sorry, my love. Your dad’s right.”
Dad’s smile is all mischief as he stares at his wife, and something warm settles in my stomach at the exchange. It’s good seeing him like this.
Blissful.
From the moment Scarlett fell into our lives when I was twelve, it was obvious she was going to become a huge part of our family. Our Scary Spice fit into our duo like she was meant to be there, and I’ve never regretted the matchmaking I did that nudged them together when they were both too stubborn to do it themselves. Not once.
I’ve always loved my family, even when it was just Dad and me and my mom, Beth. But now it’s complete. Even after my little sister came along, turning our lives upside down, I wouldn’t change a thing.
“What happened to girls always sticking together, Mom?” Amelia cries.
Scarlett laughs. “Who said we weren’t?”
“Why don’t you tell us about school, Amy,” I say, nudging the conversation in a different direction.
She lifts her glass of iced tea and brings it to her mouth, holding it there as she exhales a blunt “Pass.”
I arch a brow. “Why?”
When she busies herself with slowly drinking from her glass instead of replying, I look to Scarlett for answers. She smiles bleakly at me.
“Amelia hasn’t been getting along well with her English teacher. There was an . . . incident yesterday.” She pushes loose red hair behind her ear and dares a look at her daughter. Amelia ignores her, posture suddenly stiff.
“What kind of incident? Did something happen?” I push, worry burning a hole in my stomach.
I know the majority of her teachers from my time at her school. My employment at the middle school wasn’t overly long before I moved over to high school, but I’m not a forgetful man.
“I really don’t want to talk about this. Can we move on? I know for a fact you wanted to talk to Cooper about something, Dad, and it wasn’t my education,” Amelia blurts out.
Dad ignores her. “Your sister stole a can of spray paint from the garage and decided to give Mr. Wright’s car a makeover during her last class.”
The name doesn’t sound familiar, so he must be new.
“Dad,” she groans, hanging her head.
“You did what?” I croak, blinking away my disbelief. “Did it at least look good after?”
“Cooper!” Scarlett half scolds, half laughs.
Amelia peeks up at me, mouth twitching. “Of course.”
Dad blows out a long breath. “Well, I guess this is on me. I should have known your brother wouldn’t lecture you when it came to something even remotely artistic. That’s why you’re grounded for the next year. I have to be the bad guy.”
“Itwashis spray paint,” SP says, muffling her laugh with her shirt sleeve.
“What did you paint? And was it deserved?” I ask.
Amy rolls her eyes. “Trust me, he deserved to find a beautiful graffitied dick on the side of his fancy SUV. Now he can have his personality on display for all to see instead of just in his classroom.”
I wince. “He’s that bad? I don’t think I know him.”
