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He nods. “I’ll keep my team working on it.”
“Thanks.”
On the other side of the closed door there’s a sudden outbreak of joyful barking. Total’s claws click on the tile as he runs down the hall. Charlotte runs after him, shouting to no one in particular that Tess and Micah are here.
Gage nods to me. “Come on. Don’t want to be anti-social.”
“Says the anti-social king.”
“Used to be.”
“I know. Marriage has changed you.”
He scowls like he needs to prove he’s still a sullen prick.
I just laugh at him as he throws the door open.
The sound of baby babble echoing through the house reminds me how much I’ve missed seeing that kid every day. Even if I’d been in town lately, which I haven’t, my house is empty. Dash and his parents have moved across the street.
We find Micah in the kitchen holding Dash. Between the baby in his arms and the diaper bag slung over his shoulder, my take-no-prisoners, ink-covered cousin looks downright housebroken. Like an ad for parenthood.
He notices me and snorts with surprise. “What’s this? You come home and don’t even cross the street to say hello?”
I take the baby away from him. “Stop whining. I haven’t even been home. I drove straight here from the airport.”
Tess, who was busy admiring Dani’s tiny baby bump, looks up. “I thought you weren’t going to be home until late tonight.”
“Change of plans.” I bounce Dash. “And aren’t you happy to see your Uncle Conner?”
Dash laughs. Then he coughs up a glob of curdled milk, which lands on my shirt.
Tess plucks him out of my arms. “Sorry, he just ate.”
Dash, proud of himself, says some nonsense syllables and grins.
“I’m glad to see you too, buddy,” I assure him.
Dani orders everyone to go out back where the caterers are setting up cheese boards and shit but I’m currently decorated with baby vomit so I retreat to a bathroom instead.
When I’m finished scrubbing I’m left with a sizeable water stain over my heart but it beats the alternative. The house has emptied out and I follow the sound of voices carrying from the backyard.
Standing just barely out of sight inside the house, I see Lita first. She wears a long pink sundress and sits in a cushioned patio chair in the shade beneath a pergola. Her cheeks have filled out in recent weeks but there’s a fragile quality about her that didn’t used to be there and that doesn’t exist in her identical twin.
My eyes move on in a hungry search for Haven and I don’t have to look far. She stands a short distance from Lita’s chair, watching as her sister listens to Charlotte chattering a mile a minute. To my surprise, her hair has been dyed back to its natural blonde. She wears an old pair of jeans. Black Converse. A plain white tee shirt.
The longer I stare at her, the more my heart hurts.
Haven doesn’t see me. She’s focused on her sister. I doubt anyone has told her I’m here. Micah and Gage, hanging out by the food table, glance over to see what I’ll do. Nothing for the moment. I’m happy to just stand back and watch her.
Lita smiles at something Charlotte says. Dash makes a loud noise like he’s indignant over the lack of attention. Tess tries to hold him out to Lita and Lita starts to reach for him but then pulls back. Her hands curl and nestle together in her lap, like she’s withdrawing into the pose she unknowingly held for years. She turns her head suddenly and Haven rushes forward. Haven bends low and whispers something in her ear. Lita shakes her head, mouths the words ‘I’m fine’.
“Hey, stranger.” The throaty voice is instantly recognizable. Bree Lambeau is the only Em City sports reporter I can trust not to spring some ‘gotcha’ garbage questions, which is why she’s the only one I’ll grant an interview to anytime she asks. We’ve known each other since high school. Bree knows everyone here. After all, a long time ago she was Lita’s girlfriend.
“Hey.” I sling my arm over her shoulders for a quick hug. “Where’s Renae?”
“Home.” She drags her eyes away from Lita. “She knows about Renae. Haven told her. But we didn’t want to upset her.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Words of wisdom have never been my strong suit. Need a joke? A crude comment? A clown to break the tension? I’m all over the job.
