Christopher gives me a one-armed shrug hug then stows my bags in the back. Scott waves from the front seat. From them, that’s almost on the same level of affection as the head-on attack I’m getting from Jackson at this moment.
“Hey, buddy.” I extract myself from his hold, then kneel down to hug him. “I missed you. Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
“We’re going to have so much fun.”
Jackson keeps up a mostly one-sided babbling conversation, filling me in on the drama and excitement that comes from being five, while we make the short drive to Scott’s house in the Highlands. I’m tired beyond belief, and it’s hard to get a word in, but for now everything seems good and right. I’m home.
A couple of cars are waiting outside of Scott’s house when we arrive, piquing my curiosity. Maybe the boys have arranged a little homecoming party for me. At nine o’clock in the morning. No, that doesn’t seem very likely. It is possible Amelia and the girls came over since they’re out of school for a teacher work day. The front door swings open and Meg waves at me excitedly from the doorway. Behind her, Kelsey—my former co-worker at the car dealership—pops out and jumps up and down.
I freeze. “What is Kelsey doing here?”
“Oh, yeah, about that . . .” Scott hangs back at the car with me while Christopher and Jackson walk up the steps. “Kelsey and I are . . . kind of seeing each other.”
“You’re dating Kelsey?”
“Yes.”
“The girl who used to answer phones at my dealership?”
“And now she’s the woman who took your job.” He shifts from one foot to the other, shoving his hands in his pocket. “It’s still kind of new, and I didn’t want to say anything before it got serious.”
“Is it serious now?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. I like her a lot, but I’m not sure if there’s a future here.”
“Then what is she doing here?” Too late, I realize that sounds kind of harsh and I soften it by adding, “I just mean if you’re not serious and all, it seems like . . .”
“I know. She came over a couple of weeks ago and hit it off with Meg. They’ve been attached at the hip since. They were even talking about having Meg get a job working the front desk at the dealership, and I’m not going to argue with her having an income.” After having her and Christopher live with him virtually rent-free for the past couple of years, I can’t blame him. “So, for now, I guess we’re a couple.” His shoulders drop. “You’re not pissed at me, are you?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“For not saying anything about it. Hell, for even dating her. I guess there’s probably a rule about brothers dating their sister’s friends.”
I wouldn’t exactly call her a friend, but I’m not going to say that now. If it ends up being serious between them, I’m not going on the record as being the mean and confrontational in-law.
I’m not sure what I think about this development. Kelsey was never my favorite person, but we managed to smooth over all of our issues by the time I left the dealership. I am a little thrown off by it, actually. I’m not sure if it’s her showing up super embedded in my personal life that’s rubbing me the wrong way or if it’s the strangeness of seeing her take over my old job and my spot in Meg’s life. It could also be the age difference—Kelsey has to be a good ten years younger than Scott.
I catch the hopefulness on his face, and I know how I have to answer. “I don’t mind. I’m just surprised. That’s all. How did you even get together?”
“Promise you won’t laugh.”
I raise an eyebrow, but cross my heart. “How?”
“Online.” I break my promise and laugh, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He actually looks happier than I’ve seen him since the divorce. That really settles it. If Kelsey makes my big brother this happy, who am I to stand in the way?
When we finally reach the front door, Kelsey pulls me in for a hug. “The look on your face. I bet you didn’t expect to see me here.”
“Nope.” As tightly as she’s squeezing me, it’s about all I can manage to get out.
“When I heard you were coming in town to help Meg with the decorations, I decided to take off a couple of days to pitch in, too. The guys at the shop say ‘hi,’ and Anderson hopes you’ll stop by for a visit.”
Without waiting for me to answer, she and Meg pull me inside to the dining room table, which is piled high with yards of burlap, dozens of mason jars, and dozens of other crafting supplies. I guess Meg wasn’t kidding when she said they’d embraced the whole shabby chic look for the ceremony and reception. It’s kind of rustic for a church wedding and hotel reception, but I’m here as muscle, not to offer my opinion. Besides, I’m not really one to judge anyone on venues or decor. I had my wedding on an automotive showroom floor decorated for Christmas, so there you go.
When I get a spare moment to myself, I abandon the jars I’m hot gluing burlap and tweed ribbon to and dig out my phone to let Brook know I made it safely to Scott’s house. Then, because I can’t resist, I update him on the new gossip.
Me: Guess who Scott is dating?
Brook: ???
Me: Kelsey. From the dealership.
Brook: The one who used to be all over J?
Me: The very same. I guess they met online.
Brook: (Blushing Smiley Face) Are you OK with that?
It’s been half an hour, and so far she’s doing a lot of things right. She’s teasing Scott a little, but not to the point where it crosses the border of being rude. She even helped Jackson rebuild the top of his LEGO tower, which collapsed when he ran it into the room to show me. And she does seem to have a real connection with Meg. They have an easy friendship that I never quite mastered with either of them.
So if there’s any problem here, it’s me.
Me: If Scott is happy, I’m happy.
Brook: (Thumbs Up) Tell my sister I said (Wave).
We may need to work on breaking this emoji obsession of his. It was cute before, but now we might have crossed fully over into nerdiness.
I END UP HAVING A GOOD twenty minutes to myself at the restaurant before Amelia arrives for our dinner meeting. That’s no surprise, considering that I’m perpetually early and she is always running late. Tonight I don’t mind the wait. It gives me a few minutes to think of a convincing argument to make her realize we have to take the step, no matter what. Because I can’t take do this without her.
She said she had something to tell me. That usually isn’t good. I’ve spent the past weeks speculating what that might be. She has been awfully tired lately. Is she sick? Are things going badly at work? Has married life gone south already for her and Wade? All of these possibilities are bad. They’re made all the worse by my pressuring her into doing this project. I can’t even talk to Brook about my concerns. For one, I don’t want to worry him unnecessarily if it turns out not to be a big deal. Two, until she gives me permission, I can’t say anything to him. But if it’s bad, won’t he be mad I didn’t even give him a heads-up I had any inkling?
It could be nothing. She could be excited about a new show she’s discovered on Netflix. It could be a new business idea that has absolutely nothing to do with crocheting and knitting. Like maybe she’s gotten into making canvas tote bags. Amelia, bless her heart, has always been big on new ideas. That’s where she thrives. I’m the person who thinks about what’s practical and what isn’t and figures out a game plan.
This could go either way. Something horrible or completely frivolous. I’m the jerk who can’t decide which way she’d rather it shake out. I mean, of course I want her to be happy and healthy, but I also don’t want her to suddenly change the game on me. I can’t develop a new Netflix addiction during football season, and we’ve invested too much of ourselves into Team Stitches to suddenly go into the tote industry.
Regardless, I should let her lead the conversation—at least in the beginning. The last few conversations I’ve had with her have been so business-oriented.
I’ve practically jumped all over her before we’ve finished our salutations. If I want this to go well, I need to calm down and be less crazy.
The front door of the restaurant swings open and she walks in, sparing me from even more theory making. Amelia’s eyes land on me and her face brightens up. She waves both of her hands like she’s flagging me down in a crowd. Okay, that’s a good sign. I stand up and we have our arms around each other in a tight hug before either of us speaks.
When we finish our epic hug and slide into our seats, I’m already feeling much better about our prospects for tonight. Sticking to my plan, I let her guide our dinner talk where she wants it to go. She starts by saying how much better she’s feeling after a couple of months of being under the weather. (Good, she isn’t dying.) Work has been a little busy, but she just got a raise. (She isn’t in the market for a new job, which is probably for the best, too.) Wade was building a fort with the girls when she left, and they’re planning to camp out in it over the weekend. (That doesn’t sound like marital problems.) They’ve been watching a lot of football. (No Netflix, though the girls miss going to their Uncle Brook’s games every week.) She just caught up on a bunch of special orders she’d agreed to take from Team Stitches, and she has a new pattern in the works. (No mention of canvas, thank the Lord.)
Now that we’ve exhausted most of my list of possible issues, I’m a bit confused. On the one hand, I’m thrilled I don’t have anything major to worry about. On the other, because I don’t have any clear obstacles, I wonder what has her hesitating to pursue this book deal.
“Gosh, I’ve been jabbering on and on.” She laughs at herself and nods when the server asks if she’d like a refill on her drink. “Tell me what’s new with you.”
I could tell her about the issues Brook is having with the Sounds, but I won’t. (It’s not really my story to tell, and I don’t want them to worry.) I could tell her about how creeped out I am by his boss, but that could still be mostly in my head. (Plus, I don’t want it getting back to Brook.) I could tell her how weird things got with J.J. a couple of weeks ago. (But then I’d have to tell her Brook wants to try for a baby, and that’s a conversation I’m not ready to have with anyone.)
So I tell her about how bored I am at work. It’s as good of a segue as any. “This book is coming up at a perfect time for me. It’s like I’m finally finding something meaningful to do with myself and my time out in Seattle. It’s been hard not having interesting work or friends.”
“I get that. I do.” She lets out a heavy sigh and pushes her plate aside. “It’s just not a perfect time for me.”
“Why not?”
“Well . . . I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to tell you, but I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant?”
“We’re due in April.” She pulls out her phone and hands it over with an ultrasound pulled up on the screen. “Wade and the girls are so excited—I’m excited. Can you believe it? We’re going to have another baby.”
“That’s . . .” Great. Wonderful. Any of the things you’re supposed to say to a friend who is expecting. I know the words, but I can’t quite get my lips to say them.
The bright smile on her face slips, and she drops the phone back into her purse. “You’re not happy for us?”
“No.” I shake my head and reach across the table to take her hands before she can punch me with them. “No, I’m so happy for you—thrilled for you. I . . . I’m just surprised.” My people in Nebraska are two for two with dropping big bombs on me. “I didn’t realize you guys were trying.”
“We weren’t.” She eyes me cautiously, but seems somewhat mollified by my explanation. “I guess I’m not the best at family planning—”
“How are you feeling? I’ve been worried about you the past couple of months. You seemed so tired and whatnot—was it the baby?”
“That was the first trimester funk for sure. When I wasn’t puking, I was napping, and when I wasn’t napping, I was puking.”
Another argument for why I’m not sure I’m ready to have a kid. I hate puking. “But you’re feeling better now?”
“Much. I’m still just tired. And a little overwhelmed.” Her gaze drops to our hands. “That’s why I’m not jumping up and down about this whole book project. A few months ago, I would’ve been totally on board with you, but now . . . It just seems like way too much. Like there’s even more at stake. Can I have a little more time to think about it?”
“We’re supposed to pitch to the publisher next week.”
“I know. I still don’t know if I can promise to do something when I have so much else going on in my world. I’m not a kid who can jump up and do everything that sounds fun. I have responsibilities. I don’t see how it can all work out.”
I stare at her in mute silence. I’m not sure what I can say, not without potentially upsetting her. I’m still not even sure what’s happening. Amelia might be one of my best friends, but at this moment, I almost don’t recognize her. With the exception of that one time a year ago, when she thought Wade and I had something going on behind her back (technically we did—we were planning how he’d propose), I’ve never seen her so indecisive and unsure.
This isn’t how our dynamic works. She’s supposed to be the one who prods and encourages me into taking professional leaps. I’m supposed to be the one who worries about what could go wrong. Now that we’ve switched roles, I hardly know what to think let alone do.
I must be on autopilot because I find myself saying, “Maybe we should both give this a long, hard thought before we jump to any decisions. I’d hate for us to miss out on an opportunity, but—” I continue on when she is about to protest, “more than that, I’d hate to ruin our friendship over business.”
She watches me skeptically, like she’s waiting for me to jump up and say, “psych, sucker,” then announce I’m moving forward with or without her. Tempting as that is, it wouldn’t be right. I meant what I said. As disappointing as it would be to take such a big step back in our business, particularly now that I want it so bad, our personal relationship matters more. We’re sisters—by law and friendship.
As relief covers her face, I’m on the verge of bursting into tears. While I’m happy for her and Wade, I can see this new opportunity falling farther out of my reach. On another selfish note, I can practically imagine Brook’s reaction when he finds out his sister is having another baby and I won’t consent to having even one. He won’t push me or pressure me, but he’ll still be disappointed all over again.
Disappointment seems to be a pretty frequent symptom in my world right now, for myself and the people in it.
WHEN I GET BACK FROM dinner, I’m in no mood for watching the last half of Monday Night Football or talking about Scott’s fantasy team—they’re looking good this year—or hearing more about Meg’s ideas for the reception decor, so I excuse myself to the guest bedroom with little more than a “good night.” It isn’t terribly polite of me, but I’m not feeling terribly polite.
Stripping out of the dress I’d worn for dinner, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and one of Brook’s old football T-shirts. I should probably call my better half to chat for a few minutes before I go to sleep, but I stretch out on the bed and close my eyes, hoping to fight off the throbbing ache behind my eyes that’s threatening to spread throughout my whole head.
There’s a knock at the door, and I crack open my eyes. “Yes?”
Scott hesitates at the door. “Do you have a minute?”
I let out a sigh and nod, gesturing him inside. He closes the door behind him, which puts me on edge all over again. “What’s going on?
“Look, there’s something I just found out. I’m not sure if I should tell you, but . . .”
Oh God. If he’s about to say Christopher and Meg are having a baby, I’ll freak out. Is there something in the water? Is everyone conspiring behind my back to force my hand on this decision? “What is it?”
“I overheard something about J.J. during our watch party yesterd
ay.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to hear it, and I don’t know if I should be telling you, but . . .”
“What is it?”
“It’s something Wade said to Dylan. Something about how he didn’t know what would happen when his suspension was up. How he was supposed to get some kind of counseling before he came back. I would’ve asked them what he meant, seeing as how J.J. is staying with you guys, but . . . they stopped talking as soon as I got in the room. They changed the subject to this year’s best sleepers and most overrated keepers.”
“J.J. was suspended?”
“That’s what it sounds like. Look, I normally wouldn’t say anything about something like this, when it really isn’t my business. But if J.J. did something to get suspended, if he is supposed to be going through counseling, I don’t want anything to go wrong while he’s staying with you.”
Touched by my brother’s concern, I get up and throw my arms around his neck. “You’re a good big brother.”
“Yeah, well . . .” He gives my back a quick pat. “You’ll find out what’s going on?”
“I’ll take care of it.” No matter how I left things with Amelia, I’m going to make a point to bump into Wade this week. Once I have him good and cornered, I’ll pounce. Once I know everything, I’ll tell Brook and we’ll figure out what to do about J.J.
I knew it. I knew there had to be something more at stake than a freely offered leave of absence. I just wonder why J.J. lied to us. What big secret is he trying to keep?
Week Eight Recap: Another Tough Loss for Team MacLaughlin
Well, that’s too bad. For the second week in a row, Team MacLaughlin has taken a beating. And for the second week in a row, it appears she took it lying down.
Veteran Quarterback Todd Northwood departed his game early with what appears to be a case of turf toe. He’s listed as out for next week, so Team MacLaughlin is going to have to think fast or else settle with her backup, the consistently inconsistent Alex Michaels. Here’s hoping North makes a speedy recovery—or she makes a big trade—otherwise her hopes for redemption are over.
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