“It’s a book of October’s pregnancy. I knew you’d want every detail when you found out the baby was yours, so I kept track of it all. It’s stats from every doctor’s appointment, photos of her bump growing every week, ultrasound printouts...” She tucked in beside him at the tall counter in the kitchen and flipped to a page in the middle. “Here’s a list of all the things that made her throw up, and on this side is all the cravings. Then here’s the things she did to take care of the baby and herself.” She wrapped her arms around Von’s neck. “It’s like you didn’t miss a thing now.”
“I can see that.” Von’s eyes raked in every detail of the pages, taking his time flipping through each one, laughing and commenting when some new tidbit struck him. “You really kept track of everything. It’s even got her weight in here.”
I paled. “Hey, wait a second.” I saddled up next to Von to peer over his shoulder, ready to defend myself against the incriminating evidence. I frowned. “It doesn’t have my weight in here.”
“Gotcha.” Von took the opportunity with me so close to give my lips a light kiss. He swept the kitchen in a brush of blue and gold. It quickly faded and left us both with a contented sigh while Mariang screeched her happiness. “That’s all I wanted for my birthday. Buckets of you.”
I moved to the other side of the counter with pink cheeks to stand next to Danny, who I knew wouldn’t fawn over our kiss. Mariang was beside herself. “Is that... Are you... Did I just... Are you two back together, then?” She was already hopping. Her arms flung around Von again, kissing his cheek before she flitted to me to do the same.
I held up my hand to stave off her elation. “We’re not back together. We’re figuring things out for now.”
Von stared at me, his happiness hitting a decrescendo as he fixed me with a wounded look. I’m not sure what he was expecting, but without at least a conversation, I didn’t know why he assumed we were together.
Von swallowed hard before a breezy smile reappeared on his lips. He held out his hands expectantly. “More presents! I demand a truckload!”
Boston slid a long box to Von, who opened it with less flourish. He pulled out a long silver knife that looked a little worn, but was freshly polished. “It was Bishop’s,” he said, and I could tell by the forced level chin that he was trying to be nonchalant about it. “I think he’d want you to have it. Keep the family safe and all. You were the one who always looked after us. It should go to you.”
Von held it with reverent appreciation, turning it over before sliding it into its sheath. He set it down and stood, eyeing Boston with a dramatic expression that made me wary. “Come here, you!” Then Von tackled Boston off his stool in a bear hug that was equal parts forceful and affectionate.
Boston fell to the floor with an “oof!” The two quickly devolved into wrestling cubs, rolling around on the kitchen floor, cuffing and trying to dominate with laughter that just kept coming. It was the perfect way to show Boston he was loved, and that his gift had hit right to the heart of who Von was.
The two recovered after Lynna came in and started whapping them with her dish towel, warning them to take it outside before they made a mess of her kitchen. They reclaimed their stools with winded matching grins, shoving each other lightheartedly as they continued eating their breakfast.
Boston looked up from his porridge to me. “You’re up, sis.”
I shook my head a miniscule amount, hoping he’d let it go. “We don’t do birthday stuff in my family, so I didn’t get you anything, Von. I hope that’s alright.”
Von smiled at me, ever the good sport for not looking even a little crestfallen. “That’s alright, Peach. You gave me the best gift this morning, and you’re carrying my baby. You’re like, a walking present.”
Danny looked up at the ceiling. “Finally, a likeminded person. Birthday gifts are such rubbish.”
Mariang’s tone steeled, which was so uncharacteristic of her passive dealings with Danny that I couldn’t help but gawk. “Danny, just let Von be happy this one day! No one’s asked you to give your own brother a present. I simply asked you not to rain on his parade this year. He gets one parade a year. Let him enjoy it for once.”
Danny froze at being publicly chastised. No one spoke for a solid eight seconds. Finally Boston broke the tension. “October, give Von your gift.”
“I told you, I didn’t get him anything.”
Boston’s face soured. “Why would you say that? You were so excited putting it together. He’ll love it.”
I didn’t know how to tell Boston that I was pretty sure Von wouldn’t love it. Mariang had gotten him the most precious handmade gift. Ezra had given him the coolest gift. Boston had given him the most sentimental gift. Lynna had made him a blood cake, winning the award for the weirdest gift. Mine was stupid, and I didn’t want Von to think I was stupid. “I’m sorry, Von. I didn’t get you anything.”
“It’s fine, Peach. I really don’t care.”
Boston’s spoon clanged in his empty bowl. “You’re being a coward, and I don’t know why. Come on, Von. I’ll show you what she made you.”
I looked up at Ezra, hoping he’d intervene, but he wrapped his arms around Von and Mariang, corralling them up the stairs. I hung back with Danny, wringing my hands and wanting to hide. “It’s not finished! I can do it better. I just need more time, Von.” I looked up at Danny, fear plain on my face. “I’m going for a walk, okay?”
Danny went with me to the mud room off the side of the kitchen. He grabbed his coat off the hook, and handed me mine. “Let’s go.”
Twenty-Four.
A Nice Person
“Let’s go quicker,” I insisted, pushing Danny out the backdoor and slamming it shut behind us. I gusted out a breath of relief at not seeing the polite smile Von was no doubt mustering up for my best effort at fitting in. I set the stride at a brisk walk, even though I knew I couldn’t maintain the pace for long.
“Hold on, kid. You on a mission or something?”
“Yeah. I need to get as far away from the house as possible. I suck at birthdays. I shouldn’t have tried.”
“Birthdays are stupid. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
“Why do you hate birthdays so much? What gives? Did your dog die on your birthday or something?”
Danny was quiet for a few beats, and I could tell he was judging whether or not to tell me the raw truth of it. His hands in his jacket pockets started moving as he spoke. “My dad left us for good on my birthday. Never had the taste for birthday cake after that.”
I stopped short, my mouth dropping open that he’d given me a real reason, horrible as the truth was. “Oh, man. That’s terrible. I’m sorry, Danny.”
Danny shrugged. “Good riddance. I mean, who cares now, yeah? But I didn’t see the point of a celebration after that. Mariang tries, but I’m not who she wishes I was sometimes. Like with the baby book for Von. She’s been working on that for months, trying to get me involved. She’s a good person, and I wish she’d get it into her head that I’m just not.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply strolled next to him on the path until words finally came to me. “She sees the best in everyone, and likes it when the people she loves feel treasured. Not a bad quality.”
“Not a bad quality, just fruitless when it comes to me. I’m not interested in jumping up and down for Von, of all people, on a day that’s pretty much just like all the others.”
“I’m not into birthdays either. When’s yours?”
“April 20th.”
“How about I cut you a deal? On April 20th, I won’t wish you a happy birthday or get you a stupid present. We’ll go to the bar, and I’ll buy you a drink. We’ll shoot pool and not talk about your birthday or anything super happy skippy the whole night. I might even let you win at darts. Sound good?”
Danny shot me a sideways smile. “Sounds like Heaven. Not a bad sister, I guess. If I have to have one and all.”
“I love you, too,” I offered, kno
wing that was the equivalent. We got closer to the trees that lined the property, sticking to the dirt path as the frigid air nipped at us. “It’s colder than I thought out here. Sorry for making you come. I had to escape.”
“So why don’t you like birthdays?” Danny surprised me with a question that could lead to an actual deep conversation.
I sighed, knowing I couldn’t punk out on him after he’d just shared his awful reason. I told him exactly what I’d shared with Von. That Bev used my birth month as an excuse to unload all her resentment of life onto me. “My old friend, Judge, used to make a big deal out of my birthday. His mama would make me a cake, and he’d always have a present for me. Wrapped it and everything. When things went south between him and me, birthdays sort of died. I lost Judge and birthdays all in one go. There wasn’t anyone in my life who made a big deal out of it like he did, so I stopped caring so much. Not to be a downer, but I kinda hate the whole institution. Maybe I’d feel happier about it all if Bev had been different, but it is what it is.”
Danny was quiet a few beats. “That’s terrible.”
“I made my peace with it. It only sucks when people like Von actually do get into the whole birthday thing, and I have very little experience with the ritual. I want to make it nice for him, but I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s like an alien from outer space trying to eat with chopsticks. I have very little frame of reference.”
“Von’s easy to please. He’s a simple kind of tosser.”
I shot Danny a sideways glance. “You can drop that kinda talk around me, FYI.”
“Sorry. He’s simple, so get him a sticker, and he’s happy.”
“Maybe I should’ve gotten him a sticker instead. Feel like a trip to the store? I really don’t want to go back inside.”
Danny chuckled. “You’re such a chicken. Just rip off the bandage, already. Von’s in love with you. He only cares that you’re here, and that you forgave him.”
“I have a feeling he’d like it better if my forgiveness came giftwrapped.”
Danny cleared his throat. “So how about next October, I say nothing mean to you for the whole month. I’ll pick a day at random and take you to the bar to see who can beat who at quarters.”
“Spoiler alert: I’m awesome at quarters.”
Danny shot me half a smile. “Then I guess the birthday girl will have to win.”
I elbowed him, which was our version of a hug. “That sounds nice. Thanks.”
Danny was quiet as we walked, and I could tell by his stiff movements that he was cold, but didn’t want to be the first one to cave. “I don’t want to be like my dad. Or your mum, actually. I want to be a good parent who’s around. And I know I can be around, so I’m not worried about that. I’m more bothered that I’ll do the things I’m supposed to do, be around, keep the baby and Mariang safe, but it won’t matter. I’m certain the baby’s going to hate me. I don’t... I don’t have the kid-friendly face. Kids don’t like me, generally speaking.”
“You don’t have a kid-friendly face? I don’t believe it,” I teased. We walked a few more beats before I elbowed him again. “I think half the job is being there and being good to your kid. The other half is a mix of effort and dumb luck. If your kid’s into outer space, be an expert on every planet in the whole freaking sky.”
“The ‘whole freaking sky’? That’s a lot.”
“Ollie was a great dad. He can school you better than I can. But you know, off the top of my head, if you want your kid to like you, maybe try being nicer.”
Danny shook his head as if to scold me. “You put too high a premium on being nice. Nice doesn’t get the job done.”
“Neither does being mean. If I wanted to learn something, Ollie and Allie dove in headfirst. When I was nervous about learning to give stitches, Ollie let me practice on him.” I softened at the memory. “I’d punked out in nursing school when we had to learn to do sutures. Ollie gave me this long pep talk about facing the difficult things in life head-on. Then he takes a steak knife and calmly slices clean across the skin on his left arm.”
Danny’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s dedication.”
“He had faith in me. He talked me through all the steps of cleaning the cut, then he walked me steadily through the whole suture, giving me buckets of encouragement. I never would’ve made it over that hurtle without him. After that, I didn’t have such a problem with it.”
“You’re right; that’s solid parenting. Maybe I will talk to Ollie if I get stuck.”
“That’s my plan. I’m not a kid person, either. Von oozes charm and fun. I’m the rules girl. I’m the wash your hands before supper girl. No one wants to play with that girl, let me tell ya.”
Danny kept his eyes forward. “You don’t have to worry about the whole mum part of the job. Everybody who meets you adores you. And I’ve yet to see you tolerate being dreadful at anything.”
I gaped up at Danny. “Be careful. I’m almost starting to believe you’re investing in that crappy ‘being nice’ stock. Next step’s holding the door open for people for no good reason.”
Danny bumped me with his hip. “I hold the door open for you and Mariang all the time.”
“Well, then it’s too late for you. You’re a total Miss Manners goner. Next step, charity work.”
Danny chuckled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket when it buzzed. “That’ll be Ezra. Ho, actually Von. I’m guessing it’s for you.”
“I’m not in. He’ll be polite, but I know it’s not what he wants. He said it as a joke, and I did it all wrong. I suck at birthdays!”
Danny texted back with surprising dexterity, despite his fat thumbs. “He says if you don’t come home now, he’s coming to bring you back inside.”
I weighed the threat and decided to face the music, stopping our progression and turning back to the mansion. “Might as well get it over with. Thanks for the escape.”
“I needed the fresh air, too. Mariang’s in full-on happy birthday to the world mode. She’s hit a new level of ecstatic with the whole being pregnant thing. I’m happy too, of course.”
“You show it so well.”
“Shut it. I am happy. But it’s hitting me how dreadful I might be at the whole parenting thing. I’m starting to get scared the more real it all gets. I mean, I yelled at Alton once for dropping his dinner plate. Who yells at a five-year-old?”
“Um, a seven-year-old? You were a kid, Danny.”
“I still shout sometimes when I lose my temper.”
“You’re a yeller? That’s surprising,” I teased. “Danny, you’re in complete control of what kind of parent you want to be. If you don’t want to be a dad with a hot temper, then try meditation. Go see a shrink. Try Anger Management classes. Smile more. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but be nicer. It’s easier than you think.”
“Again with that niceness rubbish.”
“You could always try yelling at the poor kid. I’m guessing that’s the thing that’s put a strain on your relationships with your brothers, though.”
“They’ve got Von. They don’t need me to put on a show for them. They’re grown.”
“Are you kidding me with this? Boston’s falling apart right in front of you. And Von puts on a good face, but it hurts him when you run him down like you do. You want your kid to have a good life? I think it’s time you started being a good person to everyone, not just Ezra and Mariang.”
“I’m not mean to you.”
I scoffed in response.
“Well, I’m not that mean.”
“Well, you can’t be that mean to your kid. Or mine, for that matter. You’re going to be Uncle Danny. I gotta tell you, if you start running September down the way you do Von, I’ll lay you flat out. Seriously, Danny. I’ve got no problem taking you down if you pull your crap on my daughter.”
Danny’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not going to be hard on your kid.”
“What if she wants to be a painter, like Von?”
; “It’s a waste of time,” he spouted, and then caught himself. “But I’ll keep my mouth shut about it.”
“Not good enough. Try harder. What’s something a nice person would do?”
Danny was at a loss, searching through his mental Rolodex for behavior he’d seen modeled around him. “Maybe I’ll get her some paints? Lie to her when she paints something senseless and tell her I adore it?”
“That’s a start. See? Not so hard. Just think first before you open your mouth and a fist pops out.”
“I’m going to be terrible at this.”
I pressed on. “What if September wants to ride a pony?”
Danny shrugged. “Show her pictures of a horse?”
I stopped, my eyes growing serious. “No. You take her to the fair, or go with her to stables to see them. You watch movies with horses in them and read her horse-themed kids’ books. Then you get down on your hands and knees and offer to be her pony to ride around the house.”
“Can you honestly picture me doing that?”
“Loving someone means getting down on your hands and knees on a daily basis. Be there for your kid. Keep them safe, sure, but also keep their imaginations from being crushed. I swear, Danny. You better get real good at this real fast. My daughter won’t make her imagination small just so you don’t have to try something that makes you uncomfortable.”
Danny grumbled, but his response was cut short by Von, who was waiting in the backyard for us, his frustration in full swing. “I thought we weren’t going to run out on each other anymore. Or was that rule only for me?”
I ducked my head, knowing I was being a big chicken, and walked with Danny into the house. As we passed the threshold, Danny stuck out his hand to Von, leaving it there to hang between them.
Von examined the normal gesture that was odd on the hard man. “You’re my brother. Happy birthday, Von,” Danny offered. I could tell he was trying to be nice, but had no idea how to do it organically. The firm handshake was a good start, the words were friendly, but his perma-glower needed work. The well-wish almost sounded like a threat, like, “Don’t you dare have a happy birthday, Von. I’ll be watching.”
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