Page 76 of A Wreck, You Make Me

THE WRECKING THORN

There have beentimes when I’ve heard my siblings say that our mother made a mistake.

As in, she made a mistake having kids too early or having so many of them. Especially when she knew our father was such an asshole. Well, it mostly comes from Conrad, the oldest brother who’s more like a sensible parent than a sibling. Which is why he flipped out when Callie turned up pregnant while still in high school; to be honest, we all flipped out, mostly because the guy who got her pregnant was the biggest asshole in this town, Reed Jackson. Anyway, Con had the same reaction when a year later, Ledger got Tempest pregnant. His reasons were different, but yeah, his reaction was much the same.

All of this is to say, I never once thought Mom made a mistake. I never once thought I would like to havefewersiblings than I do. Because despite our problems, if we didn’t have each other, we never would’ve made it. I know people like to tell stories about us, and while most things tend to be exaggerations,the fact that our life was hard isn’t one. It’s also not an exaggeration that we did stand together, through thick and thin.

All ofthatto say, I never really expected to have anymoresiblings either. But apparently, I do. A sister. A half-sister, Snow.

“It’ll be me,” I say and three pair of eyes focus on me, two blue and one dark brown like mine as they stop whatever they were discussing.

We’re gathered in the backyard: me, Con, Ledger and Callie. Stellan isn’t here because he’s keeping his promise. I told him I needed space and he’s giving it to me. I don’t like it, but it’s necessary. And as much as I wanted this—all of us together, just us siblings, like the old times—I don’t like this either.

I don’t like that we’rediscussingsomething that shouldn’t be up for discussion.

“It’ll be you what?” Con asks from where he’s sitting in the rocking chair.

I’m too restless to sit though, so I’m standing off to the side, by the railing. Because again, I don’t like this. I don’tlikebeing among people, even though those people are my family. I haven’t wanted to be near any people for the last three weeks.

“I’ll be donating the bone marrow,” I say.

Callie sits up in her chair right next to Con. “Hey, you don’t get to decide that. First, you have to be a match. And second, I thought we were going to take a vote, which is why we’re gathered here.”

Ledger is sitting on the steps, his thighs sprawled, his elbows resting on them. At Callie’s words, he chimes in, “If there’s going to be a vote, Callie isn’t a part of it.”

“Excuse me? Why not?”

“First, because you’re our little sister and we wouldn’t allow it. Second, your husband wouldn’t allow it either, because he’d lose his fucking shit if you had to go through another surgery. He still isn’t over your emergency c-section for Flora. And third, youhave two kids who depend on their mother. So it doesn’t make sense for you to be laid up in the hospital again.”

Callie glares at Ledger. “First, you guys don’t get to tell me what to do, because I may be your little sister but I’m not really little anymore. Same goes for my husband. If anything,Itell him what to do. Case in point, he isn’t here, is he? I told him to stay away because this is between us, and we need to deal with this as a family, as siblings. And?—”

“All right, enough. We’re not arguing about this,” Con goes, cutting Callie off. “All of us except Callie will take the test tomorrow and?—”

“No, only I am getting tested tomorrow,” I declare, and when I have their attention once again, I continue, “And if I’m a match, then I’ll be the donor.”

“And what if you’re not a match?” Con asks me.

“Then you’re free to take the test and whoever is a match can donate. But if there’s more than one match, the decision on who will donate goes through me.”

“And why doyouget to decide that?” Ledger argues.

I glance at him. “Because that’s how this works.”

“That’s how what works?” Callie chimes in.

“This.”

She frowns. “What does that even?—”

“You do understand donating bone marrow means surgery, which means recovery time,” Conrad speaks over Callie, watching me carefully.

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” I tell him.

“And youalsounderstand we have a season coming up in a few weeks.”

“Recovery takes about a week to ten days. So I’ll be back for the season.”

“You’ll lose practice time when you’re already falling behind,” Con reminds me.