Page 68 of Don't Puck Up

Martin had glasses now, and Josh was literally three feet taller than the last photo I’d seen of him. At nine turning fifteen, Bella was out of pigtails and dressed like she was on her way to a grunge concert, while her cousin Trixie looked miserable out of her sweats. She was a point guard and had a hell of a lot of talent, but James was already talking about her needing to do something more ladylike if she wanted to find a decent husband. Apparently, we lived in the 1500s.

“Runt,” David greeted me with a gruff slap to my shoulder.

I stood up and smiled, then held out my hand. His engulfed mine, his grip crushing, and he pulled me into a rough hug before rubbing his knuckles over my hair. I batted his hand away and rolled my eyes. He wasn’t even the tallest of my brothers, but he never failed to make me feel like the smallest.

I gestured to Kam, and he forced a smile. “Kamirah, how are you?”

“Fine, thank you,” she responded, equally cold.

I’d been holding onto a kernel of hope ever since I’d seen V’s message, knowing that if I could tell my parents, if we could make it through today’s lunch, then we could call him. But this was already going about as painlessly as a wisdom tooth extraction without any drugs. It was going to be a long few hours.

The payoff would still be worth it, though.

I greeted the rest of our family seated around the table with a wave. None of my other siblings or their wives got up, and most of them ignored Kam altogether. It set my teeth on edge, my temper flaring that they would be so disrespectful. But what did I expect when she’d never been able to tell her side of the story? I really had made a mess of things for Kam.

Kam’s armor cracked when her mom barely showed her any emotion, merely touching her arms and air kissing her cheek before turning away. The only reason I moved over to the table and didn’t turn right around and walk out the way we came was John, her dad. He stood up slowly but greeted his daughter with a warm smile and a long hug. He held her tight and whispered something to her that I couldn’t hear, but the way she held him right back had the tension seeping out of my shoulders.

With Kam’s hand in his, John limped over to the table and pulled out her chair. “Come, sit.”

I looked around for Dad, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he even home?

“He’s cleaning up after bringing in some more firewood,” Mom explained, seeing that I was searching for him.

“Right.”

Everyone was sitting down around the table, the tension in the air thick. We needed an icebreaker, but when I looked to the kitchen, it was spotless. “Mom, did you need any help?” I asked, hoping it would spur some conversation.

“No, love. You’ve just had a long flight. Sit back and relax.” She cast her gaze over the table and gestured to James. “Why don’t you see if your brother would like a drink?”

“I’m fine,” I answered. “Kam, baby?” She shook her head. Her lips were turned down, her eyes sad. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, then kissed her hair. “We’re fine, thank you.”

Fuck. This was going to be a really long day.

The silence stretched out, and when I opened my mouth to ask about the weather, my sister-in-law, Jenny asked, “How long are you in town for?”

“Just until tomorrow morning. I need to be back on Tuesday for a game. We’re headed to San Francisco for a few days.”

“Where’s Krystal?” Kam asked quietly.

“She couldn’t make it,” her dad responded, patting her hand as Kam drummed her blunt fingernails on the table.

“So, wouldn’t. Got it.” Kam nodded and she exhaled heavily.

Guilt swamped me and I hated myself for being so damn selfish. Kam hid it well, but losing her sister had gutted her. They were best friends. They used to speak every day. But since the TMZ debacle, Krystal had cut off all contact. At least Kam had Carina now, but it wasn’t the same.

“Chris,” Dad called as he walked in from the mudroom. His face was flushed, his nose and ears red from the cold. “Good to see you, son.”

I stood up immediately and hugged him, bracing myself as he knocked the wind out of me with his hearty back slaps. He gave Kam a perfunctory hug too—minus the thumps on her back—and moved to the head of the table.

The timer on the oven went off, and it was the signal for Mom, Kam’s mom, and my sisters-in-law to get up. Kam stood up, but Mom waved her help away, saying, “Sit, Kamirah. We have it under control.”

They had the food dished up in minutes, and once the kids were fed, were back at the table. Kam pressed her lips into a tight smile. Twelve months ago, she would have been expected to help. Now she was an outsider, locked out of their clique.

Conversation started up as Mom’s lasagna, baked meats, and platters of vegetables were consumed. I was glad the attention wasn’t on us for most of it. David spoke incessantly about work and how well things were going, Dad agreeing and singing his praises. Luke talked NFL—he wasn’t a fan, but it was his way of sayingfuck youto me—and James stayed quiet, watching the kids at their picnic setup in the living room.

“Turn that garbage off, Junior,” James ordered his eldest son.

“They were watching the game,” I said, looking over my shoulder.