Page 43 of Emmett

I watch him move around the kitchen, never staying still for longer than it takes to pour a splash of creamer into his mug, not even as he pulls it to his lips to take a drink. Thewheels turning in his head are visible from here; I’m not sure that he even realizes that he’s fidgeting as much as he is.

He grabs my wrist, turning my watch to face him, and curses under his breath. “I have twenty-five minutes to get to work and the office is twenty away in good traffic. I should go.”

“Pretty boy, sit down for a minute,” I instruct him, and he pauses for a moment before he resumes his constant state of motion. I move toward him, leaving my mug untouched on the countertop, and I grab his face in my hands, pressing my lips to his. “Stop.”

“What’s that for?” He asks.

“You needed to reset,” I tell him as I give his cheek a few gentle pats.

EIGHTEEN

Emmett

Every time I come down these stairs, it’s like walking into a Hallmark made-for-TV movie, and tonight is no different.

Rowan stands in the kitchen, plating desserts that she’s spent the last two hours making, setting them up between the pizzas, wings and salads laid out on the counter. Dad is chatting with her with Sarah strapped to his body via some stretchy scarf-looking thing, bouncing in place while he pats her on the back. Macie is setting out stacks of plates and cups so that we can all eat buffet-style.

“You guys could have woken me up,” I tell them, scratching at my chest. “I can help.”

“Yes!” Rowan shouts. “The madelines need to come out of the oven in two minutes and Macie needs you, specifically, to help her pick out games.”

“Onlyme, huh?”

“I tried, and I was immediately vetoed,” Dad shrugs.

Macie turns to me with a roll of her eyes, because she’s eight going on fifteen and has the attitude to match. “He wanted to getregularcards.”

“A crime!” I shout, throwing my arms out at my sides.

After I pull the cakes from the oven, I trail after Macie to the hall closet which holds the same beaten-down box that I visited before, and I hoist her onto my shoulders so she can pick out a stackof games. She takes her time, thinking out loud as she builds her pile, and I swear I can feel that box staring at me. She throws a deck of ‘regular’ playing cards onto the pile to humor Dad, and I bring her down from my shoulders before heading back toward the kitchen.

“He’sgood, Colt,” I hear Rowan say, trying to keep her voice down. “I think it really was just a nap.”

I stop mid-step, perching behind the wall while they talk – about me.

I’m eavesdropping on my dad and his wife.

In their house.

Christ, this is creepy. And childish. I’m a grown-ass man, for crying out loud.

“I worry about him, baby.” A heavy sigh leaves him. “When he’snotgood…”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“I think I just watched you sprout a new grey hair in real time.”

He lets out a laugh, telling her, “You are being a—”

“No, I’m serious, look.”

“Ow!” He laughs again as she, I’m pretty sure, plucks a hair from his head.

I decide to head out to the living room instead, letting them finish their conversation in private, and I settle onto the couch while Mace stacks the game choices in her personal order of best to worst. We’re joined by Dad and Rowan a few minutes later, Dad carefully setting Sarah onto the floor before settling into the big chair with Ro. The two of them couldn’t be more stuck to each other if their skeletons were welded together.

Uncle Davis’s arrival is announced by Macie squealing as she runs toward him, scolding him for being a whole fifteen minutes late.