Page 6 of My Return to the Walter Boys (My Life with the Walter Boys #2)
The rest of my first night back was spent reconnecting with the Walters.
After dinner, George built a bonfire in the backyard, and we all sat around it swapping stories about summer.
Lee recounted a disastrous family camping trip that made me laugh so hard my sides ached, and I told them all about Danny’s first experience on the subway, where he was pelted with gummy bears by a woman in a ball gown for no reason other than New York was weird.
It was well past midnight when I finally called it a day and went to bed.
I hurried through my nighttime routine—teeth brushed, face scrubbed, hair detangled—before trudging upstairs to my room.
Katherine’s old art studio was a welcome sight.
I’d missed the colorful wall murals and sash windows that gave me several different views of the ranch.
Even the creaky floorboards made me smile.
The last thing I did before turning off the light was remove my necklace—a dried lavender stem encased in a pendant—and tuck it into the jewelry case on my dresser.
It belonged to my mother originally, a prized possession and signature accessory, and although I’d long admired it, I couldn’t bring myself to claim the delicate piece after her death.
That changed last month when I finally began the process of cleaning out my parents’ room.
The moment I came across the necklace on her vanity, I’d fastened the silver chain around my neck.
Now, I wore it on occasion to feel closer to her.
By the time I climbed into bed, my exhaustion was so great I thought I’d fall asleep the second my head hit the pillow. After all, I could barely keep my eyes open.
Things had changed for me over the summer.
At the beginning of the year, Uncle Richard sent me away from New York because he thought I wasn’t handling my grief well.
Not only did he think it was unhealthy for me to remain in the home my family would never return to, but he suggested I was using homework, school organizations, and volunteer work as a coping mechanism; if I burned the candle at both ends, then I could exhaust myself to the point of apathy.
Moving in with the Walters had helped to an extent; I learned important lessons about letting loose and being less of a perfectionist.
But it wasn’t until I returned to the city and was forced to face my grief by once more living in a place where my memories were inescapable that I realized Uncle Richard was right—I’d been running from the pain from the moment my family passed.
I’d acted no differently in Colorado. Instead of school and clubs, I used Alex and Cole as a diversion.
Getting to know both boys made it possible for me to ignore the crushing weight of my loss.
With that realization came both guilt and regret.
My family was gone, and rather than mourning them, I dove straight into dating and concerned myself with unimportant things like flirting and kissing.
Now, I needed to stop distracting myself.
Lucy and my parents deserved better. I deserved better, and Cole did too.
Alex would obviously be fine; we parted on good terms, and he admitted to using me as much as I had him.
I wasn’t sure about Cole, though, since nothing was ever simple with him; drama followed in his wake at every turn.
We weren’t even dating, and our relationship was a labyrinth of land mines and obstacles.
On top of that, Cole was leaving, and I needed to refocus on my own education.
As much as I cared about him, I couldn’t date Cole Walter.
Life would be less complicated if we just stayed friends.
***
The next day, I watched the sun rise over the ranch while waiting for Nathan to join me for our morning run.
When he failed to appear before I finished stretching, I figured he overslept and decided to go without him.
The Walter kids made a sport of sleeping in on Saturdays, so I was unsurprised to find the house still silent when I came back.
It wasn’t until I neared the kitchen and caught the tail end of an argument that I realized someone else was awake.
“…barely seven and you’re just getting home,” Katherine was saying. “That’s unacceptable.”
“I already told you I fell asleep watching a movie at a friend’s house,” someone replied, but I wasn’t sure who. Isaac maybe? “What more do you want me to say? It was an honest mistake, I swear.”
“I’d be willing to give you the benefit of the doubt if this was your first offense, but you’ve been pushing limits and breaking house rules all summer.” Based on her tone alone, I could easily picture Katherine’s unimpressed expression. “I’m done putting up with this kind of behavior.”
The coffee maker beeped, signaling the end of a brew.
“Sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.” Yes, that definitely sounded like Isaac. I could tell by the lack of regret in his voice.
“Be that as it may, you’re still grounded.”
“ What? Aunt Kathy, that’s not fair!” he complained. “Everyone is going to the block party.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before staying out past curfew and sneaking in at the crack of dawn,” she replied without an ounce of sympathy.
“This is bullshit!”
A sudden, heavy thunk made me peek around the corner. My eyes bulged at the sight of a hole in the drywall and Isaac shaking out his fist, knuckles bloody.
Katherine sprang to her feet, toppling over the chair she’d been sitting in. “ Isaac Walter! ”
Not wanting to get caught in the cross fire, I backed away from the kitchen as quietly as possible and went to grab my caddy.
If I showered before breakfast, hopefully Katherine and Isaac would be done fighting by the time I returned.
While I wasn’t surprised that he tried to sneak into the house after missing curfew, I found his violent reaction to a basic grounding baffling.
Isaac was many things, but hotheaded wasn’t one of them.
If I hadn’t seen proof with my own eyes, I never would have believed he punched a wall.
As I climbed the stairs, carefully picking my way around stray socks and toys, my chest fluttered.
The discomfort passed so quickly I almost disregarded the feeling, but as I reflected on yesterday, I couldn’t help but notice something had changed about the Walter household while I was away.
Sure, it was still the loud, chaotic home I’d been introduced to at the start of the year, but there were differences too: Danny and Cole’s absence, Alex and Kim’s new relationship, the dark circles under Nathan’s eyes, Isaac’s attitude.
Each of these things would have been insignificant on its own.
Added together, though? They were hard to ignore.
Maybe I was overreacting, but the realization that things were not quite right left me feeling uneasy.
***
Since Isaac was grounded, only four of us climbed into the truck when it was time to leave for the block party, and the drive into town felt…
wrong somehow. While it was infinitely more comfortable considering everyone had their own seat, I missed the dynamic energy that defined our usual trips to and from school.
Without Cole’s calm confidence behind the wheel, Isaac’s endless gossiping, or Danny’s ruthless guarding of the aux cord to ensure everyone heard a song of their choosing, the ride was quiet in a way that was jarring.
By the time Alex found a parking spot a few blocks away from the town square, I was itching to escape.
“Okay, everyone. Listen up,” Alex said as he shifted into park and killed the engine. “I promised to drive Kim home, and she has a curfew, so you all need to be back here by eleven fifteen. If you’re not, then I’ll assume you’ve found a different ride and leave without you, so don’t be—”
Lee threw open the passenger-side door, dropped his skateboard to the ground, and jumped out in the middle of Alex’s speech.
“Hey, are you even listening? If you’re late—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lee said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve heard this speech before, and just so you know, Cole does it better. Catch you losers later.”
Alex’s mouth fell open, but he quickly rearranged his expression into a scowl. “Always such an asshole,” he muttered under his breath.
Nathan and I stifled our laughter as we exited the truck.
Once we were both standing on the sidewalk, Alex locked the doors, grumbled a goodbye, and took off to find Kim, leaving the two of us to walk together.
The sound of live music steadily grew louder as we approached, and when we reached our destination two minutes later, Nathan was bobbing his head along with a bluesy rock song I didn’t recognize.
I knew block parties were common in certain parts of New York City, but it wasn’t something one experienced living on the Upper West Side.
This seemed more like a cross between a farmers market and a festival.
The four streets comprising downtown were closed off from traffic, and as a result, there were people everywhere: waiting in line at one of the many food trucks; wandering through the merchandise booths set up by local businesses; playing lawn games like cornhole, bocce ball, and ladder toss; and standing around in clusters with drinks in hand.
Packs of children roamed the outskirts on bikes while families picnicked in the small park at the center of the square.
“So this is a block party?”
“Not in the traditional sense,” Nathan replied, stepping around one of the white-and-orange barricades.
“This is much bigger and more commercialized. My dad said the original started in a local neighborhood back in the nineties, but when it grew out of control, the town council voted to sponsor the event and move it here.”
“What’s your favorite thing to do?” I asked.