Page 52

Stunned, I glance across at Alana and find her eyes glassy with tears and humor.

“That’s one way to simplify things,” I decide. Because fuck, what else do I say ? “Chris memorizes these sorts of things, too. I don’t know where you keep it all in your brain, but it hurts mine every time one of you throws numerical did you knows at me.”

“Did you know three hundred million cells die in the human body every minute?”

“Alright,” Alana twists in her seat and looks over at her son.

We bounce our way out of the driveway and onto the tar road, and in just a few minutes, we’re both brutally aware we’ll be entering the cemetery.

“Can we talk about something else? Like, did you know a crocodile cannot stick its own tongue out?”

He smiles. “Did you know the average person eats around seventy insects over their lifetime while they’re sleeping?”

My stomach jumps with disgust. Dread. Remembering the fucking bugs that openly crawled on me as a child, I loathe to accept the fact my brother and I are probably ‘ above average ’ on this one.

And, like Alana can read my mind, she places her hand on my stomach and offers quiet kindness when our eyes meet. Comfort, even when she’s the one who needs comforting. Protection, though it’s really not her job.

“Give us fun facts, honey. Fun . Not gross or scary or morbid.”

“Did you know Los Angeles’ full name is actually El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de los ángeles de Porciúncula ? And you can remember which Disney is at which location because Disney World has the OR, for Orlando, and Disneyland has the LA for Los Angeles.”

Bugs are done. I bring the car to a stop at an intersection and glance back to search Franky’s eyes. “Really?”

He closes his book and sets his hands on top, grinning. “Yep. Did you know Maine is the only US state that has a one-syllable name?”

“You just soak all this stuff up and bring it out like a party trick when you have an audience?” Shaking my head, I drive through the intersection when both sides are clear.

“I could barely keep up with my actual school curriculum, and most of that is gone, too, but you’re out here speaking a whole new language with El Pueblo Nuestra something something . ”

“You know a bunch of words in Japanese,” he counters. “And how to fight someone, but in a safe way. Some people just swing their arms around and hit things, but you know how to do it for a sport. That’s smart.”

“This is true,” Alana murmurs. “You claimed I was smarter than you, but I can’t speak Japanese, and I don’t remember ninety-nine percent of the names of all the moves you teach in the gym.”

“You forget the names, but you know the actions.” And since her hand is still on my stomach, I place mine over the top. “And you wrote a book.”

“Did you know only three percent of people who start a book actually finish it?” Franky inserts. “And of the three percent, less than one percent of those actually publish it.”

“Well, I haven’t published.” She gently peels her hand from beneath mine and drags down the mirrored visor so she can check her face and hair. “I probably won’t publish it. But maybe I’ll write a different one.”

The cemetery overflows with mourners as I turn off the main road and into the narrow driveway.

A sea of black, howling men and women who wish desperately to benefit from the attention of someone else’s loss.

Yeah, I know. I’m a prick . Chris and Ollie are already here, hanging out on the fringes, watching, waiting for our arrival. Eliza, too, and their sister, Raquel .

I pull up in the first available parking slip I can find, but before I open the doors and let the rest of the world in, I cut the engine and turn to Alana first. “Do you feel like you have a different story to tell now?”

“Maybe.” She pushes the visor back up. “Or maybe I can take the old story and rework the ending. The original grates on me.”

“Is that why you never agreed to the deal?”

“My mom’s story is about you, Tommy.”

My heart simply fucking stops. Dead in my chest, and yet, impossibly, butterfly wings bat around in my stomach. “What?”

Alana tries to lean between our seats to do that thing moms do—the shut the hell up eyes that never fail to silence a child—but I press my hand to her chest and move her out of the way so I can be the one to look at him. “Your mom wrote a book about me?”

“Tommy—”

Franky shrugs. “She didn’t name the guy your name. And she didn’t name the girl her name. But she wrote about a fighter who had a twin brother. And how they were her best friends and how the girl moved to New York and had a baby and?—”

“Enough.” Alana fists my hair and yanks me back.

Then she meets her son’s eyes and silences him with a single look.

Unsnapping her seatbelt and pushing out of her door, she comes around and opens his, nervously fixing his collar while mourners watch every move we make.

Every breath. Every shift of her hands. “This probably won’t be fun, okay?

But you don’t have to leave my side, not even for a single second.

If someone tries to talk to you or tries to ask you to come to them, and you don’t want to, you can say no. ”

“Can I stand with Chris sometimes?” He scoots across the seat and dangles his legs out the door, and even with an aching heart, I come around and become their guard, shielding them from the masses while they get themselves organized. “But I want to be with you, too.”

“Sure, honey. We’ll bring Chris wherever we go. And Tommy, too. Because I need you, and you need Chris, and Chris needs Tommy, and Tommy…”

Needs Alana.

What thing do you want to tell me?

Will it hurt more than not knowing?

She clears her throat, tense as she helps him from the car and takes his hand in hers. Then she comes around, warmth filling her cheeks and emotion glittering in her eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay.” I set my hand on the small of her back and escort her forward. I’d rather drape my arm over her shoulders and tuck her against my side, but I know it’s not what she’d prefer. And today, and for the rest of my life, everything I do will be based on what she wants.

“Hey.” Chris wanders closer first. The bravest one, which is odd since social gatherings are his least favorite thing to participate in.

He leans in and presses a kiss to Alana’s cheek— I will not smash his face.

I will not smash his face. I love my brother, so I will not smash his face —then he offers a fist for Franky and grins when the boy taps it.

“You look pretty good, kiddo. Clean up nicely.”

He pushes the glasses up his nose and tilts his head back to meet Chris’ stare. “You do, too. Did my mom pick out your pants also?”

He snorts, rubbing his mouth as though to hide his humor. Because God forbid anyone laughs at a funeral in front of hundreds of fuddy-duddies.

“I picked these out myself. But thanks for noticing.”

“Hi, Ollie.” Alana accepts his kiss when he leans in and brushes one over her cheek. Then Eliza steps forward, tension turning Alana’s body into stone.

It’s a rivalry we’ve not yet put to bed.

“Sorry your mom died.” She was always our youngest. Silliest. Last to mature and quickest to explode. She doesn’t offer a kiss or a hug. But she flashes a bright smile and taps Alana’s arm. Good game. “I’ll stop picking on you now. If Tommy’s happy, I’m happy.”

“And if he’s not?” She clutches Franky’s hand in both of hers. “What if I’m mean to him again next week?”

“Then I’ll hunt you down and teach you a rear naked choke. But you probably won’t be awake long enough to remember the steps.”

“That’s enough.” Oliver wraps his arm around his sister’s neck and pulls her out of the way. “There’s something wrong with you, Lize. I swear you like causing trouble.”

“It’s been a minute.” The final Darling sibling steps forward next. Platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes; Raquel is my type exactly, in theory. But we never went there. We didn’t even consider it.

Her lips glitter a perfect red, but when she leans in to hug Alana and kisses her cheek, none of the color transfers. “You look good, Lana.”

“You, too. How’s the city and life as not-a-doctor?”

She snorts, shedding the awkwardness ever present at funerals. “You heard that, too? Ya know, my boss is gonna be pissed when she finds out I’ve been faking my qualifications all this time.”

“Knowing you?” I question. “I’d bet your boss is pissed always, simply because she has to work with you every day. You coming back to Plainview anytime soon?”

“I’m here right now, aren’t I?” She scoops her purse onto her arm, resting the straps at her elbow, and peeks over her shoulder.

“Anyone else feel like taking a decontamination shower after this?

I swear, the only people who actually give a shit are standing right here.

All the rest of ‘em just hate the idea of missing out on the most exciting thing to happen in Plainview this month.”

“I’m here! Oh my god !” A woman tip-toe-runs across the cemetery lawn, drawing eyes and snide lip-upturns from scandalized mourners. “Jesus, Alana! I’m here. I made it. I’m not late.”

It’s funny how our group tightens just a little more.

How Chris and Oliver, and even Eliza, step closer and protect those they considered the enemy not so long ago, because now, as a woman in heels and a skirt suit, long tan legs, and flowing brown hair, noisily dashes this way, they create a wall of safety.

The woman walk-runs on uneven grass. Big, brown eyes zeroing in on those we shield behind us.

She has expressive eyebrows and, evidently , zero spatial awareness, because she bowls straight through us, dragging Alana into a hug and tugging Franky in, too, so his poor face is crushed against the woman’s ribs.

“It took me half an hour to get here when the GPS said it would only be three minutes.” She leans back, cupping Alana’s cheek. “Someone’s a filthy rotten liar, or the GPS lady doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”

“It couldn’t be that you didn’t listen to the instructions, right?” Alana’s eyes glitter with unshed tears. Her jaw trembles. And then she yanks her friend in again and squeezes extra tight. “Holy shit, it’s good to see you, Fox.”

“Aw, hey.” She swipes the tears from Alana’s cheeks. “Don’t cry for me, pretty girl. I told you I’d come.”

“Uh, excuse me, hi?” Eliza muscles her way in. “It might be normal in New York for folks to conduct a conversation and rudely exclude others, but here in Plainview?—”

“Here, people are rude to your face,” Alana finishes with a soft chuckle. She wipes her face and gestures. “That’s Eliza Darling. She’s mean.”

Protective, Fox sneers at Eliza’s offered hand. “I’ve heard about you. I sharpened the heel of my Louboutins especially for this visit. ”

“And that’s Oliver.” Alana marches right over the girl drama. “He’s Eliza’s brother. Raquel,” she adds, as Fox moves from one person to the next. “They’re siblings. Tommy?—”

She burns me to a damn crisp. Her stare vengeful and unkind.

“I know of you. I’ll reserve my judgment for now.

” Then she turns on her own to the only other person here who looks just like me.

“Makes you Christian.” She takes his hand and studies him with long sweeps of her eyes.

“Heard about you, too. I’m assured you’re mostly decent to my friend. ”

“Mostly.” He looks her up and down, too. Appreciating, maybe. Then smirking. “Most of the time.”

“And last but not least—” She tosses his hand and meets Franky’s eyes. “My boy! Holy heckin’ chicken poo! I’ve missed you.”

She pulls him in and…

Well, he doesn’t shove her away. Which surprises me until I remember she’s been in his life since infancy. She’s allowed to be eccentric and loud. She’s allowed to hug because she’s basically family to him. She’s known him longer than any of the rest of us combined.

“I think you got more handsome, Franklin.” She allows him to step back, but cups his cheeks and earns a goofy smile. “Grew a whole foot since we last broke bread together. I’m not pleased, little boy.”

“Pop quiz,” he beams. “What’s the fastest land animal ever?”

“Er… the bunny.”

“The largest?”

“The mouse.”

“And what’s the seventh digit in Pi?”

“Apple.”

His eyes dance with amusement, soft laughter rolling along his chest. “Wrong, wrong, wrong. You were supposed to study, Aunty Fox.”

“I did study! You’re just too smart for me.”

“Hang on.” I frown, earning twin stares from the pair.

“ She’s allowed to claim the largest animal on Earth is a mouse, but I mess up a chess board one time, and I become the antichrist?

” I set my hands on my hips. “I smell favoritism, and I already have to tolerate so much with your clear preference for Chris.”

“You prefer Chris?” Fox wrinkles her nose, smiling. “Why am I not surprised?”

“We should go.” Alana kills that line of discussion and draws a deep breath as she glances out at the crowd waiting in the mid-morning sun. She nervously nibbles on her bottom lip, then takes Franky’s hand in hers. “We’ve made them wait a pretty long time.”

“We don’t like ‘em anyway,” Raquel teases. “Bunch of gossips.”

“Come on.” I take Alana’s free hand and lead her toward the casket already set in place. The flowers Caroline organized. The music Oliver oversaw. The funeral director Raquel connected us with.

For the girl they declared their enemy ten years ago, they step forward and circle the wagons. Because we protect those we love.