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CALEB

“Cassidy, stop. You can’t just barge in here and—”

“Who says?” She scooped Bentley’s socks and underwear from one of the dresser drawers and dumped them into his little suitcase. “Bentley, get your shoes.”

“I don’t want to go,” he said.

“Then you shouldn’t have cried to your uncle how I never call you.”

“But you don’t.”

Caleb stepped between Cassidy and her son, placing his hand on Bentley’s head. “Hey, buddy, go see if Grandpa needs help with dinner. It’s his turn to cook tonight, and you know how he likes to burn things.”

He didn’t have to tell the boy twice. Bentley shot out of his room, dashed down the stairs and out of the house.

“Bentley,” Cassidy called after him. “Get back here. Pack your stuff.” She gave Caleb a steely gaze. “Way to undermine me, Uncle Caleb.”

“Cassidy, I told you if I took him, it was for the rest of the school year. And you agreed.”

“ If he wants to talk to me, he can talk to me at my house.” She tossed Bentley’s sneakers from the closet to the center of the room.

Caleb returned them to the closet. “Will you stop throwing stuff? What’s going on? All I said in my text was he misses you and to please call him.”

“I’m busy, okay?” She left the room and came back with Bentley’s toothbrush. “We’re not staying for dinner. I can’t believe Dad is still burning good food hoping Mom will let him get out of his night to cook. Why doesn’t he just grill out?”

“It’s his version of blackened.” That actually got a laugh from Cassidy. “Mom made your favorite, chicken and noodles, the other night. There’s leftovers.”

“I don’t eat that southern comfort food anymore.” Cassidy wadded Bentley’s T-shirts into the suitcase. “Too many carbs.”

While Cassidy had always been a bit of a loose cannon, her behavior today reminded him of the summer she fought their parents at every turn. When she seemed to be at war with the whole world.

“What’s happened? Something with Pluto? Did you two—”

“His name is Arturo, you jackwagon, and yes, we broke up. There, you happy?” Cassidy shot down the stairs and through the kitchen, the back door slamming behind her.

Caleb chased her out to the patio, where she paced, weeping and swearing like a ticked-off football coach. He flipped on the string lights, then retrieved a long lighter from his outdoor storage container.

“This always happens to me, you know? I find a good guy and then BAM! He takes off with another woman.”

As he listened, Caleb stacked wood in the brick fireplace, glancing at his phone to see that Emery had texted.

Emery:

Beach Boys concert the 16th. Wanna go?

C aleb:

I’m in.

“We were engaged,” Cassidy said, scowling as Caleb tucked his phone back in his pocket. “I was planning a wedding.”

With a couple of twigs for kindling, the dried logs caught quickly. Caleb set the lighter aside and perched on the table.

“I’m never good enough. Not for anyone—not for Mom or Dad. You. Perfect Caleb.”

“Woah, where’d that come from? No one ever said I was perfect, Cassidy.”

“The good son who did as he was told. And now the perfect uncle, knight in shining armor. Taking in his crazy sister’s kid cause she’s a relationship disaster.”

“No one is saying that, Cass.”

“They’re all thinking it.”

“Are you sure it’s over with Arturo?”

“Yes. Over. Finito. How many times does the love of my life have to walk out for me to learn my lesson? Once, twice? Three times? Four? No, no, I’m done. From now on, it’s Bent and me. Deuce.”

“Fine, but where are you going to live?”

“I don’t know, but not in Sea Blue Beach.

Under Mom and Dad’s condemning eye. Or yours.

And all of their friends. My former friends.

Forget it. I can hear all the whispers. ‘There goes Cassidy Ransom, Hayden and Billie’s messed-up daughter.

She had so much potential.’” She made her way over to the fire, stretching her hands to the warmth.

“You want the truth? Here it is: I’m a nobody.

No. Body. Not worth the time and effort. ”

“How do you make that out?” Caleb took his sister by the shoulders and turned her to him.

“Cassidy Ransom, you’re a somebody. Listen to me!

You are your father’s daughter. Hayden Ransom has given you a name— his name —and maybe people t oday don’t think that means anything, but it does.

You are not alone. You are your father’s daughter . Start acting like it.”

“I’m not anyone’s anything.” She shook her head and pulled away. “I have a job in Mobile. I’ll find a place to live there.”

Caleb wanted another stab at convincing her of the power of being Hayden Ransom’s daughter. Of having a family that loved her. But he’d pressed enough

“Do you need any money?”

“No, and even if I did, I’d not ask you.

” She looked toward their parent’s place, then started inside Caleb’s.

“I’m leaving. Bentley can stay here. I’ll send you my new address and try to call him more.

” She stopped on the steps to look back at Caleb.

“By the way, little brother, what’s with all the boxes? Unpack, you moron.”

“I just haven’t gotten around to it,” he said. “Stay overnight, please. Talk to me.”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “There are some things I can’t tell even you.”

CALEB

Then . . .

In one hour, one very long hour, he was picking Emery up for dinner. With his parents. He’d never brought a girl home for dinner before.

He went to the eighth-grade dance with Sally Peterson, but he met her at the school, and her dad sat in the bleachers the whole time. Caleb barely touched her during their one slow dance.

Inviting Emery had really been Dad’s idea. “Might cheer up your mother , ” he’d said.

C assidy had been home most of this week with a brutal attitude, which made Mom cry a lot. Then she started disappearing again, staying out late, ignoring everyone when she came around for food.

Mom insisted Caleb invite Emery and her parents for dinner. He took a risk and invited them for Friday night. No way Cassidy would be home before dawn.

Her parents declined since her mom had a cold. But Emery was coming.

He worked an extra shift at the Starlight, then ran by Biggs for a bouquet of flowers. At home, he showered, gelled his hair, and snuck a splash of Dad’s Hugo Boss. In the kitchen, he asked Mom what he could do to help with dinner.

“You can set the table.” Still in her work clothes and covered with a big apron, signature slippers on her feet, Mom checked the lasagna.

The whole house smelled of meat, cheese, and sauce.

“Was Cassidy with you at the rink?” she said.

“I called her and left messages, but she never called back. What’s the point of paying for cell service if she’s not going to use it. ”

Oh, she used it. Just not to talk to Mom. “She wasn’t at the rink.” He hoped Mom would leave it at that because he knew where Cassidy had been all afternoon: at the beach, wearing a bikini that made him blush, while some muscled airman from Eglin wrapped his tattooed arm around her naked waist.

“Are you excited?” Mom said. “About this girl? What’s her name?”

“Emery. She’s just a friend.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

“She’s cool. The guys like her.”

“The guys? Like Shift, Jumbo, Hollingsworth?” Mom said, properly impressed.

“Well, personally I like how her father called your dad. He’s looking out for her.

” She stepped to the back porch f acing their neighbor on the right.

“Caleb, I’m going to see if Cassidy is with Allison. Her phone must’ve died.”

Allison was Cassidy’s best friend and co-conspirator. Mom was knocking on the wrong door there.

Ten minutes later, she arrived home from Denial Town.

“Alli said she’s at the Starlight.” Mom looked pleased with that answer.

“You must’ve missed her.” At the fridge, she collected the salad fixings.

“Apparently Riley Stebbins is in town visiting her grandparents, and she dragged Cass to the rink. Although . . .” Mom paused, talking to herself more than Caleb.

“Jennifer and I played cards last week, and she never mentioned Riley coming to town.”

“I’m off to pick up Emery, Mom.” It was a bit early, but another minute of Mom’s reasonings and he’d break, rat on his sister—who absolutely deserved it—but tonight was about Emery coming to dinner.

When he pulled up to the Sands, Mr. Quinn waited outside Cottage 7. “Come on in,” he said, offering his hand. “Want a Coke or Dr. Pepper? Em, Caleb’s here.”

She came out of her room in a pair of white shorts and a pink top, flowers in her braided hair. Her tawny complexion had even more freckles—which made her hazel eyes look super cool. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

“How do you like her hair?” Mrs. Quinn said. “We picked the flowers from Delilah’s garden.”

“Nice” was all he could manage, since his heart was banging against his chest. But she was so much more.

“Bye, ’rents.” Emery kissed her mother, who’d retreated to the small couch under the window, pulling a blanket over her legs. “Bye, Dad, and yes I have my phone, and yes I’ll be home by ten.”

“Please thank your parents for inviting us,” Mr. Quinn said, with a look over at his wife. “Hopefully we can make it another time.”

C aleb held the passenger door for Emery as she climbed in, filling him and the truck cab with her soft, clean scent. Every part of him was intensely aware of her. Could he just stare at her all night and not be a weirdo?

Dinner was just the four of them—Dad, Mom, Caleb, and Emery. Thank goodness Cassidy was a no-show. The knot in his gut eased away when Dad said grace and Mom offered Emery a glass of sweet tea.