Page 107 of Things I Read About

“Hm.”

I can’t think of anything to add, happy with the task I’ve given him. He’ll see how loving they are, how fiercely loyal and supportive. See that I can't just turn everything upside on them for a dream I'm not even sure I want. I put my left ear bud back in and he reinserts his right one.

The last half hour of our trip drags on until, finally, we reach the gate of my old neighborhood. The thing is old and slow and worn. The whole neighborhood kind of matches the squeaky gate. The colossal houses are well kept but out of date. The lawns are perfectly manicured but the trees are huge, and the hedges tend to be a little overgrown.

I squirm in my seat, realizing how very old money this suburban street seems.

We’re actually not old money, not in an Emerson Clark kind of way. Grandpa started the greeting card company from his garage a few miles from here. Dad expanded it on phone calls he made while pacing through the living room we’re about to see.

Still, the country club vibes are strong. I wince as I put my headphones in their case and reach down to my purse. Just two more left turns.

“There’s just one problem,” Nate says suddenly.

“What?” I look at him and he swallows. Gulps, actually. Is he nervous? Nervous about my family? The threat? “Nate?”

“The problem with all that that you said, is that you have a blind spot.”

“Blind spot.”

“Yeah.” He pulls into the driveway I know so well, with bright morning glory flowers lining either side.

Sam will likely pop out the front door in ten seconds, but I am focused on the man to my left.

He puts the car in park and looks at me. “You can catch how everyone secretly responds to everyone else. How they really are when they think no one’s looking. But you can’t see how someone secretly reacts toyou.” He looks past me, to the front porch. I hear a commotion, but I can’t move. “If somebody melts when they look at you from across the room, while you’re reading or talking or playing that damn piano, you can’t see it.”

He shrugs slightly as he turns away to open the car door.

“Sallyyy!” My door flies open before I can respond to Nate. Samantha even unbuckles my belt and hauls me out of the car.

A gaggle of Cantons waits behind her. We dissolve into hugs and laughs and sniffs and teasing, all the way back into the house.

I look for Nate, who follows behind with Dean, both of them looking all around us, shoulders up, brows furrowed.

Freaky.

Inside, my brothers through marriage are almost as rowdy as we girls are, stumbling in from the porch. There’s football on. Of course. There is music on too, softly. Dad’s playlist of oldies music. I hear food sizzling and hear cans being opened, ice clinking, and just general happy sounds coming from everywhere.

“Sally! Our favorite little house-sitter,” Shep yells as Sam drags me into the living room for another round of hugs.

“Gang’s all here,” Susan calls on her way to the kitchen, way too cheery.

Emerson makes a noise.

Shep puts up a hand to shield his mouth and says, “Adam is noticeablynothere but we’re not allowed to talk about it.”

Susan’s voice cuts through the room. “I heard that, Shep.”

“I’m not sayin’ anything except to say it’s weird that we’re not sayin’ anything!”

“Shep.” Sadie glares at him and he shuts his mouth.

I search to see what Nate’s reaction to us is, but he, Dean, Fergus, and Dad are talking at the edge of the room. I suck in a breath at how serious they seem.

Sam and Sadie catch my reaction and then follow my line of sight. Sadie whispers something to Shep, who mutes the TV. The sudden calm causes Dad to pause.

“Girls, quit looking at us like that. Everything is under control; I just wanted an update before Dean and Nate take the night off.”

“Quite right,” Fergus adds. “We’re getting very close. Not much longer and you can all go back to normal.”