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  “I see that.” I look toward the sink and note the goo dripping from the apple red wall onto the the counter top. It's even splattered across on the white cabinets in the shape of a rainbow. “It's a good thing your dad isn't here to see this. Let's get you cleaned up.”

  “I'm not a baby,” he mutters, doing more damage than good as he tries to remove the pancake batter from his shirt and succeeds in smearing it more. I grab the towels away, wet a washcloth, and wipe his scowling face. Our eyes meet as I smile at him and his mouth cracks into one as well.

  “And yet you can't even wash yourself up,” his brother tells him.

  We get the mess cleaned up, start a new batch of batter—this time with chocolate chips in it—and spend the evening eating pancakes, playing video games, and pretending we can have this perfection as reality.

  MY PARENTS ARE IN THE living room watching television; my dad in his favorite recliner and my mom on the couch. The walls of the room are paprika with accents of golds and creams in the furniture and curtains. My mom prefers bold colors reminiscent of autumn and her decorating sense leans toward a country theme. Just looking at their familiar faces makes me long for a simpler time. I plop down beside my mom. She immediately pulls me closer and strokes my hair. How she always knows what I need is baffling.

  When I was a kid, I used to sit in the mechanic shop with my dad and watch him work all day, not so much interested in what he was doing, but fascinated by the way he focused on his work to the point that he would forget I was even with him. I also just wanted to spend time with him; not that he ever said much. But every so often he'd look up from the car and glance my way with a small smile and I'd get this warm feeling in my stomach, a peacefulness or rightness. I miss those days.

  And my mom; we used to bake chocolate chip cookies on a weekly basis. It was our thing. I always felt so at ease then; as if those moments were all that mattered and everything else in my life became insignificant for a period of time. It was one of the reasons I started baking cookies with Grayson and Aidan all the time; I wanted to bring that sense of contentment and acceptance to them, to give them something they could hold on to and look forward to; even something as small as baking cookies on a routine basis. It was a happy time for me and I wanted to share that with them. They didn't have enough moments like that growing up.

  “Rough few weeks?” she asks.

  'Grease' is on the TV and I stare at the black-garbed and curly-haired Sandy as I nod. “You could say that.” Her fingers in my hair are making me drowsy. I rest the side of my head against her shoulder and close my eyes. I just want to pretend everything is okay for a moment.

  “Your father and I almost broke up once.”

  “She doesn't want to hear this,” my dad grumbles across the room.

  “Hush.” She leans back to look at me. “Do you want to hear about this?”

  “Is it going to gross me out?”

  My dad snorts and kicks the footrest down. He gets up and stretches, his back popping. “Are you sure you want to find out?” He passes by, messing up my hair on his way from the room.

  Frowning, my mom says, “No. It is not going to gross you out. Do you want to hear about it or not?”

  I shrug. “Okay. But if I start to get grossed out, I'm leaving.”

  She rolls her eyes, clasping her hands together in her lap. “It was two weeks after our wedding. Your father was offered a job up north. It paid better and he would have a set schedule; not like the company he worked for at the time. He was gone most of the day working and I hated it. He was on-call all the time. I felt like we never saw each other.

  “But if we moved, we would be away from our families. I wanted to start a family of our own and I wanted to be near our parents when that happened. I told him the money wasn't worth it. He thought it was. We didn't speak for weeks. I stayed with my parents for a month. We'd just gotten married and I was worried we were going to soon be divorced.”

  “So you stayed?”

  She smiles softly, tucking hair behind my ear. “No. We moved. We were there six months and came back. He hated the management. The people weren't that nice. He realized the money wasn't worth it. But if he hadn't gone and seen what it would be like, he would have always wondered. Sometimes in life, you do things you don't want to. Sometimes you sacrifice, and sometimes you compromise. Sometimes you let go and sometimes you fight. It's all about deciding what's worth losing and what's worth keeping. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

  A lump forms in my throat. “I think so.”

  “I remember how sad you were when Grayson left. That sadness never really went away; instead it became a part of you. Was it worth it, letting him go? And is he worth feeling sadness over? Is he worth fighting for? And if he is, then you need to tell him how you feel. If you don't, you'll never know how he feels.” She pauses. “You're more alive now than you have been in years and it's because of him. Do you feel it?”

  I silently nod. I do and it is wonderful, but how can it last?

  She cups the side of my face, her brown eyes alight with tenderness and empathy. “He called me about once a month from the time he left until he came back. I think he called because he didn't feel like he could talk to his own mother about things, but I think mostly he talked to me because I was an extension of you; I was a way for him to feel closer to you and know that you were okay. He asked me not to tell you. I wanted to, but I also didn't know if it would cause you more pain or help alleviate it, so I kept my silence.”

  “What did...” I clear my throat around the dryness of it. “What did he say when he called?”

  “He asked how you were doing. He told me about California.”

  “You gave him my cell phone number.”

  My mom blinks. “I did. Did he call you?”

  “No. Ben did. I knew he must have gotten my number from Grayson, but I didn't know why or how Grayson got it. He told me he asked you for it.”

  “I think he always planned on calling you. I know he wanted to. Maybe he was worried you wouldn't want to hear from him.”

  “I would've liked to have, no matter the circumstances of our goodbye. He was my best friend before we started dating. And then...nothing. He was just gone. It felt like a huge part of me was missing,” I say softly.

  “I know, Lily.” She fidgets with her pale pink top. “I, um, may have purposely invited him to the cook-out without telling you. And asked him to help you with the lawn that one day. And...other things.”

  I give her a look. “Yes. My slow deduction skills did manage to process that.”

  “I was hoping his girlfriend wouldn't be around, or that maybe they would break up,” she continues, a red hue creeping up her neck and into her face. “And I was hoping you two would talk and maybe work things out.”

  “Basically she was playing at matchmaker, and poorly,” my dad says, sinking back into his chair with a bowl of low-salt potato chips.

  She scowls at her husband. “You want them together too. You know they should be. You told me so.”

  My dad glances at me, looking embarrassed. “Well,” he huffs. “I can at least stay out of it. What's going to be will be. No use trying to change the way things go. They'll figure it all out in time. You're both good kids. You know what you want; you just have to get things sorted out.” He pauses with a chip to his lips. “And just so you know, it doesn't ever get any easier. Also, if you could hurry things up, I'd appreciate it. I'm not getting any younger.” With a wink, he pops the chip into his mouth and crunches away.

  The mere proximity of my parents and their good-humored badgering has made me feel better. An impulse to bake cookies takes over and before I can mouth the request, my mom is pulling me into the kitchen to do exactly that.

  SCOTT AND CINDY DECIDED ON doing an informal dinner at The Quiet Beggar; a supper club a mile outside of Fennimore. We are in the area designated to banquets and other events that involve food. There is a small bar along one of the wood-paneled walls and ten
or so tables set up. The smells of herbs and spices fill the room, announcing our meal is being prepared in the kitchen nearby. The lighting is low, giving the room a fuzzy, out of focus look.

  There are about twenty or so people in the room; standing in groups and talking. Scott and Cindy are standing with Grayson and his parents. The engaged couple looks so happy, they glow with it. Grayson is standing slightly apart from his mom and dad, as though not completely comfortable in their presence. I want to go to him, but remain where I am across the room.

  The wedding party is present, but as there are only three bridesmaids and groomsmen, all the other guests are friends and family. It is technically the rehearsal dinner, only a month before the wedding instead of the night before. I have an appointment tomorrow to pick out my bridesmaid's dress and I am not especially looking forward to it. Luckily it will not be a huge ordeal as the wedding is going to be small and the dress code more casual.

  Instead of going solo, I dragged Garrett along with me. I asked Mia to come, but she said she had a date, becoming suspiciously tight-lipped about who her date was. Which makes me think maybe her date is Ben—maybe. It isn't any of my business; I just hope they know what they are doing. Not that I have any room to talk—I don't even know what I'm doing.

  “He keeps glaring at me like he is going to kill me in my sleep,” Garrett murmurs close to my ear, handing me a glass of wine.

  “I'm sure he's thinking about it,” I agree.

  “Not really making me feel better.”

  I shrug and sip the local Spurgeon Vineyard's cranberry wine, the sweet and tart mixture a perfect balance on my tongue. “I don't know why he would be upset. He's with Megan. And you and I are just friends.”

  “And I'm engaged,” he adds, digging his cell phone out of his pocket and checking the screen for the tenth time in five minutes.

  “Did she call or text yet?”

  “No.” He scowls and puts the phone away.

  “I'm sure she'll be here soon.”

  “Sorry I have to bail on you early.”

  “It's okay. Not having to show up alone helped.”

  “I know, but I wanted to be here for moral support. I bet as soon as I leave, he'll be bugging you.”

  I shoot him an annoyed look. “We've been getting along.”

  “Yes, and you're a million times more confused now than you were before. Sure, now everything is great, but what about when his girlfriend comes back? What about after the wedding? And California? His career? Whatever is going on with you two can't last and you know it, not unless some changes are made.”

  His words are sharp and I look away from him as pain stabs me in the chest. I do know. “There's nothing going on. We've just hung out a few times. Maybe he wants us to be friends.”

  “And maybe he wants too much.”

  I don't know what to think about everything. Maybe it is as simple as Grayson missing me as much as I miss him and he doesn't know how to deal with our close proximity. Part of me wants to run to him and the other part of me wants to run away. But I don't say any of this to Garrett.

  A chiming sounds from his pocket and he quickly gets his cell phone out, scanning it. “She'll be here in five minutes.”

  “See? Nothing to worry about. You'll make it.”

  “I can't believe I agreed to this.” A fine sheen of sweat has broken out across Garrett's face along with a gray hue.

  “You'll be fine,” I tell him, patting his shoulder. “Just remember to breathe and stuff.”

  “I think I'd feel better if I stopped.”

  An arm slips around my waist, taking me by surprise, and I look over to see Aidan grinning at me. He's got on a black buttoned-down shirt and black jeans with his hair all spiky. “Hiya, Lily.”

  “Hey, Aidan. Get your hands off of me.”

  Still smiling, he releases me. “Just practicing my moves. Hi, Garrett.”

  He nods, swallowing thickly.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Wonderful.” He begins to fidget, running a hand through his hair, pausing, then moving on to tapping his foot. “I think I'll wait outside,” he finally announces, catching the looks from me and Aidan.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  He frowns, but it almost looks like he wants to cry. I hold in laughter, knowing to him the situation really isn't funny. “Yeah. I guess. Wish me luck.”

  When Garrett starts to walk away, I grab his arm and tug him back. Wrapping my arms around him, I hold him close as I say, “You will be fine. They will approve. They will get along. You and Emily will have a wonderful time. And tomorrow you'll wonder why you were so worried about it tonight.”

  I glance up as I pull away, meeting Grayson's dark look. I quickly turn back to Garrett. He stares at me, briefly resting his hand on my forehead. Why, I don't know. “Thank you. You made me feel about a miniscule amount better about the whole thing.”

  Laughing, I slap his hand away from my head and say, “Just trying to help.”

  “I know. You didn't, but I appreciate the effort. I think only unconsciousness could make me feel better right about now. I'll talk to you soon. Be tough, okay?”

  “You too.”

  He grimaces, waving as he leaves.

  “What's wrong with him?” Aidan asks.

  “He and Emily just got engaged and they're having dinner with their parents tonight to break the news to them. This will be the first time their parents meet.”

  “Ah.” He winces. “Sucks to be him.”

  “Maybe. Where's your date?”

  He blushes. “Me and Alicia broke up.”

  “Oh? How do you feel about that?”

  “Lily,” he groans. “Stop talking to me like you're my psychiatrist.”

  I blink. “Okay. Sorry. When is your birthday again? And how old are you going to be? Thirty?”

  He rolls his eyes. “In two months, and I'll be fourteen. You know that. Anyway, about Alicia...I don't mind, actually. I mean, I didn't date her long and we didn't really talk or anything. She's dating Bentley now. It's cool, though, 'cause they actually have discussions and stuff. The band is getting along a lot better now too.”

  “Good. Hey, where's my tee shirt?”

  He brightens. “Oh, yeah. I got it at the house. Stop by later and I'll give you one, okay?”

  “I'll try to remember.”

  “Are you coming to our gig? It's coming up.”

  I bump my arm against his, grinning. “You know I'll be there.”

  He lifts his hand and I high-five it. “Sweet! I gotta go work the crowd so we have an audience of more than five.”

  “How are you going to be able to make sure they show?”

  “Bribery. Free tee shirts to the first twenty people that show up.”

  I give him a look of approval. “Good marketing strategy.”

  “Thanks. It was Megan's idea.”

  My good mood deteriorates, along with my smile.

  Aidan winces, attuned to my emotions in a completely uncharacteristic way for someone so young to be. He should be selfishly oblivious like normal teens. “Sorry. But you really shouldn't let her bother you. She's just filling a hole in his heart that belongs to you.”

  I stare at him.

  An embarrassed look crosses over his features. “Don't tell anyone I talked like that, okay? It would be bad for my reputation.”

  “Yeah. Sure,” I answer bemusedly.

  “I gotta go. My dad is waving me over.”

  I nod, watching as Aidan joins his family. The atmosphere lightens considerably with his presence. Postures straighten and smiles grace lips. Tracie laughs at something he says and Jeremy is absorbed by whatever Aidan is communicating to them. Grayson watches his brother with an amused look on his face.

  Aidan is a special kid; one so unlike Grayson in some ways and so similar to him in others. That charismatic edge that draws people to Grayson with his musical talent seems to have gifted his younger brother as well, but with his words inste
ad of music. Certain people have personalities that others instinctively want to be around; the Lee brothers being two of them. I don't think either of them realize the impact they have on others.

  I make my way to my brother and my soon to be sister-in-law. Scott slings an arm around me. I am surprised by his unnatural show of affection until I smell the strangely sweet scent of beer on his breath. He is clearly in a celebratory mood, made possible by booze.

  “Hey, sis. How are you holding up?”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Hi, Lily,” Cindy greets, her brown eyes sparkling with happiness. She should be happy. She is about to marry the man she loves as well as carrying his baby. I also know she loves her job at the most notable daycare in town. Life is rainbows and sunshine as far as Cindy is concerned.

  “Hey.” I give her a brief hug, made awkward by Scott's heavy arm still across my shoulders.

  Scott and I are not that close; we have the normal antagonistic relationship of rivaling siblings—only we never grew out of that stage like most kids do. I love my brother and I know he loves me; I know that if I need him, he will be there for me—complete with badgering and sarcastic comments—but he'll be there. It's just one of those things.

  “Are you sure you're wonderful?”

  “I'm sure,” I answer. I never divulge too much information to him because of the role he plays as the older brother forever annoyed with the younger sister. I am hoping my answer will be the end of his attempt at brotherly concern. Drinking as he is, I should know better.

  “No, really. Tell me how you're doing with...that.” He gestures toward the Lee family.

  I note Grayson watching us and turn to my brother, shrugging his arm off so I can stand straight. “Everything is fine, Scott.” I notice the hint of tightness to my voice, but my brother appears oblivious. I don't want my brother involved in any way with whatever is or isn't happening between Grayson and me.

  “I don't believe you.”

  “Scott,” Cindy says softly, touching his cheek.

  He blinks at his bride-to-be, a dopey look overtaking his features. I try really hard not to roll my eyes, but am pretty sure I fail, especially when I hear a snicker from a few feet away. I look up just as Grayson looks away, his lips turned up.