Bennett’s brows rise. “Newcomers don’t get to make the rules. Besides, I’m not going out tonight.”

Wait. Evie didn’t tell me I’m expected to do what they say, when they say, all summer. No thanks.

“Why aren’t you joining us?” Evie asks, studying Bennett with an eagle eye. Not quite like he’s prey, more like she’s trying to discern his reasoning, and if she keeps eye contact long enough, he’ll cave because eventually, everyone caves to Evie. She’s too persuasive and patient.

“It’s not my scene anymore,” Bennett says casually.

Nice try, Bennett. Evie will not let you stay home. If she wants him there, Bennett will be there.

“He wants to get to bed early,” Emerson teases. “He’s an old man who needs his rest.”

Bennett’s lips tilt up the barest amount. “It’s true. I do. Sorry, Evs. Maybe next time.”

Evie folds her arms across her chest, her head cocked to the side, ready to argue. “Bennett.”

I know this stance. It’s the same one she uses on me to get whatever she wants. Like the time she met a guy online and wanted to meet up with him in a not-so-great part of town. I told her a million times to recommend a different club; instead I ended up finding a friend from my communications class to tag along and we doubled up for a date that lasted a whole twenty minutes before Evie realized the guy was a dud.

I hold back my smile, waiting to see how Evie’s family deals with her when she’s like this. I admit defeat and save myself the headache by caving in the second she gets her game face on. But do they? Or do they hold their own?

“Evelyn,” Bennett says right back in that same frustrated tone.

Cam jumps in. “Evie, leave him alone.”

She whips her gaze to Camden. “No. If we do, he’ll be like last summer. We need him to get out and get back into our usual activities.”

“He was grieving,” Emerson says, exasperated. “Give him some grace.”

“We did.” Evie huffs. “But we can’t let him do that this year.”

“Since when did you become an expert on healing after the death of a spouse?” Henry asks. “Who are you to say he has a time limit on when he has to go out?”

My head whips from person to person as they continue talking over each other about Bennett. I remember when Bennett’s wife died three years ago. Evie was distraught. I offered to attend the funeral with her, but she declined, saying she just wanted to be with family. It stung when she said those words to me. I’m closer to her than anyone in my family, but she has a support system with her brother and cousins, whereas I do not.

I’m also unsure of whose side I’m on in all of this. Evie loves Bennett. She loves everyone in her family. They text and meet up constantly. Her heart is in a good place, but his brothers probably know him a little better than Evie does, and if they say he needs more time before socializing, then she needs to respect that.

Curiously, Bennett doesn’t jump in and defend himself. His face goes blank. The longer they talk, the stiffer his body gets. It reminds me of the nights Steph and I holed up in one of our bedrooms while Mom and Dad fought.

“I’m on a man ban. I’ll stay here with Bennett so he’s not alone and you four can go out for your traditional drinks,” I offer.

Bennett doesn’t know me. He might hate the fact that I just inserted myself into his life more than his family did. But Evie wasn’t backing down and this stubborn trait seems to be a family gene inherited by all of them. I don’t mind spending a quiet evening with Bennett. Maybe he’ll give me a tour of the place. Evie marched me straight to the dock upon arrival.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bennett says, appalled. “Especially not someone younger than me.” He says “younger” like it’s the bubonic plague.

I stare at him, confused. How can this considerate man from a few moments ago be the same one who now is speaking like I’m unworthy of being in his space? “I didn’t say you did.” Why did you involve yourself? “I’m trying to provide a solution that keeps everyone happy.”

“I’m going to shower.” Bennett jumps out of the hot tub like someone admitted they peed in the water.

I place a hand on my churning stomach, hating that I said something. I don’t know Bennett or what’s best for him. Next time, I’m keeping my mouth shut or excusing myself from the argument.

I need to find a job tomorrow. There’s no point waiting until after Memorial Day like I planned. Being around this dynamic all summer might not have been the best idea after all.

The silence is unbearable as Bennett snags a towel off a nearby chair.

I’m done being in this weird situation where I have no clue where I fit in. “I think I’ll shower now, too. Evie, can you show me where I’m sleeping?” With how I’m feeling, the mansion (not a cabin, like I thought) isn’t big enough to get me as far from Bennett as possible. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t that big of a deal, but it’s the memories of my childhood. The feelings that no matter what I said or did, I was a nuisance without a need for consideration. I was easily dismissed and forgotten.

“Yeah, come on,” Evie says, wading across the hot tub to the steps. “Let’s towel off, then get our bags from the car. Grandma will have a cow if we get water all over the floors.”

I want to joke, “oh, you don’t have a person here for that?” but I can’t find the energy. Following Evie, I stay quiet as we get our luggage, climb up a flight of marble stairs, walk down the world’s longest hallway filled with family photos, until finally Evie stops at a white door.