Page 85 of Four Weekends and a Funeral

“That’s what I thought. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.” Adam snatches a carrot from the wood board and crunches. “Where’s Otis? I want to introduce him to Alison.”

I smile at his mention of me but continue to stand in the kitchen doorway like a vampire waiting to be invited in.

“Jesus, Adam. Were you raised in a barn? Use a plate.” His sister empties enough clean plates for five before shutting the dishwasher. Adam bumps her hip so he can unload the rest of the clean dishes for her, like they’ve done this millions of times before.

She wipes her hands on a lemon-patterned towel and crosses the checkered floor to wrap me in a hug. I take a step forward to meet her, feeling a bit of my anxiety release. “The famous Alison. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m June, Adam’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you.” I punctuate her affectionate hug with an awkward back pat. I want June to like me more than I care to admit, so obviously, I’m at my most socially inept.

“I don’t like turkey anymore,” a tiny voice shouts. A waist-height human barrels into the kitchen like a tornado. Arms full of ceramic plates, the Berg siblings dance around him without missing a beat.

“You eat turkey all the time,” his mom coaxes.

“Not anymore. It’s yucky.”

“Not this turkey. This is the good stuff. You like it.” Adam gives the seven-year-old no room to disagree.

“Who’s she?” Otis asks, pointing straight at my nose in that shameless way in which all elementary-school-aged children move through the world.

June lowers her son’s finger and shuffles him in the direction of the sink. “Is that how we meet new friends? Wash your hands for snack.”

“Hi, I’m Otis,” he says, stepping up to the stool in front of the faucet. He has the same round, nut-brown eyes as June and Adam, with darker brown hair and tan skin. His expression is so sweet and open like his mom’s.

“Hi, Otis. I’m Alison.”

He looks between his uncle and me. “Are you Uncle Adam’s girlfriend?”

I think my eyes pop out of my skull.

“What do you know about girlfriends?” Adam asks his nephew with a surprised cough. He’s putting glasses away in the cabinet behind me. I resist the urge to flip him around with each thud of heavy ceramic and analyze his expression.

“I know what girlfriends are. I have two girlfriends,” Otis says proudly.

“Otis, can you tell Dad that Adam and Alison are here?” June steers the subject away from girlfriends, real or imagined, and Otis hops off the stool and skips out of the kitchen.

June looks at me. “So are you two…”

His hand finds the small of my back. I lean into him, like an innate call and response.

“Of course we are.” His voice is so sure and uncomplicated. The sound of it lights me up from the inside. “But I didn’t want to reward his precociousness with a straight answer.”

June reaches over her head for a pair of hand-thrown ceramic mugs. She ladles something warm and spicy into the peacock-blue one and hands it to me. “He’s not half as bad as some of the kids in his class. Arabella caught me vaping in front of a Sky Zone and told me my insides were going to turn to Jiffy Pop.”

Adam takes the yellow mug from June with his right hand. His left hand is otherwise engaged drawing small, achingly slow circles on my lower back.

I blow into my steaming cup, and the appley scent wafts into my nose. “What did you do?” I ask, a smile in my voice. I like June. I like how loose and comfortable Adam is here.

I like Adam. Full stop.

June spoons a bit of the liquid into her mouth straight from the Crock-Pot. “I said, ‘Thank you for that fearless feedback. I’m trying to quit.’ And that her mommy puts wine in her Starbucks cup during playdates, so Arabella should place her eagle-eyed focus on what’s happening on the home front.”

I choke on my hot toddy.

June shakes a bit of cinnamon in the mixture before stopping to look at me. “I’m joking, I promise. I would never say that to a child. And Hallie doesn’t drink that much. I swear.”

Adam rolls his eyes, and I catch a glimpse of him as a little brother. “She knows you’re joking. And she’s not going to narc on you to Hallie.”

“Sorry. Adam hasn’t brought anyone home before. I’m all in my head.”

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