“Rusty and I are working on a proposal for Jane & Co. to revitalize the town, so yeah, we’ll do some brainstorming while we’re here. But he works here, so this is a pretty efficient use of my time.”
More cousins are coming over from their last activity, and they’re getting restless to compete. “What’s she playing at?”
“Who?” Ash makes a show of blinking her big eyes innocently.
“Freaking Jane code,” I mutter.
Ash winks. “You know us better than anyone, Sonny.”
“I used to think so.”
“You still do. She’s not the same girl you knew, but she has the same heart. You’ll see.”
Rusty tugs on Ash, and she spins around so they can help the next group.
And I follow my family.
I catch up to them during archery. Somehow, in spite of being “the help,” my family has roped PJ into joining in with us. My parents are here, too, and they’re surrounding her along with the rest of them.
My parents have always been crazy about PJ. Unfortunately, they have the subtlety of a sledgehammer. The pressure to join in just keeps mounting, no matter how many times I slash my hand across the throat or beg them to give her a break.
“I’m sure PJ has more important things to do, seeing as she’s running this whole event,” I say.
Her eyebrows tug down when I say this. Why are her eyebrows tugging down? Does she want to join in or run? GAH!
“No, it’s okay,” she says. “I’ll check in with everyone at lunch.”
“There is no set lunch time, remember?” I tell her. I’m literally handing this girl out after out!
She pulls her shoulders back, standing up straighter and smiling bigger. “No problem. I’ll make the rounds after this.”
Mom squeezes PJ’s shoulder. “Hon, you don’t have to stay if you have other things you need to do. You’ve already gone above and beyond.”
“It’s okay.” PJ’s Cheshire grin slips into something faint but real. “I don’t mind.”
Mom holds her gaze and shoulder for a beat longer. “Thank you for doing all of this for us. It’s only been a day, and it’s already been wonderful. I still can’t believe you found those old candies.”
Candies?
PJ drops her face with a nod. “My pleasure, Mrs. Luciano.”
“It’s Lisa, hon.” Mom brings her other hand up so they’re both resting on Parker’s shoulders. The PJ I used to know would shake the affection off. She’d find some excuse to break away, because big emotions scare the living daylights out of her. She both loved and hated my parents being around, because they’re concerned and affectionate and give their love freely, and PJ’s parents didn’t give it at all.
PJ won’t meet Mom’s eye, but she keeps nodding. I’d bet dollars to donuts that she’s trying not to cry. And when Mom pulls her into a hug, I suspect Mom knows exactly what she’s doing.
I wonder if she knows what she’s doing to me.
“Are you crying?” Gabe says, punching my shoulder.
PJ pulls out of Mom’s embrace, no doubt spooked by my dumb brother, even if he was talking to me. She gives Mom a tight smile and then fixes back on that mask. That shiny, happy mask that’s beginning to make me feel like a storm cloud on a sunny day.
What is she doing? And why?
I look at Gabe. “Just thinking about how great that trophy is gonna look alongside all my other trophies,” I say, wiping a fake tear from my eyes. “It’s beautiful, man.”
“I hate you.”
“In the immortal words of Taylor Swift—”