Page 34 of No Place Like Home

I couldn’t say I blamed her when I’d programmed her that way. When our parents would start fighting, I would give Rosie my phone and let her watch YouTube videos with the headphones on full blast. Anything was better than for her to be subjected to our parents’ arguing.

“How’s school?”

“Okay,” she answered, then put the tablet down and turned to look at me. “You ask me the same thing every time.”

“Because I always want to know, Rosie Posie.” I smiled at my sister, and my throat clogged.

Sometimes when I looked at her, I remembered her as a baby. Her in my arms…we would be locked in the bathroom with the shower on. I would sit on the floor, trying to cover the shouting outside, trying desperately to play games with her so she wouldn’t know how fucked up our family was. I smiled at my sister and reached for her hand. We didn’t look much alike, but she was my flesh and blood; she was all I had left.

When Paisley finished her bottle, she took a deep breath and then started to cry.

“Mom!”Rosie shouted, and I closed my eyes tightly. “Paisley is out of milk.”

It didn’t matter if I didn’t want to think about it. It always ended creeping through. My sister had a new family. I was happy for her; she deserved it.

“Honey, what did I tell you about yelling at me to get you things you can get?” Juliet said as she walked to the living room.

Rosie huffed, put the tablet down, and got up.

“Jess, when did you get here? Why didn’t you come to the back with us?” Juliet regarded me with a semi-hurt look.

Because y’all are nuts.

Of course, I didn’t say this out loud.

“I was just talking to Rosie. Come on, Pais. Come with Aunty Jess.” I grabbed the chubby baby and walked back toward the family room with Juliet.

“Jess, you came!” Freya shouted from where she was sitting on the counter with a drink in her hand.

“I had to, or else everyone would have just showed up at Jake’s old place,” I said dryly.

“Yourplace,” Jake said as he gave me a one-armed hug.

I patted him back, feeling awkward at the affection. Rosie might have called him dad, but not me.

Never me.

In high school, I’d fantasied about calling him “Daddy.” Not really, but come on. You can go from thinking a guy is hot to calling him “Daddy” in a nonsexual way.

Ew, gross.

“And Blake’s,” I added.

“Please. My brother is never there. If it wasn’t for you, I’m sure the place would be a dump.”

Jake had a point there. Blake wasn’t much of a cleaner or a cook, but he was funny, and when he was there, the place didn’t feel so lonely.

I watched Max walk in, bringing another beer for Freya. I stared at them and wondered why they didn’t have kids. Speaking of kids, Scottie ran in, giggling, and chasing him was his Uncle Prescott.

Okay, he was old—well, notold, old—but man, was he hot. And something about grown men playing with kids was designed to make women go a bit crazy and stupid. Despite his flaws, people loved him and kept keeping him as mayor. That, and he had done a lot to give the town more income.

“Jess.” Freya snapped at me.

“Don’t be snapping your fingers at me,” I teased her in a fake angry voice.

“I asked if there was something you wanted to share with us?” In true Freya fashion, she dismissed my tone.

I looked at her, and then at her husband, for help, but he always had a soft smile for anything Freya said. It was like the woman could do no wrong in his eyes.

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