Page 4 of Teasing

She didn’t cower at all when I demanded her camera, and while that probably shouldn’t have been hot, it was.

“Yes, she’s our neighbor. And yes.” I look around the table at the three of them. “It is hot outside. But... that doesn’t change the fact you wandered off and talked to a stranger. You didn’t know her before you introduced yourself. You left our yard. And I didn’t know where you were.” I put my hand up when she opens her mouth to argue again. Something my daughter is very good at. This kid is going to grow up to be a lawyer with how much she likes to argue a point. “She may not feel like a stranger because she lives next door, but she is still very much a stranger. We don’t know anything about her.”

“Well...”Ryker grins as he signs, and I already know this isn’t going to be good. “We should fix that, shouldn’t we?”

“Housewarming party?”Jamie asks.

“No,”I answer at the same time Rosie squeals,“Party?”

Jamie shovels a forkful of salad into his mouth and doesn’t bother chewing.“She can’t live in that big house alone. Let’s have the hot neighbor over for dinner and hope there’s two of them.”

“Two?”I question, even though I know I shouldn’t.

“Just because you live like a monk doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”Jamie grins, and Rosie tilts her head.

I don’t live like a fucking monk.

Asshole.

“What’s a monk?”she asks, and I fist my hands at my sides because I can’t hit my best friend in front of my kid. As far as Rosie is concerned, we don’t hit. We use our words.

But you can bet I’m gonna hit Uncle Jamie hard at the first practice of the season in a few weeks.

Deep breath in . . . Slow breath out . . . I’ve got this.

“It’s kinda like a priest, sweets.”I try putting it in words she’ll understand, so I don’t tell her that her uncle is busting my balls about getting laid.

I warned them both before I agreed to the housing arrangement. No strange women in this house. No strange women introduced to my daughter. Ever. Nonnegotiable. They’re my top rules, right under no peanuts, no cats, and keep all other food my daughter is allergic to in cabinets she can’t reach.

Peanuts are the worst of Rosie’s allergies. Do not even touch my daughter if you’ve been near peanuts. The other things cause discomfort. Swelling. Splotching. Itching. But peanuts close off her airways. We live our lives with EpiPens stashed everywhere. We have no choice.

I’ve never shied away from talking to Rosie about her allergies, and even at her young age, she’s aware of them and what she needs to avoid. But she’s still only five, and mistakes happen.

Her mother did that once, and we almost lost our girl because of it.

That was two years ago, and that piece of shit decided a few months later that being a mother wasn’t for her anyway. Her loss, not Rosie’s.

My daughter barely remembers her.

“Oh.”Her little eyes crinkle for a minute, and she looks more like my baby than my rapidly aging five-year-old. I’m convinced I’m going to wake up and be looking at a teenager one of these days. She grabs Ryker’s arm so he looks at her, something only Rosie does because Ryker doesn’t care for people touching him if he doesn’t see them coming, and signs,“Can I go to Emmie’s house with you to invite her to dinner?”

Ryker looks between Rosie and me. He knows I want him to say no, but the shithead caves anyway. “Sure.” He shoves back his chair, picks up his plate and hers, then turns my way and shrugs.“So what time’s dinner?”

When exactly did I lose this fight?

EMMIE

More life. More love. More laughter.

I want more.

—Emmie’s Secret Thoughts

My phone rings as the door of Sugar Hill Assisted Living, the facility my father has lived in for the last six years, closes behind me. It’s as if my brother knew instinctively that I needed to hear his voice today. That I needed to borrow some strength. “Hey. Give me a sec. I’m getting in my car.”

“Lock your doors,” Camden orders, and I’m grateful he can’t see the roll of my eyes or the shake of my head.

I sigh as I slide behind the wheel, but I do lock the door like he told me to. “I’m in Sugar Hill, Camden. It’s not like I’m in Center City Philly or something. We have one cop and two deputies. No one is coming to carjack Agatha.”

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