Page 86 of Butter My Biscuit

I turn to Stephanie. “Call me, okay?”

“I will.” She goes back to her seat as Remi leaves the kitchen.

Within a few steps, I’m right behind her. “Why are you being rude?”

“I don’t like her,” she admits. “You know that saying that you should never trust a skinny cook?”

I chuckle. We round the corner and take the stairs two at a time.

“If I’m choosing, I pick Grace.”

“She’s not an option.”

“Okay.” Remi huffs. “Anyone butStephie.”

“She’s not so bad,” I explain. “If you gave her a chance, you’d probably be great friends.”

“No, thank you.”

My sister opens the door to my old bedroom, the one she took when she moved back in with my parents a few months ago. No matter our age, we always have a place to stay if something happens, so Remi temporarily took the opportunity.

Now that she’s back on her feet, she’s been waiting for the right chance to leave. Right now, the only two siblings that still live at home are Sterling and Vera; they’re eighteen and seventeen, respectively.

I look around my old bedroom, remembering how I had it decorated as a teen, and smile. It’s changed a lot. Now, there’s a fresh coat of paint, and the thumbtack holes, where all my posters hung, have been filled. However, the memories I made here are still alive. When I turn around, I glance at the tree house.

“You been in there lately?” I nod toward it.

“No. The only person who uses it is London. She’s been practicing guitar in there so she doesn’t bother anyone. Said there’s a lot of inspiration or something.”

I smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, she wrote this new song that’s so catchy. Seriously haven’t been able to get it out of my head for the past week. I told her that maybe you could help her promote it since you’re internet famous. Thirst trap—style. Abs and a pretty face can sell anything.” She pretends to throw up in her mouth. “The comments on those videos of you are gross AF.”

“I’d help however I could.”

“She’s not going to ask,” Remi admits, pulling clothes from her closet. “Maybe you can bring it up at some point.”

“Yeah. I will.” I hold out my arm and let her swoop the material over it until I can barely carry the weight.

She slides the handles of a tote bag up her arm and carries a box. I follow her down the stairs.

When we make it to the bottom, she reaches and struggles to open the door but eventually gets it. “All of you have something you’re passionate about. You, Beckett, and Sterling are into horse shit. Kinsley has the newspaper. Fenix is about to graduate, then probably work with you fucks at the barn. Emmett and his cows. Then, there’s my twin, who’s got his successful handyman business. Vera and her plants. London and her guitar. And then there’s me. I like puzzles, painting, and silence. I’m the Wednesday Addams of the Valentines!”

My head falls back with laughter. “You and Grace are going to have a blast.”

“I hope so. Something has to give.”

“She’s easy to get along with. You’ll have no issues.” I place all of her clothes in the back seat of my truck, and she puts the boxes in the bed. “Did you pick a word of the year?”

“Yeah, but I’m not telling you because I’m superstitious about it. I only tell people after the year is over, and only then does it all make sense. What about you?”

“Nope. No way. I don’t fuck with that.” I shake my head. “I’m gonna put a calendar reminder in my phone to ask you in one year.”

“I hope you do,” she says.

We make our way back upstairs and immediately get back to work. Three trips later, her room is empty. Stephanie’s still chatting with my parents in the kitchen, and they sound like they’re having a good time.

When we’re on the porch, Remi turns to me. “Gonna tell them bye?”

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