“You,” Morgan said affably. It was true. He and Katie had been their own unit from an early age, her taking on the role of teacher and sometimes protector, him being a source of unconditional love and companionship. Neither of them had seen their father since they were teenagers, and their mother’s choices and partners over the years had left a lot to be desired. Katie had escaped with the advent of her marriage, and Morgan had escaped to college and to the business world.
And now here they were, fifteen years later, both of them having left those things behind. They still had each other, though. And Nicki, who was grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the stairs.
“Come on, Uncle Morgan. I’ll show you where your room is.”
“I remember where the guest room is,” Morgan said as he slipped off his shoes.
“No, I’m talking aboutyourroom,” Nicky insisted.
Morgan glanced at his sister. “What?”
“We tailored the guest room to your tastes a little bit,” Katie said, not looking up from where she was stirring spaghetti sauce on the stove. “Just to make it more comfortable for you.”
Huh. Morgan had the sneaking suspicion he was missing something important here. “Thank you.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” his sister said. “Why don’t you go look at it?”
“Okay.” Morgan let Nicki pull him up the stairs and to the second room on the right. The guest room had once been whereher ex-husband kept all of his music gear. Every trace of him had been eradicated after the divorce, though. The last Morgan had been there, it had been furnished with a single bed, a chest of drawers, and a table with a lamp on it.
Now Morgan’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped into the room. It felt cozy in a way it hadn’t before, with a thick blue comforter on the queen-size bed and a recliner in the corner that had its own floor lamp. The walls had been painted sage green, his favorite color. There was a bookshelf full of the books he’d left behind at home when he went away to college, and the pictures on the dresser were of family. One showed Nicki in his arms, beaming a gap-toothed grin as they smiled for the camera. Another was of him and Katie, their mouths open with laughter as they sat on the porch of his San Francisco apartment.
Bentley had taken that one. Morgan had had his own copy of it, but that was one more thing he’d left behind in his rush to get out.
“Do you like it?” Nicki asked, breaking the silence.
Morgan cleared his throat. “I love it,” he said. “It looks amazing. Did you help your mom with this?”
“I did, I picked the paint.” Nicki launched into a detailed explanation of painting the walls, emphasizing how careful they had been, how very little paint she’d spilled, and how her mom had been able to get it out of her hair anyway, so it didn’t count as making a mess. As she rambled, the weight of the emotions he felt lifted a little. By the time the pair of them went back down to dinner, Morgan was able to hug his sister and thank her without tears in his eyes.
“You’re the best,” he told her.
“And you’re always welcome,” Katie replied, patting him on the back. “I want you to know that. We want you here.”
A part of Morgan wanted to promise to be here, to turn his stay into a longer one. If he’d been as alone on Parrish Islandas he’d thought he would be, his sister’s offer would probably be impossible to resist despite the proximity to the rest of his family. But now …
“I’ll never be able to follow you.”
“Thank you,” he said again, unable to commit to more than that. “I love you guys.”
“Hmm, I know,” his sister said, an assessing look in her eye. “Come on, let’s eat.”
The food was simple but plentiful, and the conversation flowed easily between the three of them. When he asked about where they were spending Christmas Day the next day, Katie said, “It’ll be at Mom’s place. I know, I know, I tried to have it here, but she insisted. She’s dying to host us all, and her newest boyfriend’s actually got a big-enough space for it, so.” She shrugged.
“Great.” Morgan didn’t feel very great about it, but there wasn’t much else he could say under the circumstances. “What do we need to bring?”
“Nothing but ourselves, according to Mom,” Katie replied sarcastically. “Which means two sides, an appetizer, and a bottle of wine at the very least.”
“Got it,” Morgan said. “Do we need to go to the store?”
“Oh no, I’ve got it taken care of already. The ingredients are prepped,” Katie said. “It’ll be easy to put it all together in the morning. How long are you staying, again?”
“Through Sunday,” Morgan said, trying not to feel like he was being put on the spot.
“Not even a full week?”
He shook his head. “No. I, uh, I need to get back.”
Katie arched one eyebrow. “Do youreallyneed to get back so early?”
