I scrunch my nose with irritation. Typically, a snow day wouldn’t be that big of a deal: I’d stay home, watch shitty movies, make soup, and dilly-dally until the streets are plowed. But this week, I’m helping Jesse with Emma, and when a storm hits, Jesse has a lot on his plate since he picks up odd jobs plowing around town and has to ensure everything is okay here on the farm. Mrs. King could probably take over, but I know she’ll be busy making sure Mr. King is safe out on the property, and the last thing I want is for Wren to come back from her trip and find out I added to the stress instead of easing it.
“Do you mind if I spend the night in Wren’s old room on Wednesday night?” I ask Mrs. King, knowing it’s what Wren would do if she were watching Emma this week, wanting to stay close but knowing getting home would be too risky. “That way, I don’t have to worry about getting home after watching Emma if the snow is crazy.”
“Of course not,” she says with a smile and a shake of her head. “I’ll make sure it’s all good for you.”
“No need, really. I just need a bed to sleep in.” She rolls her eyes at my dismissal, which is expected.
“You also could just stay home,” Jesse says. “Emma could have a sleepover with Mom.”
“Dad, no!” Emma whines. “We have to keep working on our makeup and cooking lessons!”
Jesse turns to his daughter, frustration evident on his face. He mentioned he’s been butting heads with her a lot, which, from spending a few days with her, I can understand—especially since he and Emma are complete opposites in personality. To try and prevent the coming argument, I drape my arm around her shoulders and pull her in close. When she looks at me, irritation fades into disappointment, softening something in my chest.
Wren has told me there’s a history of her mom making promises she never keeps, so I tread that line carefully.
“No need to pout, Em. Even if, for some reason, it doesn’t work, I can come one day this week. I promise to make it up to you, but there’s no need to give anyone else a hard time, especially your dad, who is trying to make sure I stay safe.” Jesse looks at me from across the table, and relief and appreciation are written clear across his face. I give him a wink, feeling like we’re on a secret team right now, working together to keep Emma happy. He gives me a slight nod before looking down at his plate again.
“Okay,” Emma grumbles, then picks up her roll and takes a much larger-than-polite bite, but I don’t mention it.
“You should just move into my old place,” Madden says, waving a fork in my direction. “You keep bitching about living next to Colt, and the house is just sitting there.”
“I don’t bitch,” I say, glaring at Madden.
He gives me wide, disbelieving eyes. “Sure you don’t.”
“I don’t!” I repeat, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him. It hits him in the nose and falls into his lap, making Emmagiggle. “I occasionallycomplain, the same way Wren would if she were stuck living in a house with paper-thin walls right next to you.”
“It’s not like you’re bringing home anyone where the thin walls would actually matter,” he mumbles, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips like he knows that’s going to annoy me. This is our way: teasing and taunting and irritating until one of us cracks and we start laughing so loud and hard, neither of us can breathe.
“I’m sorry that I’m not constantly out looking for some—” I start, but Mrs. King cuts off our bickering in a smooth, practiced move she’s used a hundred times.
“That’s actually a good idea, Madden. Hallie, you’re here nearly every day anyway, so it would probably save you gas money,” she says. “You absolutely should move in there.”
I stare at her with wide eyes and shake my head. “No, no. I really couldn’t. That’s…that’s not necessary.”
“I disagree. It makes perfect sense to me,” Mr. King adds, and the panic in my chest builds.
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to impose,” I say, knowing I’ve imposed on the Kings more times over my life than I’d like to admit.
Mr. King shakes his head. “No, no, it wouldn’t be an imposition at all. That building is just sitting there! Hell, I’d actually feel better havingsomeonethere. It would make me feel less silly about building it.”
“And I’d feel better about having you close! I love having all of my kids close by,” Mrs. King says with a broad, genuine grin that strikes me in my chest.
There were a few buildings on the King property other than the farm, office, storage barn, and a small retail shop at the base of the farm: the main house where we are now, the one that was built for Jesse and Emma, and a second, smaller home intendedfor Madden that now lies vacant. From what I understand, they were also going to build a small house for Wren, but they learned she would be inheriting her grandmother’s home and figured Wren would enjoy that more. Mr. and Mrs. King love having all of their kids close, and since they have the means and the land, they have done what they can to ensure that.
Never in a million years did I thinkIwould be included in that.
“I don’t?—”
“Madden just said you’re not loving living with Colt, and Wren told me you were looking for a new place, right?”
I mentally shake my fist at my best friend, who listened to my whine about living in the split home with my brother, who is incredibly nosy and has no concept of personal space—something that says a lot when coming from me. Two weeks ago, I was telling her that the sheer number of times he’s come over without knocking and almost walked in on me having a date with my vibrator is honestly getting obscene, and she was laughing so hard, tears were coming down her cheeks.
“I mean…” I hesitate, unsure of what to say. “Yes, but?—”
“So it’s settled. You’ll move in,” Mrs. King states with a grin.
I open my mouth, looking around the table for a single person to vouch that this is crazy, but find none.
