We laugh.
“I’m being loved to death,” I add.
“I’m so glad our talk about getting laid is on your mind,” Erin teases.
“Uh, that was too close to me talking about my grandpa and uncle.” I shudder.
“Eek, you’re right. Maybe it’smymind that’s on getting laid…all the time. Percy looked so good,” she whines.
“Do something about it,” Goldie says. “Go over to The Cozy Palette today and pull a Papa Hector and Uncle Hal and be helpful.”
Erin snorts. “If I didn’t have to go to work, I would go help Percy, all right. I’d get on my knees and—” She snaps and pointsat me. “I’ve got a good idea. Maybe if you got on your knees for Camden, he’d never argue with you again.”
My mouth drops and my face burns. I know without looking that it’s bright red.
“My, my,” Beverly says. “The things young women talk about these days.” She moves up to the counter, and Goldie and Erin shuffle out of the way so she can place her order.
Sorry, Erin mouths, backing away.
I glare at her, annoyed that she’d say such a thing. And for taking my mind to being on my knees in front of Camden.
It also takes every ounce of my willpower not to laugh.
I lift my hand to say bye as Goldie and Erin start to walk to the door and focus on Beverly.
But my mind is on Camden and what it would feel like to finally shut him up.
I fan my face.
Papa and Uncle Hal must be right—I am overwhelmed.
If I were okay, I’d never think these thoughts.
That little voice rears up again, calling me out for my lack of honesty.
Camden’s not the only one who needs to shut up.
CHAPTER FIVE
HIDEAWAY
CAMDEN
Past: Camden, age 13, Juju, age 11
The tree house finally looked right.
We’d gotten a lake home in Windy Harbor, a few hours from St. Paul, and after we talked about how much we loved it there, the Fairs got a vacation home there too. Now our summers were spent by the lake, swimming and fishing and exploring the woods. I loved it there. We all did.
We’d spent the summer working on the tree house, between our property and the old cabins and resort next to us, and getting it how we wanted had taken us weeks. We scrubbed the floor, fixed the door, and strung up battery-powered lights that Juju insisted we needed. Jackson and I pretended the lights were silly, but I secretly thought they were cool. Dad let us take his old Bluetooth speaker when he got a new one, and we rigged it to the rafters. Tully and I carried up sleeping bags, along with playing cards and board games, and a plastic tub filled with candy. Juju and Goldie cut up material and hung it on either side ofthe window, makeshift curtains that Juju held back with a little rope. They looked good.
The place felt like ours.
No parents calling us down to help carry groceries or work in the yard. Just us, stretched out on mismatched pillows in our little hideaway, drinking cold Cokes out of the bottle.
And no siblings, not today anyway.
I loved my little sister and my brothers, but there were times I didn’t want the responsibility of making sure everyone was okay. Noah was out with his girlfriend all the time these days, so I was the oldest when it came time to play, and sometimes I just needed to do what I wanted for a while.
