“I will. Wait! One more thing.”
He chuckles. “What do you need?”
“The smoke detector was chirping when I left. The one in my bedroom.”
“Lucy in the Sky,” he says with mock incredulity. “Are you trying to get me into your bedroom?”
“If you can make that noise stop before I get home, then yes.” I laugh as I lug my backpack over the seat. “It’s messy. Don’t judge me.”
“If I go in your bedroom, I’ll have to snoop through everything and judge you thoroughly.”
“Go ahead. I apologize for the lack of entertainment value. Just don’t trip on my shoes. They’re everywhere.”
“I’m aware of the hazardous conditions. I’ll take care of it. Go see your mom.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you soon. Bye, Jude.” I end the call and slide my phone in my pocket just in time for my sweet baby brother to wallop me in the stomach with a basketball.
“Oof! Thanks, Jamie. I missed you too.”
Welcome back, Lucy. Welcome back.
Chapter 20
Wayward Son
Iswipe the ball up with one hand and lob it back at Jamie as he laughs hysterically.
“Gotcha! You’re gettin’ slow!”
He catches it and runs down to the goal at the end of their cul-de-sac.
“I’ll be down there in a minute to beat the crap out of you!” I yell as I retrieve my overnight bag.
Sunlight catches Liza’s blue-green eyes from where she spies me through the storm door. Two stringy blond braids, a shade lighter than mine, perfectly frame her heart-shaped baby face.
She’s fourteen now, but she’ll always look eight to me.
Except she’staller.My baby sister, whose diapers I changed, had the audacity to surpass my height by at least three inches. And she could still be growing.Brat. She smiles her sweet silver-bracketed smile, swinging the door wide as I climb the three steps to the porch.
“You’re staying in my room, and I have surprises!” She beams.
“I know. No one else has an extra bed. I hope you have books and snacks!” I tug one of her braids, genuinely excited to shut my brain off for two days.
“Lucy, is that you?” Mom calls out from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom, it’s me.” I dump my bags on the couch and head toward her voice. “Hey!”
She wipes her hands on a dish towel and hugs me in front of the stove. “You were supposed to call me when you were getting close so I could plan dinner.”
“Oh, sorry. I was on the phone.” I pick up a clean spoon and dip in the gravy she’s making for mashed potatoes.
“Stop it, Lucy Sky. If you called, it would’ve been ready. You didn’t bring any stragglers with you this time, did you?”
My mom, Mary Brooks, is a fabulous cook and host. The house is old and small but always clean and welcoming. I can show up with anyone at any time, and she’ll make them feel right at home—especially since my dad isn’t around anymore. I don’t know many people in Cookeville, but Annie’s been here, and I’ve been home with her.
Alex and Joey were always at our house in Kentucky. It wasn’t much different; except I had my own room. That’s something I didn’t have at the last two houses. I guess they were counting on me getting the heck out of Dodge. Since I didn’t have a car in high school, friends were always picking me up or dropping me off, and they almost always stayed to eat or pull out the guitars and sing. That’s why I love the townhouse in Crappie Branch. It’s like I reinvented the best parts of my teen years.
“To my knowledge, no one followed me, Mom. No promises though.” I give her a big cheesy grin, knowing she’s remembering all the times I called to ask if Dad was home so I could bring someone with me. My dad hated having people over.
