I took a breath and set the basket on the island. “Home. His brother needed him. Marriage trouble.”
Instant collective gasp.
“Oh, no,” Mom murmured, brows knitting. “That poor family.”
“That poor Carson,” Violet corrected. “He must feel awful.”
“That poor Sienna,” Fiona added dramatically. “She finally finds a man who’s solid and sexy and can handle a backpack properly…”
“Fiona,” Dad warned without looking up.
“—and he leaves!” Fiona finished.
“He didn’t leave-leave,” I clarified. “He went to help his brother. He’ll be back in three days.”
“Three days?” Violet repeated, as if I’d saidthree decades.
“Yes. Just three days. Stop being dramatic.”
“You don’t get to call anyone dramatic,” Fiona said.
Beck snorted into his coffee.
I glared at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Beck said. “This is fascinating. You’re acting like a normal human with feelings.”
“Ialwayshave feelings.”
“Sure,” Beck said, “but usually they involve trails, moose, and obscure snacks found only in Scandinavian hiking stores.”
“Not true.”
“It is extremely true.”
Mom gave me a sympathetic smile. “How are you feeling about him being gone, honey?”
I opened my mouth, ready with a breezy, confident answer. Then another answer tried to slip out. A truer one. One that felt too exposed.
I swallowed. “I’m… fine. Really. He needed to go. I get it.”
Violet exchanged a look with Fiona. “You’re fine?”
“Yes,” I said firmly.
“Fine-fine or Harper-fine?” Fiona asked.
Dad sighed behind his paper. “Girls, leave your sister alone.”
But even he was watching me from above the newsprint.
I shifted, crossing my arms. “It’s three days. We aren’t, like…we’re not… whatever you all think we are.”
“You’re something,” Mom said.
“Mom!”
“What?” she asked innocently. “I’m not blind.”
