“Isthat a rabbit in my living room?” my dad asked, glaring at Killer, who was hopping from one end of Dad’s cream rug to the other and back. He’d also taken a bite out of a corner—the rabbit, not my dad—but thankfully decided against doing more damage.
“Evidence suggests that it is,” I deadpanned.
He hasn’t seen me in two years, and those are his first words to me?
Dad pointed at the ground. “That’s a Persian rug.”
I looked at said rug and blinked, hoping he wouldn’t notice the missing corner. Killer was housetrained, so I wasn’t worried about him doing his business anywhere he wasn’t supposed to.
I got up from where I was sitting on the floor. “Hi, Dad.”
I could have sworn his eyes got watery before he swept me into a hug.
“Not sure my ribs are made to endure as much pressure as is being forced on them right now,” I wheezed. I liked a good hug as much as the next person, but Dad was holding me so tight I wasn’t sure I’d get away without bruises.
Dad eased up on his hug but didn’t release me. “I’ve missed you, Fey.”
His voice wavered at my name.
“I’ve missed you too,” I croaked, my own voice betraying me.
My response was muffled since my head was buried in his chest. I tightened my arms around him. It was good to be back.
“Where is my baby?” Mom called out, and I found myself pulled away from Dad and into another set of equally familiar arms.
“You’re here.” She sniffled and pulled back, cupping my face. “Don’t you dare ever run away like that again.”
I cast my eyes down, staring at our feet, mine in socks, hers in pink slippers.
“Sorry, Momma. It was stupid to just run away.”
She released my face and wiped a few tears off her cheek. “It’s all in the past. You’re here now,” she said, a smile back on her face. “Who’s hungry?”
My brothers appeared next to us, lured by the call of food. I followed everyone into the dining room, my steps slow and measured. I felt awful about what a selfish cow I’d been when I left Chicago, but at the same time, I knew they would never have just let me go. They’d either have managed to talk me out of it or found another way to keep me close.
I’d longed to be my own person so much, but I hadn’t considered what me leaving would do to my family.
What I did regret was not contacting anyone in two years. I’d been too paranoid about them tracing the call. Turned out my dad knew the whole time where I was anyway.
I couldn’t even be mad. Especially not since I’d felt left out when I thought he hadn’t come looking for me. Clearly he didn’t need to since he’d had a tail on me from the moment I left his house.
We all sat down, and I felt a few missing pieces inside me click back together. Family was family, no matter how insane they were.
Or how much they acted like they’d never learned how to use cutlery. I stared at my brothers, who were stuffing too much food in their mouths and chewing openmouthed. I wiped a bit of half-chewed ham off my cheek, courtesy of Jude talking to me while devouring his food.
I’d forgotten what carnage mealtime was around here.
“So, Fey, does this mean you’re moving back?” Liam asked. At least he waited to talk to me until he’d swallowed the obscenely large piece of potato he’d shoved into his mouth.
I’d hoped nobody would ask the question, but I’d been expecting it. “Not sure what gave you that idea. My refusal to come along? The way I cursed you the whole trip here? You holding Killer hostage to get me on the plane?”
“Who’s Killer?” my mom asked.
Gabriel pointed to the floor, where Killer was munching on the dinner I’d set down for him earlier. I didn’t want him to feel left out and had fed him in the dining room.
“Is that a rabbit in my dining room?” my mom asked, her voice an octave too high.
“Mom, meet Killer,” I introduced them.
