Mia was hunkered down beneath the blankets on the sofa bed when we returned, music blaring through her headphones. I stared at the lump of her. Even if I could coax her out, what could I say that would make a difference? I couldn’t bring her brother back.
Kitty crawled beside Mia on the bed and curled around her.
“Should I talk to her?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Kitty whispered. “It’s usually me.”
“She probably wants to be alone, right?”
Kitty shrugged.
I sank into the chair at my desk and checked skinny-dipping off the list. “One down, seven to go,” I muttered. I scanned the remaining items, starting to suspect my plan to distract the girls might not be as effective as I’d hoped.
“Sorry, Aunt Jo,” Kitty said.
“For what?”
“For all the crying, I guess.”
I joined her on the bed and rested one hand on her and the other on Mia. Kitty had always been sensitive, but this was different. And Mia, she was a different kid from the girl I’d snuck a sip of my champagne on New Year’s—the last time I’d seen the kids before the accident. She had the same personality, the sarcasm and tough attitude, but now there was a current of anger beneath it that hadn’t been there before.
“You’re forgetting I lived with you when you were babies,” I said. “I can handle a little crying.”
“Do you think she’s okay?” Kitty asked.
I looked at Mia, a girl who was pranking me one minute and having a meltdown the next. Obviously, she wasn’t okay. None of us were. But Ididn’t want Kitty to worry. “I think she’ll be fine. She just needs some sleep.”
Kitty nodded and said she was going to bed. I tried not to worry about them as I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth, but did anyway. I’d been just like them once, a teenager wading through grief that seemed like it would never end. And it hadn’t, not really. It only changed. But I knew that wouldn’t help Mia or Kitty right now. I ran over the events of the day in my mind, amazed the girls had only been here for twenty-four hours. But if there was one good thing about this whole night, it was that after this, Alex would never want to speak to me again.
Which was perfect, seeing as I’d be avoiding him for the rest of my life.
Six
The next morning, before I left for work, I blocked the TV by standing between it and the couch, where Mia and Kitty lay head to head, their legs draped over its arms. Mia’s phone rested on her chest, while Kitty hadThe Art of Waropen on hers. Their empty cereal bowls were stacked on the side table, but at least they’d folded up the sofa bed.
“Move, Jo!” Mia sat up on her elbows, craning her neck to try to see the TV. “I need to know if she’s going to flip out when she sees her best friend wearing the same dress as her!”
“What?” I turned over my shoulder to glance at the TV, where, sure enough, a glossy-haired sixteen-year-old in a tiara and bubble-gum-pink dress looked ready to burst into tears, and then whipped back around. “You aren’t supposed to watch without me!”
“She’s right,” Kitty said, and Mia clicked off the TV with a scowl.
“Thank you. I’m off to work and won’t be home until six, so we need to lay down some ground rules.”
Mia and Kitty groaned in unison, burying their faces in the couch pillows.
Usually, the kids came down for only two or three weeks. I’d takesome well-deserved vacation time and spend every hour with them that I could. This was the first time I’d have to work while they were here, and I was looking forward to my two weeks off in July, even if I’d just be staying in Palm Beach.
“The rules won’t be bad, I promise. I’m thecoolaunt, remember?”
“You’re our only aunt,” Kitty said.
Mia lifted her face from the pillow, her expression stricken. “You sound like a... a...mom.”
“Oh, shut up.” I grabbed one of the pillows they’d knocked to the floor and threw it at her face. “I’m serious. I’m going to be worried about you all day if you don’t listen.”
“All right, all right,” Mia said. She and Kitty sat up and smoothed their wrinkled pajamas, looking as serious as chairwomen at a board meeting.
“We’re ready for your presentation, Ms. Walker,” Mia said with a nod.
