Keats bounces Bo on his knee and plays with his little arms. “I’ll be around more as I will handling legal for the Spinners. Anyhow, you know I’m always just a phone call away, and I should have visited more, but you were kind ofpersistent that having space to return to normalcy has been helping.”
Summer looks in my direction for a millisecond. “I thought so,” she says softly.
A silence overcomes us as we all accept the fact that Summer had it all wrong.
Keats thinks she’s admitting to needing more support.
And I believe it’s because she needs me.
Keats wanders his eyes around him then picks up the stuffed monkey. “This is the weirdest monkey ever.”
“It’s a proboscis monkey,” I clarify.
Summer snorts a laugh. “Nash got it for Bo when he was born, and Bo won’t sleep without it.”
Yet again, Keats shoots his eyes between Summer and me.
Luckily, I’m saved by the doorbell. “I’ll get that.”
“We’ll head into the kitchen,” Summer says and already begins to shuffle on the floor.
I head to the door and answer to collect the bag of food. I double-check the receipt stapled to the paper bag to ensure that we have the right order, thank the delivery man with a tip, and make my way to the kitchen where Summer is buckling Bo into his chair.
“Mashed avocado?” I ask her, and she throws me an appreciative look as I set the food on the table. Like our normal routine, I grab an avocado from the fruit bowl and get to work on getting Bo’s plate ready.
“Oh, can you get his bib? I think the blue one is clean,” she requests.
Picking up the bib by the sink, I raise it in the air. “Got it.”
I can’t help noticing that Keats is studying us intently as Summer and I work together in our new rhythm that is ourevening routine. It’s a minute later when we’re settled at the table.
“Make yourself useful and unpack the boxes,” Summer goads her brother.
They’ve always been close in their own sort of way. As much as Keats’s sharp stare is unnerving, he’s making Summer appear lighter today. She’s smiling more than normal.
“How’s Everhope?” I’m putting in the effort to make conversation.
At last, Keats seem to ease. “I think I like it. My house is almost ready, and right now my neighbor’s house is empty, so I have extra privacy. Someone won’t be moving in for another few months. There is a lot of space in my house, too. A few bedrooms too many, and I’m desperate for a houseguest with a baby. Hint, hint.”
Summer is busy loading her plate and doesn’t look up. “You’ve mentioned a few times.”
“You already turned down my offer to move out of Lake Spark for a change of scene,” he reminds Summer.
Her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth. “I have this house, and Zac would have wanted me to live here. I can’t run. It won’t change that he’s gone.”
The air evaporates from the room, and the only sound is in the background, Bo making muffled noises with his spoon.
I bring my hand to rest on the nape of my neck, realizing that when I least expect it something slices into me. It seems that this is one of those times.
“Summer.” His voice is near authoritarian because he noticed that Summer’s mood dropped. Keats places his hand on her arm to comfort her. “It’s okay. It will get better.” She rips her arm away from his grasp and abruptly stands to leave the table and flee the room.
Keats immediately sighs and realizes his error. “I should go fin?—”
“No. I’ll do it,” I cut in, and my palm indicates for him to stay put. To my surprise he seems to agree.
Leaving Bo and Keats in the kitchen, I don’t need to search where Summer is as I know she’s upstairs, probably pacing in front of Bo’s room. That’s her spot when she’s upset. I skip steps to get to her faster, and despite her back to me, I already know when she turns that tears will be pooling in her eyes.
“Summer.”
