I know she needs that kind of consistency, after Mom.
But some of it—just as much of it, really—was Adam, who’d never quite warmed up to Boston, and who liked the idea of being that much closer to his family in Missouri. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for Broadside employees to work remotely, and Adam hadn’t had a difficult time negotiating an arrangement, though the conversation with Salem had been a bit more strained at first. Until he officially told her he was moving here, I don’t think Salem realized how much she’d come to rely on him at work, how essential he’d been to helping her through the release of the new Baltimore podcast.
It’s been out for almost a year now, the five-episode “update” toThe Last Con of Lynton Baltimore.One episode for every postcard, though Salem talked less about them than you’d think. In fact, she talked less about my mother than you’d think, and less about me and Tegan, too.
She kept the focus on Lynton, and on herself.
It hadn’t been a huge hit, but by the time it released, that seemed fine by her.
She said she was doing it to close the book on Baltimore, not start a new one.
I admit—I was relieved that it wasn’t a bigger deal, that it didn’t get the kind of attention that would’ve meant every single person I met would ask me about it.
But even if it had, I think I could’ve handled it. I think I’m a lot better at handling it now. It helps, I’m sure, that I still don’t get on the internet all that much.
It helps that I have Adam with me.
I lean over the counter, helpless not to give him at least a brief congratulatory kiss. But of course, it’s easy to sink into it, especially when he lifts a hand to the nape of my neck, pushing his fingers into my put-up hair and probably loosening it from its bun. In seconds my mouth opens to his, my tongue sliding against his lower lip, and he groans in relief. There’s a little alarm in my brain about my plan, the secret I’m supposed to keep, but I smash the snooze button. This is fine, with the counter between us; he won’t be able to—
“Oh no, my eyes!” interrupts a laughing, familiar voice, and Adam and I jerk apart immediately.
The tops of his ears are bright red.
“I came in the back!” says Tegan brightly, tugging a huge duffel through the sliding door. “Who knew I’d walk into ol’ mom and dadmaking outin the kitchen!”
I roll my eyes and Adam chuckles in spite of his embarrassment. This little mom-and-dad joke is one Tegan’s been loving for months, ever since Adam officially moved in. I pretend to hate it, but really, I don’t. I know me and Adam are nothing like Tegan’s mom and dad, but her lightness about it, her happiness about us being together—it reassures me about all the things she and I have worked on since we got back from that fated road trip. Trust and honesty and transparency, and also the privacy we give each other, too.
I set down the cookie batter and come around the counter. I know she has more bags in the car, but for now, all I want to do is hug my sister.
She puts her arms around my shoulders to tug me to her butshe’s careful—because she’s in on this thing with me, though she doesn’t know all the details. When we’re wrapped in a hug, she whispers in my ear, “Does he know yet?” and I shake my head quickly. I don’t get to whisper back, because then Adam is there, too, wrapping us both up in his big arms.
I suppress a wince when he hits the wrong spot.
“Okay drive, Teeg?” he asks.
“Piece of cake,” she answers, her voice muffled against him or me. It’s hard to tell, pretzeled all together as we are.
He stands back—I breathe out a sigh of relief—and sets his hands on his hips, looking down at Tegan seriously. He looks like Adam Senior when he stands this way.
“You turned on the all-wheel drive?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, nerd. It’s barely snowing.”
Adam nods approvingly. He helped her pick out a used compact SUV this past summer, before she headed back to school. He took it so seriously. He takes everything with her so seriously: her classes and extracurriculars at school, her feelings, their relationship.
I’m so in love with him it hurts.
At the moment, it actuallyphysicallyhurts.
“Okay!” I say, too brightly. “Adam, why don’t you help Tegan get the rest of her things, and I’ll put the first batch of cookies in. And then we’ll have dinner!”
OhGod.
I sound like a different person. Adam is staring at me as if I’ve grown a second head, but thankfully, my sister has my back.
She tugs on his sleeve and pulls him toward the partially open back door.
But when he’s out, she turns back to me, giving me a coconspirator’s narrow-eyed warning.
