They love us, obviously, and we love them, but it was just a different time for all of us. Thankfully, a lot has changed since then. I don’t see them as often as my siblings who live in Illinois, but more than I did when I was a kid.
“I still can’t believe her parents didn’t even tell her they weren’t going to be home.” Chase shakes his head. “I mean, it’s not likethey’re usually around when she’s home; they have work, but at least she gets some time with them.”
“It’s surprising, but it’s also not surprising at all. Why do you think Tate basically lived at our house growing up? Once they moved in next door and Tate met our family, it’s like her family realized they didn’t need to be around as often.”
“It’s got to suck though.” Stella rubs her belly, but I seem to be the only one to notice it.
“It has to bother her.” Mom rubs circles on Bode’s back. He tried to stay up and hang out with the ‘grown-ups,’ but it lasted about five minutes. “I didn’t even want any of you guys staying at Tate’s house while you’re here. I only get to spend so much time with you guys. I’ll take every second I get.”
“They’ve always been like this, though, Jenny.” Mama’s face twists. “I loved having Tate here when she was younger, but I couldn’t imagine having a kid and then never being around to take care of them.”
“Ange,” Mom reaches for her hand, “some people just aren’t meant to be parents. Some people like the idea more than they like the actual parenting part.”
“Doesn’t she have a sister?” Freddie asks. “She didn’t want to spend the holiday with Tate?”
“Naomi doesn’t really care.” I shrug. “I’m sure she loves Tate in her own way, but I think part of her resents Tate for being a thing in the first place.”
“Because her mom moved on with another man?” Stella leans forward.
“No. She loves Steven. Honestly, he raised her more than her own dad did. I just think she wanted to be an only child and—”
“They act like she is.” My mom crosses her arms. “They’ve always been prouder of Naomi than they have of Tate, and it’s always bugged me. That girl upstairs is so special, and they can’t see it because she doesn’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer.”
“Yeah. She says it doesn’t bother her, and maybe it doesn’t anymore, but I’ll never forget the number of times I found her crying by that big oak tree in their backyard. Most of the time I caught her, she was crying because her parents forgot about a performance, or they didn’t wish her a happy birthday, or they just didn’t seem to care.”
“Steven Lewis always seemed like such a great and attentive dad,” Mama sighs. “When he came to pick her up from your birthday party, he chatted with us for an hour before he went to find her. He thanked us for letting her come and for all of the times we’d let her stay for dinner in the two years since they moved next door. And he told us he was trying to change things to be around more often.”
“Well, that never happened.” I scratch the back of my neck.
“She’s lucky they moved next door to you guys.” Stella smiles. “Not many people would open their doors, let alone their hearts, to a child.”
“Our moms have a knack for that.” Chase places a hand on Mom’s shoulder and glances over at Mama.
“It was easy to let Tate in,” Mom says.
“It was,” I begin. “Maybe because after we did it once, we couldn’tget rid of her.”
Freddie tosses a pillow at me, but I dodge it.
“Hey!” My jaw falls. “What was that for?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t love Tate spending every second here.” Freddie’s eyes narrow. “You were obsessed with her, Fletch.
“I was not!” I argue, but all their expressions tell me otherwise. “Okay, maybe I was. But I was a kid.”
“A kid?” Stella laughs. “You’ve looked at her the same way you always have. From the first time I saw you with her, when you introduced us for the first time, to just a few hours ago, that look hasn’t changed.”
“What’re you saying?” I raise an eyebrow.
“That you, my friend, are in love with Tate.”
“I am not.”
It’s a lie. The biggest lie I’ve ever told. It’s not like I think they’re going to go tell Tate about my late-night confessional, but I think it’s easier to lie about it than to admit it out loud.
“Sweetie.” My mom scoots forward, placing a hand on my leg. “You’ve been in love with that girl since you heard her singing under that tree. Since you dragged all of us to the talent show to hear her play guitar for the first time because you knew her parents wouldn’t be there. Since—”
“Okay.” I roll my eyes. “I get it. Thank you.”
