“Yes, you are.”
I set my brush down and face her, my hands bracketingmy hips. “I have this handled. It’s fine. I don’t need you to worry about whether I’m going to get to it.”
She tilts her head and crosses her arms, cocking her hip. “You’re going to push this off until the very last minute, and you’ll end up in crisis mode.”
“I won’t end up in crisis mode.”
Riley knows what that looks like for me: my hands raking through my hair while I mutter words to myself. One minute I’m a social butterfly, the next, I’m locked in a room trying to figure out how to figure things out on my own.
“Let me guess, you’re not gonna ask anyone for help?”
My foot taps on the wooden floor, the sound bouncing around the room. There’s nothing I can say in return because she’s right. I’m not asking for help, and Iwillend up putting it off until the last minute.
“You know your mom will help you.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I know that. I don’t need her help, though.”
She drops her arms, softening her stance, which makes her more approachable. “I know you don’t want to ask for help, okay? But there isn’t anything to be ashamed of if you do. I get that you want to make your dad proud, but do you think he’ll be proud if you’re struggling to keep up with things?”
We haven’t had an honest discussion like this in a long time. Riley is wise beyond her years, and I envy her for that. Her intelligence is what attracts me the most, and damn, I fucking miss her.
“And if you don’t want to go to anyone else for it, then at least ask me.”
The green color that wraps around the golden honey of her eyes steadies my heartbeat, but it picks back up when I realize she’s offering to help me if I feel myselfgetting lost. My thoughts tumble with words that try to come out of my mouth. I open it to say something, anything, but we’re interrupted when someone comes in.
“We’re back,” Ellie sings.
“We brought tacos,” Rowan says in excitement.
Riley and I still stand, facing each other, while Ellie and Rowan talk to each other.
“Promise me you’ll ask me for help if you really need it, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
FIVE
AUGUST
“August!” Ellie yells out, her heels clacking on the pavement.
I’m standing outside the restaurant for Mom’s birthday dinner. My sister greets me with a radiating glow, and Rowan walks beside her, holding onto her hand. He tilts his chin up at me in greeting.
“Are mom and dad here yet?” she asks.
I check the time on my watch. “They should be here in a few minutes. How’s Biscuit doing?”
Biscuit is Ellie and Rowan’s new addition to their family. He’s become Milo’s—their golden retriever—little brother and tiny shadow. They were nervous about adding another dog to the family since Milo’s an only child, but it was no surprise when they introduced the two.
Biscuit and Milo have become the best of friends.
“We’ve moved on from doggy pads in the house to going to the bathroom outside.” Rowan sighs. “I forgot what it’s like to raise a puppy.”
“He’s preparing you for when you two decide to have kids.”
“I’ve gotten used to the whining,” Ellie says. “It’s not that bad.”
“That’s because you cave and give him what he wants,” Rowan says.
