“What is she going to do, tackle you?”
“Not if it might damage Tom,” I say, carefully maneuvering him out of the backseat.
I’ve just gotten him out, along with a five-gallon helium tank, when I turn to see Brianna standing directly behind me. I yelp, and the next few seconds are a nightmarish blur.
I fumble the tank, and in my desperation to catch it, smack her hard in the face with Tom, whose cardboard head bends all the way backward. She gasps, which turns into a scream when the tank, which I donotcatch, lands directly on her nearly bare foot, before bouncing loudly down the driveway.
“Goddamnit,” she roars, slapping Jude’s car right beside me.
I gasp and hide behind Tom’s flapping head while Brianna grabs her injured foot, cursing loud enough to wake the dead.
Jude appears, physically putting himself between me and Brianna, and while he doesn’t stop a careening van with his palm, I still feel like I’m suddenly living out all my teenTwilightfantasies.
“Please back away from Gracie,” he says in a voice so calm and at odds with Brianna’s that it catches her attention.
“And who are you?” she snaps, giving him a once-over.
“The person helping Gracie transport all the supplies she’s been kindly buying and storing for you. Now would you mind helping us carry some of this inside?”
Brianna’s frown deepens, but surprisingly, she stalks off to retrieve the helium tank before heading back inside.
“So, was that Brianna or Josie?” Jude asks pleasantly, as though my stepsister greeted him with a plate of warm brownies and a hug.
“Brianna,” I say, taking a calming breath. “Jude, listen—”
“No, I’m not having second thoughts,” he says, brushing a straypiece of my hair into place. “In fact, I’m only more convinced that you should go in there and say your piece. And then maybe set Tom Brady on fire.”
“He did make a pretty good shield,” I point out.
“Here’s a thought: maybe you shouldn’tneeda shield from your family.”
I sigh. “Okay, let’s do this.”
When we’ve finished loading everything onto the kitchen counter, Jude is properly introduced to my mom and stepsisters. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they’re stiff and uncomfortable as he shakes each of their hands in turn. But it’s no problem for Jude. Apparently, awkward silences are his comfort zone.
“I hear your teenie-weenies are a slam dunk, Mrs. Bowen,” he says, purposefully not meeting my gaze while my mom makes a halfhearted offer to whip some up.
“If only,” he responds regretfully. “But I’m on a strict diet—I’m sure Brianna and Josie know how it goes. Is it true you both played Division One volleyball? I swam a little in college.”
I try not to gawk as, somehow, with sheer civility, he turns my loud and demanding family into paragons of politeness. My jaw may as well be on the floor when Brianna asks us if we’d like some water or coffee.
“Water would be great, thanks, Brianna,” Jude says. “Gracie?”
He looks at me, and I realize that up until now, I haven’t uttered a single word to anyone. With every nicety he’s delivered, Jude has created the best possible baseline for laying my boundaries. And yet, my brain is theWheel of Fortuneon fire, spinning every possible lie I could give instead.Sorry, my cottage flooded! Sorry, I’m getting a nose job the day of your party! Sorry, I’ve decided to sell all my earthly possessions and flee into the woods!
“Honey, what can we get you?” my mom asks. “I’ve got some coffee milk if you want that instead.”
It’s the “honey” that jolts me out of my freeze state. It’s the first time she hasevercalled me that, and I have the unnerving feeling of having accidentally walked onto a studio set with actors playing my family. “I’m okay, thanks,” I say as Brianna hands Jude a water glass.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” Mom says. After a moment, she glances at the pile of boxes and slowly thawing shrimp. “This is more than the favors we thought you were bringing,” she comments.
This is it. But I’m a kid frozen on the high dive for the first time, looking down into what I’m sure are shark-infested waters. Jude and I rehearsed what I want to say and even anticipated their reactions. I’m not unprepared, I’m just… scared. Terrified of taking away the one thing my family values me for. Without it, I’m that superfluous little girl again, replaced by her new siblings. The college student who clung too hard to the first man who showed any interest in her and later couldn’t let him go when it was time. I’m the woman doing the same thing now with Larkwood and who, at this rate, will probably end up completely alo—
My inner thoughts stop circling the drain when Jude’s hand reaches for mine. I grab on tight. When I glance at him, he gives me a small nod filled with confidence and the assurance that I’mnotalone. Not today.
I look at my mom as I take a deep breath and say, “I’m dropping everything off because I can’t do any more planning. I also can’t come to the party because I have a wedding to coordinate that weekend.”
For a moment, the only sound in the room is my pounding heart, which I’m sure can be heard by every dog in Rhode Island. Then Josie says, “What do you mean you can’t do any more planning? The party’s next weekend! You can’t hit us with a curveball like this—who’s going to decorate, and pick up the grill, and make the balloon arch and—”
