Ethan was sitting at the table as well, cake half gone, crumbs on his shirt. His hoodie hung loose on his shoulders. His eyes glued to the screen, and one hand scrolled through his phone while he chewed. Detached and checked out. Like most boys entering their teenage years.
Dad lowered himself into the chair next to Lila. He was wearing a jersey.
“Can you put down that phone and have a conversation with us like a normal human being?” he complained to Ethan.
Ethan rolled his eyes and set his phone down with a little too much force. The thud echoed on the tabletop. He stared straight ahead, jaw tight.
I sat next to my grandma. “I have something for you,” I said and pulled a small gift from my pocket.
“We’re doing gifts later,” my dad said.
“Gift or cake first?” I asked her, ignoring him. Her eyes locked onto the box, and she blinked twice.
“All right, gift first,” I said and began unwrapping it. Inside was a gold wristband. Simple. Light. A small locket hung from it. I opened it carefully and turned it toward her so she could see my mom’s picture inside. Young. Smiling. Alive.
“I hope you like it,” I said as I slipped it around her stiff wrist. Her fingers curled slightly. The half smile deepened. A tear broke free and rolled down her cheek. That told me everything.
“That’s beautiful,” Amanda said softly, looking over my shoulder.
“Really great idea, and good call on giving the gift first,” my dad said, overly friendly. He always was when he talked to me. He applauded everything I did or said. Kissing my ass twenty-four seven. Not because he wanted to repair our relationship but because of the guilt he carried over his own shitty behavior toward my mom and us. Lila and Ethan had been too young back then to understand what he’d done, but I remembered. And had no intention of forgiving him anytime soon.
“Were you able to get me my steroid cream for my rash?” Lila asked me with a mouthful of cake.
“What rash?” my dad asked.
“Nothing,” she said, shrugging it off. “Just the same eczema that won’t go away.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s in the car. I’d better grab it now before I forget. Can somebody feed the cake to Grandma?”
“I’ll do it!” Elizabeth shouted, already thundering back into the room.
It was the cutest thing, seeing how much she loved my grandma—who wasn’t actually her grandma. But we never explained it like that. Grandma was Grandma.
I stood and stepped back to make room for Elizabeth. “Remember,” I said.
“Slow and small bites,” Elizabeth finished the sentence for me, serious and focused. I smiled and ran my hand over her golden-haired head.
“That’s right. Slow and small bites.”
I watched as Elizabeth lifted the fork and fed my grandma the first bite. She did really well. So I turned and headed for my car.
The cream was on my driver’s seat. I’d called it in and picked it up two days ago.
I grabbed the paper bag and was about to walk back when something made me stop.
A black SUV.
It was parked just off to the side on our quiet, private road, right in front of the metal gate leading up to the house.
What the fuck?
My gaze flicked back to the house. Then to the SUV. Should I call the cops?
But before I fully realized what I was doing, I was already getting into my car. I closed the door and roared the engine to life. I drove slowly down the driveway, pretending like everything was normal. Like we’d run out of milk and I’d been sent to grab some.
The automatic gate opened.
But the SUV didn’t move an inch.
