Page 41 of Colt

Abby’s been gone for three years, but I don’t think any of us knows how to talk about her death yet. I know I tiptoe around it because I don’t want to upset Dean.

“That’s very sweet,” Lainey says at last. “And clever. Bet your mom is so proud of you and looking down from heaven.”

A catch in my chest. Lainey is saying the right things. What takes me off guard, though, is how earnestly she says them. This is no bullshit bless your heart. This is heartfelt.

Wait, is she different?

Is she for real?

Because there’s this sadness in her eyes as she looks at Dean…

I don’t know. It makes me wonder what the deal is with her own family. Her relationships at the very least. Which seems kind of random, but I get the feeling that there’s something not great happening there.

Stop thinking about Lainey’s family.

Stop thinking about Lainey, period.

“Yup. Mom is proud of me,” Dean says. “I know, because I saw her in the sunrise this morning.”

I gulp my water for a different reason this time.

Lainey’s eyes are on me again. My face burns. I don’t want her sympathy. Or her judgment. I want to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible.

Why is there this funny, warm feeling inside my chest? Is that burning too? No, this feeling… It’s kinda good. And weird. And so foreign I can’t name it.

I certainly don’t trust it.

Supper lasts forever. I breathe out a sigh of relief when Mom gets up from the table, signaling the meal is over.

Lainey gets up too and immediately starts to gather up plates and silverware.

Mom stops her with a hand on her arm and shakes her head. “Whoever helps cook doesn’t clean up.”

Lainey’s brows pop up. “Really? But I’m happy to help⁠—”

“I’m sure you are.” Dad takes the pile of dishes out of her hands. “And we appreciate that. But this is one rule we insist you follow. Now go relax.”

Lainey stares at him like he has two heads. “Can I at least⁠—”

“No,” Mom and Dad say in unison. They smile at each other across the table.

“Y’all deserve a rest,” Dad says. “Put your feet up. Lainey, I hope you’ll stay awhile.”

Lainey’s eyes catch on mine. My heart hiccups at the uncertainty I see there, tinged with something like happy surprise.

My family ain’t perfect, but we do take care of each other, I wanna tell her. Now please leave.

Lainey does leave. But instead of walking out the front door, she follows Mom to the couch. Beck and Tate clear the table. Billie and Nash wipe down the stove and countertops. Mack is rearranging the contents of the fridge to make room for leftovers.

Dean and I roll up our sleeves and get on dish duty. My heart swells as my son climbs up on his stool and helps me scrub dishes. He even helps load the dishwasher, smiling proudly after he’s able to fit all one hundred of our plates, forks, and cups in the racks.

“Now that’s one fine job, Dean.” Dad is bending down to take out the trash. “Your daddy taught you well, huh?”

Dean wipes his hands on a towel. “Dad says you do it right or you don’t do it at all. Plus, it’s kind of fun. Like a puzzle, trying to fit it all in the dishwasher.”

Like a puzzle, trying to figure out Lainey Brown.

“Or like building something with LEGO bricks,” Lainey says from her perch beside Mom in the family room. They’re sipping more wine. “Takes some real brainpower, but it’s super satisfying when it comes together.”