Page 130 of Made for Mayhem

“I didn’t get stuck,” Jace hollered from the porch. “You said you wanted to be an explorer, so we were checking out uncharted shores. There’s a difference.”

Beckett snorted, ruffling Junie’s tangled ponytail as he stepped inside with a duffel over one shoulder. “Took me and a rope to tow Captain Explorer back.”

Emmy followed, sunglasses pushed up into her dark hair, iced coffee in each hand as she stood in the open front doorway. “Don’t worry. I got it on video.”

Junie spun toward the hallway. “Where’s Dizzy? Is she up? I have to tell her about the chipmunk that stole my marshmallow!”

I crouched down to her level, brushing dirt off her cargo pants in the foyer. “She’s here, but she had a rough night. Let her rest a little more, okay? You can tell her all about camping when she wakes up.”

Junie’s face fell just enough to twist something in my chest, but she nodded. “Pancakes?”

“You go get the ingredients ready and I’ll be right there.”

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, squeezing tight. “Okay, Dad.”

Emmy’s eyes flicked to mine over Junie’s head, sharp as ever. Once Junie darted toward the kitchen, she asked quietly, “Is she okay?”

I stood back up and glanced down the hall toward my closed door, jaw working. “No,” I said, voice rough. “We went to the funeral home to get Violet’s ashes, and it finally hit her last night.”

“Shit,” Beckett murmured.

Emmy’s mouth pressed into a sad line, tears brimming in her eyes. “Anything we can do?”

I was ready to tell her no—that this was one of those storms we just had to weather—when a contractor’s truck pulled up in front of Violet’s house. Fresh cedar siding stacked in the bed, four guys in tool belts hopping out like this was just another day. Luke hopped out of his truck next to them, already getting his crew into motion.

Something sharp twisted low in my gut.

I looked at my sister, then Beckett and Jace.

“Yeah,” I said. “Round up everybody. Neighbors, teammates, the whole damn town if they’ll come. We’re finishing Vi’s house this week. All hands on deck, Linwood style.”

I couldn’t fix Daisy’s heart.

Couldn’t bring her sister back.

Couldn’t carry this grief for her.

But I could finish the one thing Violet left undone.

Two hours later Violet’s house looked like a home-improvement flash mob had invaded.

Shannon stood in the middle of the living room in paint-splattered jeans, hair in a messy knot, wielding a paint roller like a sword.

“Listen up, idiots!” she bellowed. “We are turning this house into a home today, so follow my color-coded system or I swear on my signed Metallica shirt I will end you.”

Beckett nudged Jace. “Eyes down, kid. She can smell fear.”

Jace gulped. “I’m not—oh shit, she’s looking right at me.”

“Mop Top and Has-Been”—Shannon pointed at Beckett and Jace—“you’re painting the living room walls. If I see a drip I will make you start over.”

Jace lifted the lid off the can, then frowned. “This is pink.”

“It’s coral. Happiness in pigment form,” Shannon snapped, then made a face like she was disgusted by the idea. “Roll it or perish.”

Luke was already on a ladder in the kitchen, swapping out the ugly boob lights for matte-black pendants. “Hey, Ty! Can you send a runner to the store for me? We need new lightbulbs pretty much everywhere.”

I grabbed my phone to text Delgado who was already on his way to the hardware store for more rollers. “On it.”