Page 162 of The Right Kind of Wrong

She approached her sister’s SUV at the same time Maisie threw open the front door, waving through the screen. “They’re here,” Maisie yelled into the house, presumably to Monroe.

A second later, Monroe appeared behind Maisie, a gentle hand on her niece’s shoulder.

Blake’s heart felt so full, watching the two of them. Her people.

She turned toward her other people, only for Amelia and Chase to race by her with a wave and a “Hi, Aunt Blake,” screamed in unison.

Grace was wrangling Axel, her youngest, from his booster seat. He favored the Bettencourt side of the family, with his light brown eyes, dark hair, and soft features.

God, she just wanted to squeeze his chubby cheeks.

Blake approached slowly, but the second that Axel noticed her, he extended his arms. “Aunt Blakey,” he yelled, jumping bravely down from the floor of the car and running into her arms. “I missed ya,” he said as she scooped him up and gave him a hug.

He was small for his age, and he already wore a pair of those tiny glasses that had the strap around his head to keep them secured.

She ran her fingers through his soft, short hair. “I missed you too, buddy. How was your day?”

“Good,” he said, already starting to squirm. “Played and stuff.”

Grace had finally excavated the large bag from the middle of the second row of seats, where it had been wedged in between the booster seat for Chance and the car seat for Axel. “I feel like I’m going to start walking with a limp,” she said, hefting the bag onto her shoulder.

Blake and her sister had texted a little over the weekend. Nothing serious. Not like the bombs they’d dropped on one another last week.

Definitely nothing else about the issues that Grace had been having with Bill. Or how overwhelmed she had been feeling.

Maybe it was actually better that the two of them would have a brief moment together, away from everyone else.

“So . . .” Blake deposited Axel on his feet, and she quickly reached for his hand. They all started walking slowly toward the house. “It's probably nice to have two out of three of them in school now. How’s Chance doing with the change?”

Besides Maisie being more tired in the evenings, it was so far, so good with her first week of kindergarten, and Blake didn’t take that for granted.

When Amelia had started school, she’d been almost inconsolable at being away from her mom every day. Amelia had cried, and then Grace had cried to Blake about how difficult it had been to walk away from her in the mornings, tears streaming down her face.

It had not been an easy adjustment, to say the least, and Blake hoped that wasn’t the case for Chance.

“He’s always been the most sensitive of my kids. After what it was like with Amelia, I’ll be honest, I was terrified over Monday. I don’t think I slept more than a few hours, just waiting for there to be some kind of awful meltdown when I tried to take him.”

On the first day of school, though, when they had run into her sister, Amelia had given her aunt a hug and then scampered off to find her friends. “Third grade is a big deal,” she’d told Blake before saying goodbye.

She’d nodded and agreed, watching her niece go.

Chance had stuck close to Grace, though he wasn’t nearly as outwardly emotional as Amelia had been. Blake could tell, though, that he was scared.

She had already heard the comments that Bill made about his oldest son. That he was a sissy whenever he cried. That he needed to start playing some sports, like Bill had, regardless of the fact that Chance hadn’t expressed an interest in them so far.

And then, in a moment that had made Blake so proud of both Maisie (and Monroe), Maisie had walked up to Chance and stuck out her little hand. “I’m Maisie,” she’d said.

That was all it had taken for Chance’s eyes to brighten.

Three days later, Maisie and Chance were still going strong.

Which, as Blake knew from Amelia, was no small feat sometimes.

When they reached the house, Blake opened the screen door so that Grace could go in first. “You can put the bag in here or bring it outside, whichever you prefer.”

Grace dropped the bag to the side of the door. “Hopefully, none of it will be needed.”

“Mama brought my pull-ups,” Axel said proudly.