Page 21 of After We Fall

His confident words cause a twinge of guilt. He always did try to protect me.

“Thanks, Jason,” I whisper.

“Have you given more thought to moving to Denver after the reception?”

More guilt. Each time he mentions his hope that I’ll join him in the Mile High City, I cringe. Jason and I aren’t related by blood. Only a terrible foster care system story. But for me, he’s the closest existing faction resembling family.

Other than Harlan and little Alex. And now Meredith. And possibly these exquisite tenants at the ranch who, against my will, make great efforts to plant themselves firmly in my heart.

But joining Jason in Denver has never felt right to me.

The studio door opens and the girls pour out of the room, their moans filling the hallway.

“I’ve got to go,” I say to Jason as I huddle closer to the wall. “Your invitation to the party will arrive in the mail soon. Make your reservations at the Broadmoor now because they book quickly for New Year’s Eve. I’ll talk to you later.”

Pulling my phone down, I press End before he can respond. As much as I love Jason, he requires boundaries. And I’m done discussing a move that isn’t going to happen.

“Everyone grab something to drink, then proceed to the living room for a family meeting.” I hold my arms out and usher the ladies down the hallway.

Family meeting. Not a term that comes naturally to me.

I resisted it at first. My adoptive family used the label for meetings filled with tension and ridiculously high expectations. But Meredith asks that we use the term to establish the desired culture of the house. Her gatherings are full of love, acceptance, and community. It helps the girls as they discover their place in this world. Or possibly it helps me as I discover my place in their world.

Whatever the case, I am grateful for the new definition of the concept.

After grabbing waters from the kitchen, the three girls enter the living room. Bianca and Tanya shuffle across the Berber carpet and plop themselves on the oversized blue denim couch. The wide black letters on Bianca’s baggy white T-shirt announce “Namaste in Bed Today.”

Finley, whose bouncing energy has been reduced to a slight spring, slumps into the remaining space on the middle couch cushion. “Penny Lady, why do we have to do yoga?”

“We’re learning to take care of ourselves.” Tanya mumbles the words I’ve said to the girls on repeated occasions.

“I can learn to take care of myself without playing the adult version of London Bridge.” Finley twists the cap off a water bottle. “Seriously. Downward dog?”

As Finley speaks, Luke enters the room with a swagger, wearing black cargo pants and a well-fitting black fleece with the LG Security logo on the left side of his chest. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of variety in Luke’s wardrobe, but I’m not complaining.

“I’m sorry I missed London Bridge,” he says.

A serene Natalie appears in the door, her doe-eyed focus on Luke. “Well, if you’re here next Saturday, you can join us.”

I bet he’s really sorry he missed London Bridge now. Natalie is a knockout.

Watching Natalie give the most minute attention to Luke makes my skin crawl. I clear my throat. “Thank you, Natalie,” I say, not masking my dismissive tone. “We will see you in a week.” I step toward the side table and straighten the coffee-table books, aligning each spine with precision.

“Thank you, ma’am”—Luke grins at Natalie, displaying a mangled coffee stir stick protruding halfway out of his mouth—“but I don’t do yoga.”

In spite of his newest annoying chew toy, the roguish appearance of his dark stubble and the potency emanating from his broad frame offer a vivid picture.

He belongs on a wrestling mat, not a yoga mat.

That isn’t correct. He belongs in the wilderness, wrestling a bear on the cool, loamy mat of the forest.

Natalie’s stunted smile puts a ding in her zen, but she still manages to exit the room, long limbs graceful, as if she’s floating on a cloud of tranquility.

I perch on the edge of one of the dark leather–covered Louis XV armchairs. It flanks the bricked fireplace with a matching partner on the other side. An empty-nest couple in the Springs donated this room of furniture to the ranch when they decided to update their existing home decor. Meredith accepts every donation with open arms. Therefore, each room in the house seems to be decorated or furnished as an homage to a different decade. This room bows down to the 1990s.

Luke studies me, his eyes traveling over the impeccable brown wool slacks that I paired with a thin ivory cashmere sweater. “Why are you all decked out?”

“I’m working.”