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I almost choked on the bitter brew. “I’m not. In fact, I’m so over Dial Birch, I don’t care who she keeps time with.” My voice was several octaves higher than normal.

“Dial is the litmus test you measure all other women by.”

“No, Dial is one of a kind. These other women can’t compare where they don’t compete.” I was doing a piss-poor job of convincing my sister I was unbothered.

“Listen to yourself. One minute you’re claiming to be so over her, and the next you’re extolling her virtues.”

“She’s the mother of my child. So there’s a soft spot.”

“In your head.” She giggled, getting pleasure out of landing a joke at my expense. “I don’t get you two. It’s so obvious you’re both into each other.”

“You’re not a good judge of character. Exhibit A, Chap, and exhibit B, Darla.”

“There were extenuating circumstances. But I see the way Dial looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching.”

“Oh yeah, and how’s that?” I wanted to believe it wasn’t just my imagination. But with each passing day it felt like I was fighting alone.

“Like she wants to climb on top and take a ride.” Fancy awkwardly swung her hips to music only she could hear.

“I’ve known Dial damn near my whole life, and we can’t seem to get it right. It’s not bad timing; it’s not on account of us being young. I think maybe we just don’t fit anymore. Just because you want a thing, doesn’t mean you get it.”

Last night when I was drinking, I was also thinking, and Dial had made some points. I’d paused my personal life, hoping someday we’d get back together. Even when I did have a girlfriend, I wasn’t all in, and the women I dated could tell. It wasn’t fair to them, and it wasn’t fair to me. I wanted all the same things Dial did, a wife, maybe some more kids. And ultimately, love came with challenges. I would walk through fire for her, but I wasn’t certain she’d be waiting for me on the other side. I needed to move on—not because Dial asked me to, but because if I didn’t, I’d grow into the type of man left only with a fistful of regret at the end of his life.

“So, you’re just gonna give up? No, I won’t accept it. Dial and you are everything. Now, I don’t know what the fuck happened when I left, but there’s still love there. And the two of you are either too dumb or too scared to admit it.”

“I’m not going to pretend like Dial didn’t leave a mark, but she has set some very clear boundaries, and this time I’m gonna respect them.”

“I bet if we checked the sole of your shoe it would say, If lost, please return to Dial Birch of Hume, Tennessee.”

“Funny, I’m barely awake and you have an entire comedy routine.”

Fancy adjusted her lopsided, messy bun. “Have you told her how you feel? I mean sat down and really hashed it all out. Told her all the things us women like to hear. I bet if you did, she’d—”

“Francesca, stop.” My tone let her know I was two seconds away from putting her out. I was so tired of talking about Dial. She invaded all of my thoughts. The last thing I wanted to do was workshop this particular problem with my baby sister. It wasn’t like I didn’t spend my nights moving moments in my life around like Tetris pieces in the hopes that maybe I could make us fit. I knew I was a lost cause; I knew I was pussy whipped; I was already the butt of everyone’s jokes. Poor, stupid Oz, who can’t get over his ex.

“Then let me set you up.”

“Wait, one minute you’re telling me to keep pursuing Dial, and the next you want to fix me up?”

Fancy jerked a lazy shoulder. “If you’re truly ready to move on, then you know what they say—the best way to get over an ex is to find someone new to lie under.”

“Is that how it worked with you and Edison?”

Fancy smirked but ignored my observation. “I’m serious. You are still very much a catch. You have a good-paying job, you’re funny, and you’re a loverboy.”

“You must have a death wish. Because if Dial finds out you’re playing matchmaker, you two will come to blows.”

“Why would Dial care if you guys are over?” She pointed at me as if she had just cracked the case. “You know that saying—if you chuck something in the river thinking you’re never gonna see it again, but then it eventually ends up washing up on the riverbank behind your house, well then, it’s yours forever.”

“These motivational quotes be kicking your ass. I can find my own dates, thank you. I have an amazing smile, natural, no braces. And for a man whose nose has been broken twice, it kinda adds to my handsome features. And then there’s the gun show…” I flexed to remind Fancy what I was working with.

“Well, if you’re looking to make a splash with a new lady, my housewarming party would be just the place.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I opened a cabinet and pulled out a cast-iron skillet. “Now, are you staying for breakfast or nah?

Today was the official start of the Birch Farm renovations. We’d been talking about this for months, so to finally be able to make shit shake was exciting. Most of the work would be restricted to nights and weekends, since we all had day jobs. It was midmorning on Saturday, and Edison and I were out back trying to read Cyrus’s hand-drawn plans.

“What the fuck is this?” I asked.