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I turn back to my family as it dawns on me that my nephew is absent from breakfast this morning. “Where is James today?”

Rubbing my mother’s shoulder, my father clears his throat. “James joined band so he has early morning practices before school starts.”

Blair nods. “It’s not every day, but he also has to practice at home, and Huddy Boy is just loving it.” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice.

“What instrument did he choose?” Nora interjects.

Blair grins. “The drums.”

Nora’s eyes widen. “Oh no.”

Blair nods slowly as her grin spreads. “Oh, yes.”

“It’s just the snare drum for now, but eventually he says he wants a whole set, so we were thinking of getting him one for Christmas,” my mother adds. “But don’t tell him, of course.”

Blair raises her hand mockingly. “Uh, can you make sure to record Hudson’s reaction to that gift though, please? Especially if I’m on shift on Christmas and miss it.”

My father rolls his eyes. “Maybe I’ll make sure you work that day just so you can’t be here to add to your brother’s torture.”

“Hey. He’s the one that always starts it.”

“And you like to finish it and start more shit later to get back at him,” my mother replies. “So, you’re just as guilty.”

Of the five of us, Hudson and Blair are definitely the most alike, so I think that’s why they argue so much. Headstrong, stubborn, and incapable of asking for help.

My brother had my nephew eleven years ago with his ex-wife. They divorced when James was two, and she wasn’t very present in his life after that. Then she gave up her custody rights before moving to Florida with her new husband about five years ago. Since Katie chose not to be present in James’s life, my brother has been a single dad. The rest of us help where we can, but you can tell that it wears on him a lot. Between raising James, coaching the college football team, and teaching physical education, he’s under a lot of pressure—and it shows.

Maybe my mother is right. He needs a release.

It would definitely help with his grumpiness.

It certainly helps with mine.

“Before I forget, I booked our camping spots for the end of October,” my mother interjects, her tone far cheerier than when she chastised Blair seconds ago.

Blair coughs dramatically before rubbing her throat. “Oh no. I—I think I’m coming down with something and won’t be able to make it.”

Nora arches a brow. “Almost two months early? I’m sure you’ll be fine by then.”

Blair rubs the center of her chest. “No, I think it’s really contagious.”

“Well, wear a mask then,” my mother replies. “You’re going. You know the only acceptable excuse for not attending our family camping trips is being hospitalized—or dead.”

Blair turns to me. “Lennon, quick. I need you to tell me a disease I can catch that isn’t serious enough to kill me but could put me in the hospital.”

“Do your own research. I need to get to class.” Rolling my eyes, I move to stand and catch a whiff of those eggs again. Grimacing, I place my hand on my stomach.

My mother watches me carefully. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know. My stomach is just upset this morning.”

“Did you drink coffee on an empty stomach?” Nora asks. “That usually will make mine turn.”

I think back to how fast I ran out of the motel room this morning, not even bothering to stop for a cup on the way here.

“Yeah, that must be it.” The lie rolls off of my tongue, but it doesn’t make me feel any less anxious.

“Will I see you around the campus today?” my mother asks.