My first order of business upon returning from the honeymoon was Quinn. I’d flaked on that kid more times than I cared to admit, so there was no way I wasn’t keeping my word to him this time around. We made plans to meet at our parents’ house the following day. Not only could I work with Quinn on his songs, but a visit would satisfy my parents, who were eager to hear about the honeymoon.

Casey and I had been on the road for only fifteen minutes when she said, “Can we stop for a cup of coffee?”

“Like in the store?” I asked. Was she crazy?

“Yeah, Jake, like normal people do. Sit inside and sip some coffee. Is that so weird?”

I didn’t immediately respond because, yeah, it was a tad weird. I was a goddamn rock star. I didn’t just go into coffee shops and sip coffee. Not anymore, at least. Not since my popularity exploded last year and I had to have a bodyguard with me just about everywhere I went nowadays. Not that he was with us today. I hadn’t thought I needed him. We were just going to my parents’ house, where the only person I needed protection from was my father and his exploding nutsack stories.

“Never mind,” she sighed. “I’ll just hop out and get it for us.”

The disappointment in her voice surprised me. We males weren’t always good at picking up on such social cues, and I was no exception, but Casey definitely appeared let down by the fact that I didn’t want to get mauled at the coffee shop.

“Am I missing something here? If you wanted to go for coffee, why didn’t you tell me before you left? I would have had Vadim come with us.”

A tempered laugh escaped her, but again, I sensed something was off. My gut was telling me she didn’t find any of this funny.

“Sometimes…” she began, before abruptly stopping herself.

I waited for the rest of her sentence but it never came. “Sometimes what? Talk to me, Case.”

“Sometimes I wish we could be like other couples and take a walk through the park or sit down for a cup of coffee, is all… and not with Vadim tagging along. He’s like the Terminator, Jake. He scares people.”

“That’s the point of a bodyguard.”

“Well, I don’t like it. And I don’t like him being a third wheel. Having a homicidal cyborg along everywhere we go kills the romantic vibe. Why can’t it be like our honeymoon all the time? No one bothered us at the resort.”

“Because everyone paid handsomely not to. When you’re rich, you have to pretend you don’t care about famous people. It’s in the handbook. Look it up.”

Casey glanced over at me and her face softened, the stress lines gone. She responded coyly. “Coffee shop patrons are a sophisticated bunch. My bet is they won’t care either.”

“That’s highly doubtful, but I’ll tell you what, if you don’t mind standing around for an hour while I sign autographs and take pictures, then why the hell not?”

“Really?” she perked up.

No. The last thing I wanted to do was fake happiness for a bunch of strangers. But if it made Casey happy, and proved my point in the process, then I supposed it was a win-win. “Sure. Okay. Let’s get coffee.”

Casey sat back in her seat, her arms crossed in front of her, a smug smile suddenly appearing on her face. Wait a minute! Had I just been conned?

“Casey?” I asked, still not believing that my beloved was so shrewd.

“Yes?” she answered in the sweetest, most affecting voice.

“You just played me like a deck of cards, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sweetie, I sure did.”

I parked the Jeep out in front of a Starbucks and turned to my wife. Her eyes sparkled in amusement. I shook my head. If she wanted to play – well, then, game on.

I jumped out and waited for her on the curb. Instead of trying to cover up with a cap or sunglasses, I decided to go au natural. I typically hated being gaped and gawked at, but today I welcomed it. Let’s just see how sophisticated her coffee crusaders were. There was no doubt in my mind that in a matter of seconds, my line would be longer than the one for a cup of joe. That would teach her.

Offering up my hand, Casey playfully slapped hers into mine and began to swing it like we were two six-year-old girls. Oh, she was good. She thought she could shame me into a second-place finish. But that’s not how this little coffee break was going to play out. I would not allow her to get the upper hand in this game of ours… at least not without a fight.

The door opened with a swoosh of air, carrying the backdraft of the flavorful scent of coffee out onto the sidewalk, beckoning others to the holy land. I kept my head held high, making eye contact with other patrons as we took our place in line. Jaws began to drop all over the coffee shop. It was only a matter of time now.

Throwing my arm over Casey’s shoulder, I dipped into her neck, giving it a little nibble for the fun of it. Teaching her a lesson didn’t have to be boring. If done properly, learning could be beneficial for all. Casey reveled in the show I was putting on for her benefit.

Whispering in my ear, she said, “You’re absolutely delectable right now, aren’t you?”

I shook my head at her in disappointment. She wasn’t supposed to be liking this. And where the hell were my selfie takers? No one was bothering us. This was ridiculous. Who was I going to have to screw in order to get a little fan girl gushing?

When we arrived at the cashier after several minutes, the middle-aged woman behind the counter stared at me, her face flushed and her eyes all aglow. Here we go. She was about to blow. Finally. Jesus.

“What can I get for you two?” she asked, looking between Casey and me. “And, just so you know, your drinks were already paid for.”

“What? No, that’s not necessary,” I replied, looking around at all the patrons waiting on their drinks. Every single person in the place was staring in our direction. “Who paid for us?”

“Well, you had multiple offers, but the gentleman over there was first in line when you came in, so he got the honors.”

The honors? It’s not that people didn’t offer to buy me stuff all the time, but this was different. This wasn’t the typical celebrity stuff. No, there was definitely something more taking place here

“What you two did for that poor man, wow, so brave,” the cashier said, nearly misting up as she spoke. “There just aren’t enough good people like you in the world.”

Casey and I blinked back our surprise. Tony and his exaggerated rescue video, the one he’d spliced together to feature only the good parts, was certainly making the rounds on the Internet. My bar buddy had been nowhere near drowning when we’d come upon him in the water that day. The life vest clinging to his bulky curves was holding up nicely in the waves and would have kept him afloat long enough for someone else to find him, yet Tony had modified the truth to make us look like heroes.

“Just own it,” Casey said, behind her smiling teeth.

And then they came, flocking to us from all directions, offering up handshakes and good wishes on our wedding. Typically when fans rushed me, Casey was cast aside like an afterthought, but not today. This time she was front and center and loving every second of it. Thanks to Tony’s video, I wasn’t the only famous one in our relationship. Not when the girl in the yellow bikini was in the house.

* * *

As we waited for the security gates to open into my parents’ house, Emma pulled up beside us.

“Well, if it isn’t our very own superheroes,” she said. “Very cool rescue at sea.”

“It was nowhere near that cool in person,” I answered.

“Deny all you want, but Casey’s bikini has its own Instagram account.”

“HA!” Casey blurted out, high-fiving me. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“You were looking good, girl,” my sister complimented Casey.

“Are you guys just getting here? I though we were going to be late.”

I glanced into her car for Finn but found only an empty passenger seat. Maybe she was referring to her and the baby, but then she rolled down the window to reveal Finn sitting in the backseat with Indiana.

“Emma?” I chastised her. “You don’t even allow him in the front seat?”

“What?” My sister shrugged. “The baby was crying.”

“Dude, I swear,” I said, eyeing Finn in the back. “She might as well strap you in to your very own big boy seat.”

Finn flipped me off with a smirk stamped on his face.

The gate opened, and we drove up to the house. Emma honked to let our parents know we were all there. They came out, followed by Grace and a tall, spiky-haired kid I’d never seen before. Glancing over at Emma, she read my mind and whispered, “Boyfriend.”

“No,” I gasped. Not Grace! “She’s too young for a boyfriend.”

“She’s seventeen.”

“Seriously?” I asked in surprise, as I started doing the math in my head. Damn. Emma was right. Grace was actually seventeen. Who knew? I scanned the boyfriend. I didn’t like him on principle alone. “What’s with the blue hair?”

“I don’t know. I assume he dyed it.”

“Really?” I asked, all sarcasm. “He didn’t come out of the womb that way?”

Emma turned off her engine. “Since when are you an overprotective brother?”

“Since she started dating that. Why would he want to spike his hair all over his head? He looks like a sea urchin.”

My sister rolled her eyes. “He looks worse than he actually is.”

“Oh, really? Would you let him hold your baby?”

Emma recoiled. “Are you crazy?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Finn opened her door and offered his hand. Climbing out, she pulled him to her and kissed him. Emma wasn’t one to openly flaunt her relationship, but there had definitely been a change in her since meeting Finn and giving birth to Indiana. She smiled with her eyes now, something I hadn’t seen her do since she was a child. I wondered if the difference was only due to Finn and the baby or if she’d been seeking professional help. She’d mentioned the idea to me once, but we’d never discussed it since. Now I was left wondering if therapy had helped lift the weight off her shoulders.

Damn, I was jealous. Why hadn’t therapy had the same affect on me? Probably because I’d never really given it the chance to work. At the first sign of strife, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. And now I was being tormented by my demons while she was moving forward with the sunniest of dispositions. If Emma, the most inflexible person I knew, could find peace and a renewed sense of calm, maybe I needed to reevaluate my own progress. The nightmares were getting more intense, and I was left trying to stay a step ahead of something that was so much bigger than I was. Eventually I’d be swallowed up.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” Casey asked, following my gaze. She too was watching Emma and Finn’s public display of affection, and it was making her swoon.

“Sure, if you like that sort of thing. Are you ready to meet the other adorable couple?” I asked looking in the direction of Grace and her blue-haired boyfriend. “This ought to be fun.”

“Be nice,” Casey warned.

“Aren’t I always?”

“Um… might I remind you that you wanted to let Tony drown? So no, not always.”

We joined Emma and Finn and walked to the porch. There was no need for either of them to get Indiana out of the back of their car as my dad had already extracted his favorite human from her car seat, and the two disappeared through the front door.

“I guess we’ll see Dad later.” I nodded my head in his direction.

“Oh, you’ll see him again,” Emma confirmed. “As soon as Indiana poops, throws up, or cries, he’s outta there.”

After exchanging niceties with my mother, I grabbed my little sister and wrapped her in a protective embrace.

“Someone’s been holding out,” I whispered in her ear.

“Someone hasn’t been home in months,” she fired back, before pulling her boyfriend closer and saying, “This is Rory.”

He stepped up to Casey and me, looking terrified. Good. That’s just how I wanted him.

“Hi,” Rory said, his voice cracking.

Was he still going through puberty? Jesus, if that were the case, this kid was on track to be seven feet tall.

“It’s really nice to meet you both. Congratulations on your wedding.”

When I didn’t make an immediate move to take his outstretched hand, Casey stepped in and took it, but not before giving me a warning glare. “It’s nice to meet you too, Rory. If Grace had told me she had a boyfriend I would have added you to the guest list.”

“Oh, well, we haven’t been dating long, so it would’ve felt weird to impose on a family event.”

At least he had that much sense. “So, Rory, is it?” I spoke up for the first time. “It’s weird that Grace has never mentioned you.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t mention you to me either. At least not until a couple of weeks ago.”

Really? Huh. Now this was interesting information. Gracie stood between us looking about ready to die. How did this kid not know she was my sister? Everyone at her school knew. Unless… “Wait, you two don’t go the same school?”

Mom shifted uncomfortably, and Grace looked out over the horizon.

“No,” Rory hesitated. “We don’t.”

What exactly was happening here? It was obvious there was something they weren’t telling me. In fact, there was something about this kid that didn’t make sense at all. He wasn’t the typical Southern California teen that filled Grace’s wealthy suburban high school. Where had she met this guy?

Almost like he could read my thoughts, Rory tipped his head up, making eye contact with me for the first time, and what I saw in his gave me pause. The average person might miss it but I knew that look well. I saw it everyday in my own reflection in the mirror. Shame.

Taken aback, I averted my eyes and cleared my throat. “Well, it’s good meeting you, Rory,” I said, offering my hand to him. I no longer wanted to bust his balls, as I was certain someone else had already beaten me to the punch.

* * *

Quinn and I spent the next two hours working on his songs. It didn’t take much to point him in the right direction and fix some of the issues he’d been having. I felt bad that it had taken me this long when it was so little effort on my part to help him out. Most surprisingly about the time I spent with him was that we worked so well together. There was no animosity between us at all. When it came to music, Quinn and I spoke the same language.

The talent was there, yet Quinn had somehow stalled and was just spinning around in place. What was he waiting for? God, I hoped it wasn’t me.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened with that band? They seemed legit.”

“They were.” Quinn nodded, studying his hands and looking conflicted. “But it wasn’t me they wanted. It was my… uh, how should I put this … my connections.”

And by ‘connections,’ he meant me. I wasn’t sure what had gone down, but it was pretty clear he’d been used, and that was never a good feeling. “That’s shitty. Sorry.”

Quinn watched me for a moment, almost like he was sizing me up to see if he could trust me. I must have passed because he started talking. “I came into it thinking they wanted a lead singer and that I was going to be, you know, a part of the group, but they weren’t interested in my songs and I mostly just sang backup and played guitar. Then they started badgering me about your tour and were pressuring me to ask you. Anyway, when I couldn’t deliver…” Quinn’s voice trailed off.

“Oh,” I shifted, uncomfortably. These were the stories I never heard from my siblings, but it couldn’t have been easy for them to navigate their way through life under my very invasive fame. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“That kind of thing happens to you a lot?”

Quinn looked away, but not before I saw the pained expression on his face. “Enough that I should have been smarter. I’m usually pretty good at knowing when people are using me, but I guess I just wanted it too bad to really trust my gut.”

It occurred to me then that Grace and Quinn had lived a totally different childhood than the rest of us. Their paths had been dictated by tragedy. There were no early morning trips to the beach with Dad, no playing outside until the light of day faded to dusk, and no real track they could travel on that didn’t have my train rolling over it.

“I’ve never really thought much about how my fame affects you and Grace.”

“It’s not that, Jake. I love that you’re my brother. I’m so proud of you. It’s just…” Quinn cleared his voice, his brows furrowed in frustration. “People ask me questions about you all the time, and I have to make stuff up because I don’t know the answers. I don’t know you at all. Not one little thing.”

I sat there quietly, letting his words sink in. Quinn was right. We knew nothing at all about each other. I couldn’t tell you what he liked or didn’t like. I didn’t know if he had a girlfriend, what his favorite sports team was, or even if he’d been a good student while still in high school. Damn, how had we drifted so far apart that we weren’t even connected as brothers at all? And the worst part was I knew it was my fault. I had done this to us.

“Ask me something. Anything,” I blurted out without thinking about the consequences. Would I even be able to deliver? Did I have a choice? I was ground zero in this scenario, so our relationship needed to start with me.

“Okay,” he said, blinking back his surprise by my offer. “What’s your favorite movie?”

I tipped my head back, brows raised in surprise. “You can ask me anything and that’s your question?”

“Well, I have thousands of questions, but I figured I’d better start small.”

“21 Jump Street. You?”

“Same.” He nodded.

“I’ve got one,” I said. “If you can eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Potatoes.”

“Whoa.” I kicked back in my chair. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

“Nope,” he said, laughing. “Think about it. Potatoes are the most versatile food there is. Breakfast? Hash browns. Lunch? French fries. Dinner? Baked or scalloped. Snack? Potato chips. Getting shit-faced with friends? Vodka. See, unlimited possibilities.”

“Good god. That was better than a persuasive essay. Now I’m reevaluating my choice.”

“I know what your answer would be,” Quinn said, predicting my favorite food. “Tri-tip.”

“Yep.” I nodded. “What’s with the vodka?”

“You mean how it relates to potatoes, or if I’m drinking it with friends?”

“Both.”

“Vodka’s made from potatoes, and no, I don’t get shit-faced with friends on a regular basis. I don’t have time for that crap. I have a plan for my future.”

“I see that,” I said.

The grit I hadn’t given him credit for during my bachelor party was on full display today. This kid had drive and talent… a deadly combination.

“Okay, Jake, I have another question. If you could take one thing to a deserted island, what would you take?”

“That’s easy. Casey. What about you?”

“My guitar.”

“Obviously you don’t have a girlfriend, then.”

“No,” he laughed. “But, honestly, I haven’t met a girl I like more than my guitar anyway.”

“Someday,” I said.

“Yeah, someday,” he replied, but he didn’t seem all that convinced. He was silent a moment before looking up at me cautiously. “Okay, so you said anything, right?”

“I did. Are you going to make me regret it?”

“Maybe. There’s something I’ve wondered about for a long time.”

Yeah. I was definitely going to regret it, whatever the question was.

“After you came home, you never talked to any of us, but sometimes I’d hear you whispering when you didn’t think anyone was around. One time I snuck in and listened. You were saying the same five names over and over. Jack, Anton, Rex, Wilson, and Felix. Who are they? And why were you saying their names?”

I sat there dumbfounded. Never in a million years was I expecting that question. I actually had no memory of repeating their names; but then, that time after arriving home from the hospital had been pretty torturous. My mind wasn’t right at all.

“Is that too personal?” he asked.

“No, it’s just… I’ve never told anyone about them before. Do you promise to keep this between us?”

Quinn leaned in, his voice a breathy whisper of intrigue. “I promise.”

“Do you know how many victims Ray had, how many they dug up?”

“Twelve, right?”

“That’s the official count. Yes. But that’s not how many victims there were.”

“Really?” His eyes had doubled in size at this piece of information.

“There were more… five, to be exact.”

“Jack, Anton, Rex, Wilson, and Felix,” Quinn said.

I nodded.

“How do you know their names?”

I didn’t answer for the longest time because I wasn’t sure how. Finally I tapped my finger to my temple and answered. “They live in my head, and no matter how hard I try to get them out, they never leave.”

That turned out to be the end of our anything-goes question game. I’d revealed more than I wanted to and had given him more than he’d bargained for.

I stood up abruptly. “I’ve got to get back to Casey.”

Quinn, still staring at me wide-eyed and open-mouthed, finally got his wits about him and said, “Yeah, okay,”

Heading for the door, I turned when Quinn called my name. “Jake?”

“What?”

He fidgeted with his guitar. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

I stared at him a moment before replying, “And I could have lied.”

Why hadn’t I lied? It would have been so easy to tell him I couldn’t remember, but instead I admitted to Quinn my deepest and darkest secret. Not only did I divulge they existed but also that these wayward ghosts lived inside my head. Crazy much? I could only imagine what was going through Quinn’s mind. No doubt the poor kid hadn’t expected such honesty from me. He probably thought I was insane because that’s how it sounded to my own ears. At least maybe now he understood why I was emotionally unavailable to him. There were just too many damn people competing for my time.

* * *

Indiana must have taken a giant doo-doo in her pants, because when I came out of the music room, my father was baby-free and waiting for me.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” my father asked. The wrinkles in his forehead and the serious tone of his voice instantly put me on edge. Were he and mom getting a divorce? Had he gone bankrupt from a previously undetected gambling problem?

“Everything okay?”

My father nodded, but it was a solemn gesture. Oh, no. What was wrong? Could it be a death in the family? Cancer?

“I think I owe you an apology,” he finally said.

An apology? I almost had a panic attack for an apology?

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“Your pre-wedding freak out. I can’t help but think it was because of the honeybee story.”

“It had nothing to do with the damn honeybee. And, it wasn’t a freak out. I just wanted to talk to Casey.”

“I hope you know I was just joking around. Marriage is not like honeybee sex at all. At least not mine. I mean sex with your mom is…”

“Okay!” I interrupted before my ears heard something that couldn’t be reversed. If I thought I had nightmares now… “Move on.”

“Right. Anyway, all I’m saying is, your mom and I have a great relationship. In fact, you and Casey remind me of us when we were younger. That passion and chemistry you have for each other… that was what it was like for us, and still is to a lesser extent. I mean, we’re not as young and nubile as we once were, but we can still work up a sweat, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded grimly. Yes, I got the meaning loud and clear. I motioned with my hands for him to speed up.

“Anyway, we’ve been through so much together over the years, and at times, it would have been easier to just call it quits – but then I’d remember that twenty-year-old girl I met at the beach, all legs and breasts. Oh, man, Jake, your mom was… whoa… sexy as all hell.”

“Dad, I’m serious. I’m going to leave unless you can get to your point without further references to my mother’s body parts. You do have a point, don’t you?”

“Relax. I do. See, I joke around about your mom being a drill sergeant and all, but the truth is, I want her to take control. The less I have to think about at home, the better. If she’s running the show, where am I? Relaxing. I’m not sure if you realize this, but we McKallister men come from a long and proud line of marital wimps. We do what we’re told and we’re happier for it. When your mom is happy, I’m happy. Get it?”

“Okay, so, then why can’t she be happy when you’re happy?”

“Oh, no,” he said, appearing completely shocked by my ignorance. “It doesn’t work in reverse.”

I laughed. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Am I? In three generations, not one McKallister man has divorced. You tell me who’s crazy.”

* * *

I found my way to the kitchen, where Mom was pulling condiments out of the refrigerator. I’d been hoping to catch her alone so I could get the scoop on Grace’s boyfriend.

“So what’s with this Rory kid?” I asked, plopping myself down into a counter stool.

Like earlier on the front porch, my mother stiffened. Now I was more curious than ever. She walked around the counter and took a seat beside me.

“You know last year when I asked you to donate to an organization that helps foster kids who’ve aged out of the system?”

I wrote a lot of checks. Remembering specifics wasn’t normally a requirement. “Not really, but go on.”

“Well, it was used to help purchase a 26-unit apartment complex that we then turned into a living facility for young adults who’ve bounced around the system for years until they hit the age of eighteen and were forced out on the street. Most of these kids don’t have any survival skills because they’ve never had anyone to teach them. Anyway, I volunteer there, and it’s where I met Rory. I know he looks a little edgy, but he’s really a wonderful kid.”

Remembering that look in his eyes, I said, “That may be true, but something bad has happened to him.”

Mom’s forehead furrowed. She seemed genuinely surprised by my assessment. “Why would you say that?”

“I can spot an abused kid a mile away.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. What are the signs?”

“It’s nothing you can outwardly spot. It’s just a feeling. It comes down to his body language and that look in his eye.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

“So, what happened to him?”

“I don’t know. They don’t tell me anything about the kids’ histories. I’m just a volunteer and not privy to their files. I help them learn life skills, help them with their studies if they’re going for their GED or are in community college.”

“I didn’t know you did that.”

“Well, I just wanted to give back a little. I have some experience dealing with kids who have been through traumatic experiences, and most of these foster youth have had rough experiences, even if it’s just being bounced around all their lives.”

“How old is Rory?”

“Quinn’s age. Eighteen, almost nineteen. Rory and I actually became friends a while back. He’s a drummer; quite talented, actually. That’s what caught my eye about him in the first place. Somehow he reminded me of you.”

“I’m still not understanding how Grace fits into this picture.”

“She’s been volunteering with me too. At first it was just to bolster her college application, but then she became very invested in the lives of these young adults and was making friends with them. One in particular stood out.”

“He’s the total opposite of what I’d picture for her. I mean, he looks like a punk rocker, and Grace is more a preppy, frat-boy type of girl.”

“No, actually she’s not. Grace has changed quite a bit over the past year. She has a compassion for others that makes me so proud. Maybe they are an odd pairing looks-wise, but Rory’s actually very similar to her in personality. I can see why she likes him.”

“And it doesn’t worry you – them being together?”

“I’ll admit, at first I tried to dissuade her, but then I realized how hypocritical I was being. Here I am volunteering to help improve these kids’ lives, and I’m telling them they can do anything, be anything – but at the same time, thinking they aren’t good enough for my daughter? What kind of message am I sending to Grace if I don’t allow her to see Rory when his only visible fault is the messed up childhood that he had no control over? And besides, compared to the other two boys that your sister dated, Rory is a dream come true.”

I understood what she was saying, but something about Rory still troubled me. “All I’m saying is, be cautious. You don’t know what he’s been through. He might be more screwed up than you think.”

“Thankfully, Linda and Dave didn’t think the same way about you.”

I jerked my head up, gaping at my mother. Damn, that was brutal… but so undeniably true.

“Sorry… that was… not nice,” she said, hesitating between words. “I feel a little protective of him, I guess.”

“And I was being a hypocrite, so we’re even.”

The two of us sat there quietly for a few moments before she changed the subject. “Did Dad find you?”

“He did.”

“Everything good?”

“Mom, it wasn’t his story that caused the freak out, if that’s what you think. You know me well enough to know there’s a whole array of issues that could have been bothering me.”

“But you worked it out with Casey, right?” she asked, sounding hopeful but resigned that I rarely, if ever, worked things out.

“I mean, yeah. Sort of. We’re married.”

She nodded, examining the ketchup bottle. I knew she wanted to press for more information but decided against it. “Well, you and Casey look blissfully happy.”

“We are.”

The tension drained from her face and a twinkle shone in her eye. “I love seeing you like this.”

As if she’d heard her name being called, Casey entered from the backyard and slid into my arms so effortlessly that she felt like an extension of me.

“Speak of the devil…” Mom grinned.

“Uh-oh, what were you two discussing about me?”

“I only have good things to say about you, always.”

“Right back at you,” Casey said, smiling warmly at my mother. She then turned to me. “How was the session with Quinn?”

“Well, other than the fact that I learned what a douche I’ve been for the past twelve years, we had a very productive session.”

“Did he tell you that?” Mom asked.

“No, I came to that conclusion all on my own.”

She laid her hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you finally talked to him. Quinn looks up to you so much. All he really wants is your approval.”

“So then, why didn’t you tell me I was acting like a chump?”

“Would you have listened?”

The lie would be yes, but we both knew the truth to be no. I shook my head smiling.

She laughed. “That’s why.”

A lingering side-effect of the loss of power I felt with Ray was that I needed to be in control of every situation. I never wanted to feel the way I did with him, helpless and afraid, so I sealed myself off to all but a trusted few. Somehow Quinn found himself outside of the bubble. That was going to change from this day forward.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Casey said, grabbing my jaw and kissing my lips. “Jake? Hardheaded? I find him to be very obedient.”

Mom laughed hard at that, as well she should. God knows she’d come face to face with my disobedience more times than she could ever count.

“I’m telling you,” my dad said, padding through the kitchen just in time to catch the tail end of our discussion. “It’s the McKallister man’s curse. Wimps, I tell you. The whole lot of us.”