“How’d you call off the reporters? I heard they were hanging out in your yard,” Brenna says by way of greeting when I open the front door. “Broke up with what’s-his-name?”

Ignoring her comment, I open the door wider, indicating I want her to come in. She tries to get her digs in where she can but I refuse to acknowledge them. I’m just thankful we’re talking once more and she’s here. Remaining patient is the name of the game. It’s going to take a long time getting her to warm up to the idea of Will being a permanent part of my life.

“I have the magic touch,” I tell her, making her snort as she passes by. Mom’s still at the car, pulling something out of the backseat. I said I would make dinner, but I know Mom brought something. She always does. Hopefully it’s something sweet. She excels at any and every dessert she’s ever attempted to make.

“Seriously, Katherine. How did you get rid of them?” Brenna turns to face me, skepticism written all over her face. She crosses her arms in front of her chest in pure defensive mode. For what I can only assume is a multitude of reasons, she’s still mad at me. And I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve already told her I was sorry, but that clearly wasn’t good enough.

I’m starting to wonder if it was the right choice, inviting my mom and sister to dinner tonight . . . and having Will join us. He’s on his way now, and I’m praying he won’t feel like he entered a vipers’ nest when he gets here.

“Will knows a lawyer who helped us with the public statement,” I explain, not missing the way Brenna’s eyes narrow. The statement had been terse and to the point, without revealing too much information. We went out in front of my house and spoke to the few reporters who lingered there, reading the statement. Which merely stated that our friendship was of no one else’s concern, that we share a connection that we cannot deny, born from a horrific experience, and that we would have nothing else to say going forward.

In other words, none of your business, we’re going to do whatever we want, so leave us alone. I thought it was perfect, as did Will. The reporters were disappointed and tried to ask about a thousand questions all at once, but Will told them we wouldn’t talk and we went back into the house. Thankfully, they abandoned their post in front of my house almost as quickly as they established it.

What helped? A new local scandal erupted between an assistant district attorney and a female judge, who were immersed in an intense affair—until the judge’s angry husband waved his gun in the young DA’s face, threatening to kill him. Now the judge’s husband is in jail on attempted murder charges.

I’ve never been so grateful for someone else’s problems in all my life. I know it’s wrong to feel that way, but at least their story took the spotlight off ours.

“He knows a lawyer? So like what, he has one on hand whenever he needs one? Don’t you find that odd?” Brenna asks.

“What does she find odd?” Mom walks into the house at that very moment, breezing past me with a pie dish wrapped in aluminum foil in her hands. I shut and lock the door, peeking out the still-open window for any unfamiliar cars parked on the street. But I see nothing.

“Her friend has a lawyer. That’s how they handled that statement they issued a few days ago,” Brenna says, her arms falling at her sides. “What twenty-three-year-old guy has a lawyer? And who issues public statements?”

“We do,” I say quietly, wanting her to know that Will and I are a team. She’s not going to break us up with her wild speculation. I won’t let her.

“What, have you become a celebrity? You talk to Lisa Swanson a couple of times on national TV and now you need a publicist?”

“Brenna,” Mom says, her voice soft but firm. “Enough.”

She looks totally exasperated, but at least my sister goes quiet.

Leaving Brenna alone to stew in her anger, Mom and I go into the kitchen, where she puts the pie dish in the refrigerator before she proceeds to examine what I’ve prepared for dinner. She looks over the chicken dish I have baking in the oven, the rice cooking on the stovetop, and the salad that I was just finishing putting together.

“Looks good.” The smile on her face is falsely bright, straining at the edges, making my own fall. She doesn’t look happy and I hate that. Is she disappointed in my choosing Will? I’m starting to think it’s impossible to make everyone in my life happy. “When is your friend going to be here?”

I don’t even know exactly how I convinced them to come over for dinner. They were mad enough to tell me they couldn’t offer their support if I continued to see Will and they proved that by not reaching out to me. Not after the Lisa interview, not after the reveal that Will and I were in a relationship. They were eerily quiet. I had to be the one to finally reach out to them.

And Will was the one who encouraged me.

“You need your family,” he’d told me yet again late one night as he was holding me in his arms, in bed and tangled up in each other. “You can’t freeze them out.”

“But they’re freezing me out,” I’d started to protest, and he’d cut me off by kissing me.

A wonderful way to be cut off, but still, when we were finished, I’d been irritated.

“Just call them. Start with your mom first. Ask her to talk to Brenna for you. Or just reach out to her yourself. They’ll eventually come around.” He’d paused then, his expression downright fierce. “I refuse to stand in the way of your relationship with them.”

His words, the expression on his face, they touched me. I liked that he cared about my family relationships. He knew they were important to me and therefore, they were important to him, too.

“I’ll call her,” I’d promised.

And now here we are. I practically had to beg Mom to come for dinner and drag Brenna with her, but she finally, reluctantly, agreed. Now I just pray it goes well and no one screws anything up. Especially me.

Especially Will.

“He should be here in a few minutes,” I tell her as she grabs a few leftover cherry tomatoes and throws them into the salad. “Mom. I want to say thank you for coming over tonight.”

“Well, of course I wanted to come over. I missed you.” Her fake smile fades, replaced with an expression full of motherly concern. I’ve seen that look more times than I can count over the years. I’ve given this woman so much to worry about. “I don’t like fighting with you, Katherine. That’s never happened before.”

I wasn’t the one in a fight—she was. But I decide it’s best not to mention that little fact.

“I don’t, either. That’s why I’m glad you’re here, and that you brought Brenna with you, even though I know she’s still mad.” I hesitate, but decide to go for it. “I really need you guys to accept him, Mom. Please.” I go to her then and wrap my arms around her, and she does the same, squeezing me tight. I need this hug. I need the reassurance that my family will accept this man in my life and that we can all do this together. I need Will, but I also need Mom and Brenna.

Despite my sister’s hostility and still very obvious resentment, I know eventually she’ll get over it. She has to. We’re too close to let something like a guy come between us and hurt our relationship.

“Brenna’s in therapy,” Mom admits, her voice low as she speaks close to my ear. “She’s been going through some . . . stuff, and I’m afraid she’s been taking it out on you. And it sounds like she’s been taking it out on your—friend as well.”

“What do you mean she’s been going through some stuff? And why do you keep calling him my friend?” I withdraw from her embrace slightly, though I haven’t let her go. I don’t want to. It feels nice, being in my mother’s arms. I need her comfort right now. These last few weeks have been so incredibly stressful and confusing.

“What else can I call him? I must say, Katherine, that this entire situation is incredibly awkward.” She pulls away from me completely and starts roaming around my kitchen once more. I’m surprised she hasn’t started setting the table, just to keep herself occupied. “Please don’t say anything to your sister, but she and Mike broke up. She’s moved back in with me.”

I gape at her. “Are you serious?”

“Shh! Not so loud—she’ll hear you. But yes, I’m serious. Things haven’t been good between them for a while and they finally split up. She won’t give me too many details, but I do know she started going to a counselor a few weeks ago.” She taps her lips with her index finger, staring at my empty table. “Want me to set the table for dinner?”

Ah, there’s the mom I know and love. I knew that would happen. “That would be great, thanks. Let me get the plates.” I open the cupboard door as Mom goes to my silverware drawer. I grab the plates and set them on the counter before glancing toward the kitchen door. I think I heard Brenna go into the bathroom a few minutes ago, but I can’t be too sure. “Wow. I can’t believe it. I really thought they were going to get married.”

“So did I, but apparently that didn’t work out so well.” Mom shakes her head, looking toward the door as well before she sets the silverware on top of the stack of plates. “We shouldn’t talk about it. She’ll be in here any minute and I don’t want her thinking we’re whispering about her.”

“Why not? You two are always whispering about me.” Ouch. That came out way snottier than I meant it to.

“Katherine. Please. Don’t start that now.”

I keep my lips shut, thankful when Brenna walks into the kitchen and provides the proper distraction. I stow the salad in the fridge and clean up any mess that I left on the counter, while Brenna pours herself a glass of wine from the bottle she brought with her and Mom sets the table. Brenna’s going on about the kids in her class and how they drive her crazy, and all I can think about is that she’s alone. Not with her boyfriend, Michael, and living back at home with Mom.

It’s hard for me to wrap my head around it. I feel like I’ve come five steps forward in the last few months while Brenna’s dropped five steps back.

My phone vibrates and I pull it out of the back pocket of my jeans to find there’s a text from Will. Ethan. It says Ethan but I think Will. I’m ridiculous. Still a little confused, but trying to deal.

Smiling, I slip my phone back in my pocket and start for the living room.

“Where are you going?” Brenna calls after me.

“Will is almost here,” I tell her, surprised when I glance over my shoulder to find that she’s following me. I glance out the front window before I turn to face her. “What’s up?”

“So what are we supposed to call this guy, huh? Is it Ethan or Will?” She curls her upper lip and I hate the dread sinking like a stone in my stomach, taking my appetite, my happiness, and replacing it with worry.

“Brenna, please. Can we just . . . can you please approach meeting him with an open mind? I don’t want any trouble tonight. I want us all to get along. And I really think you’ll like him if you just allow yourself to get to know him.” I check the window once more, thankful he hasn’t pulled up yet.

“We’re worried, Katherine. You have to understand that,” Brenna says, her expression sincere, most of the hostility gone from her eyes. “This isn’t easy for us.”

“This isn’t easy for me, either. But please.” I pause, trying to hold back the swell of emotion threatening to overtake me. I don’t want to cry. Not now, in front of Brenna before Will gets here. He’ll know immediately something’s wrong. “Do this for me. He makes me happy.”

Brenna’s quiet and I am, too. I can hear Mom in the kitchen, humming as she preps the table. It’s a familiar sound, one that makes my heart ache for a simpler time, but I push that emotion aside.

I need to focus on the here and now. No more wishing for the past.

It’s over.

“I’ll try my best,” Brenna finally says, her tone reluctant.

Relief hits me so hard I almost sway on my feet. “Thank you.” I hear Will’s car then, pulling in front of my house, and I turn to see it parked in my driveway, Molly’s face peering out the backseat’s window as she barks, though I can’t hear her. I turn back to face Brenna, not able to contain the smile stretching my mouth wide. “That’s all I can ask for.”