Zoe arrives with a cross-stitched floral bag that looks like a thrift-store find.

“Nice bag.”

“Thanks. It was my granny’s. She used to bring it with her every time she visited. There were always at least three packs of cookies inside.” She holds it up to me. “It still smells like shortbread.”

I smile at the anecdote. She’s right; it smells like shortbread.

Zoe narrows her eyes, but she’s grinning. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“No! I think it’s cute.”

“You’re such a bad liar. Sorry, it’s not Louis Vuitton.”

Even when I don’t say anything, I come across as an arrogant prick. You’ve really got to figure out how to stop doing that, Tom.

“Let me take that for you.” I hold out my hand for the bag. “I’ve changed the sheets on Laura’s bed for you. I thought it would be best if you slept upstairs, near the kids.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“Sofa.”

She smiles at me. I can see the appreciation in her eyes. She hands me her bag, then follows me upstairs.

I’ve tried to make the room nice for her. The clean patchwork bedding smells like fabric softener, and I brought up the house plant from Laura’s kitchen to put on the bedside table.

Zoe smiles and points it out. “Is this the one from the kitchen windowsill?”

“You know this house too well. I was trying to make the room homier for you. I thought a flower might do the trick.”

“Thank you. That’s really sweet.”

“You hate it, don’t you? I know I killed the flowers, but it’s still kind of green.”

Zoe bursts out laughing. “It’s the thought that counts. Didn’t you water it?”

“Three times a day.”

She covers her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. “I love it.”

I take a step closer to her. The smile falls from her face, replaced with a look that is a mixture of longing and resistance. Her lips part slightly, and she bows her head.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say.

She glances up. “Me, too.”

I step closer still. Zoe takes in a sharp breath but doesn’t step back. She’s frozen, torn between her desire to run and her desire to fall into my arms.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a close hug; but nothing more. Her body relaxes against me. I can feel a week’s tension falling away. She lets her head rest against my chest.

“You’re better at this than you know,” she tells me.

“What’s that?”

“Stepping up.” She looks up at me and smiles. “All this time you’ve tried to stay away, but I think you’re pretty good at holding everyone together.”

I laugh. “I’m not so sure about that. You’re one thing. The kids and Laura are another.”

“I couldn’t have done this alone.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course, you could have, and if I hadn’t have been here, that’s exactly what would have happened.”

I step back from Zoe, letting out a long breath. I run a hand through my hair. Guilt punches me in the gut again. A lot of guilt has been catching up with me since I returned to Maine.

I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the mattress beside me, inviting Zoe to sit with me.

“This week has been tough,” I tell her. “It makes me realize how strong Laura is. It’s one thing keeping a company together, but a family’s another thing.”

“You’ve always been a lone wolf, haven’t you?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Not by choice. I’m not good with relationships. Other people always seem to be able to read signs, tap into emotions, and know what to say to each other. I never got a copy of that instruction manual.”

Zoe smiles at me fondly and nudges me. “There’s no manual, Tom.”

I lie back on the bed, my arms above my head, and stare at Laura’s cracked ceiling. “In business, it’s easy. You don’t have to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings. If a job is beyond you, you delegate. You can’t delegate family drama.”

She falls back beside me, fiddling with the neckline of her sweater. She looks calmer than I’ve seen her since I’ve been in town; almost content. There’s a smile playing on her face.

“I miss the family drama. My parents took off traveling when I was twenty-one. I hardly see them now. I’d love to have a weekend listening to them bicker and then flirt, for my mom to demand when I’m going to have kids, for my father to tell me that I’m not running my business properly. All that criticism is annoying as hell at the time, but I kind of miss having people who care enough to criticize.”

“You think it’s a sign of caring?”

“Sure! That’s what families do. They drive each other nuts.”

“Aunt Zoe?”

We both sit up. Megan is standing in the doorway, looking at us both lying on the bed. Her face twists into an expression of disapproval. She raises her eyebrows and folds her arms across her chest.

“I didn’t know you were here already.”

“I just got here.” Megan steps in and leans against the wall, casting her gaze around the room. “You’re staying in Mom’s room?”

“Is that okay?”

She shrugs. “I guess.”

Zoe stands and crosses the room to Megan. She pulls her toward her and kisses her forehead. Megan’s attitude slips a little, and her lips twist into a reluctant smile.

“Did Mom send you here?”

“She sure did. She said that your Uncle Tom was a terrible cook with awful taste in movies. She begged me to come save you.”

Megan laughs, but bites down on her smile, like she doesn’t want us to catch on to the fact that she’s glad Zoe’s here. She nods. “I’m old enough to take care of myself, you know.”

“I know. But who’s going to take care of your Uncle Tom?”

Her eyebrows lift again. “Is that what you’re doing?”

Zoe chuckles and gives Megan a playful shove, pulling her back into a one-armed hug. “Enough of that, young lady. You’ll have to wait until your next visit with your mom to have a good gossip. In this house, we’re not going to say a word about what you may or may not know about your Uncle Tom and me.”

Megan grins, and I’m left astounded by Zoe’s ability to get her on her side so easily.

“Tell me, Meg, what do you want for dinner tonight?”

“I’m going to Justin’s.”

“You know, I haven’t seen Justin in a while. Tell him to come here. We’ll order a pizza; then you two can disappear upstairs and have your privacy for a couple of hours. We’ll even stay off the Netflix so you can watch whatever you want. How does that sound?”

Megan seems unsure. She hesitates.

Zoe strokes back Megan’s hair behind her ear in a motherly fashion. “Please, Meg. I promised your mom I’d keep an eye on you. How can I do that if you’re all the way over at Justin’s? Besides, you told me that Justin’s house smells like spaghetti and cats.”

“It does.”

“It’s decided, then. Justin will come here tonight. Agreed?”

Reluctantly, Megan gives in. “Fine. I’ll call him.”

“Thank you, sweetie. Why don’t you call the pizza place while you’re at it? Whatever’s your favorite.”

Megan disappears downstairs to make her calls, and Zoe looks at me triumphantly, trying to hide her victorious smirk. She sits back down beside me, holding in that smile.

I shake my head. “How did you manage that?”

“Years of practice.”

“I told her to order her favorite pizza the other day, and she told me I was trying to bribe her.”

Zoe rests her hand on my knee and offers me a sympathetic smile. “Give it time. Megan’s still getting to know you.”

“I should thank you, you know.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

Zoe fixes me with an earnest stare. “It’s Laura. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend.”

“Not just since the accident. Always. You’ve been there for her.”

“She’s been there for me too.”

“I should have been here more.”

“You’re here now. It’s never too late to make a change.” She stands up and holds a hand out to help me up. “One down, one to go. Come on—let’s pry that Xbox controller out of Jack’s hands and make him play Kerplunk.”

I take her hand and stand. I follow her downstairs to the living room where Jack is playing. All the while, I’m watching her every move, admiring her; that kind smile, those bright eyes, her vibrant red hair.

With Zoe, I don’t feel like an outsider anymore. She makes this place feel like home.