“Dude,” Jesse said, seeming to give up on trying to get Mike to sit down and just steadying him instead. “How much did you drink?”

“Not much,” Mike insisted, jabbing at his phone again. “Just the same as the same amount as what I drink usually. Same same.”

“Did you eat anything first?” Jesse asked, and Mike shook his head carefully, just once to each side. “Do you think maybe you should have?”

“Ohhhh,” Mike said, trying to snap his fingers but then giving up after a few tries and just pointing at Jesse. “You know, maybe that actually does make me some sense. Didn’t think about that. Didn’t do the math. Didn’t crunch the numbers.”

“I think we should get him out of here,” I said, and Jesse nodded.

“Great idea!” Mike said, again too loudly. “I’ll drive.” He patted his pockets again. “No, I won’t.”

“No,” I said firmly, hoping that Jesse was keeping his keys far away from my brother. “You won’t.”

“I’ll drive him back to my place,” Jesse said to me after a slight pause, not sounding too happy about this idea. “And then . . .” He sighed. “I should probably keep an eye on him tonight.”

I nodded, knowing exactly what this meant—that whatever we’d been starting in the game room was not going to continue tonight, because Mike had gotten himself sloppy drunk.

I tried to think of some way to get around this, some other plan that we could think of where this wouldn’t have to be the way the night went. But I couldn’t seem to see any other avenues, and finally I nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Jesse and I looked at each other, and it was like there was a whole silent conversation between us. I could see regret and disappointment on Jesse’s face, and I knew that’s what I was feeling too.

“What?” Mike asked in a loud whisper, looking between us. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said, feeling like the sooner we got him out of here, the better. “Let’s go.”

We managed to get Mike out the back entrance, which was closer to where Jesse had parked his car anyway. And it turned out to be a good thing, since Mike seemed to be getting drunker with every step he took toward Jesse’s hatchback. We maneuvered Mike into the passenger seat, where he went boneless, sprawling out across the seat and closing his eyes.

“Hey,” Jesse said. He glanced at the car, then took my hand and pulled me a few steps away, so that we were by the next car over, one of those SUVs that’s so long they really seem like at some point they should be properly called buses.

“Hey,” I said, looking back quickly at his car. I could see through to the passenger seat—Jesse had parked adjacent to one of the parking lot’s lights—and it looked like Mike’s eyes were still closed.

“Sorry about this,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “Not exactly the evening I’d imagined.”

I smiled at that. “Me neither.” He started to bend his head toward me, and although most of me was screaming to just kiss him back, I couldn’t help glancing over at the car once again. “What about Mike?”

Jesse just shook his head. “He’s three sheets to the wind,” he said with confidence. “He won’t see.”

I nodded, even though there was a piece of me that suddenly realized I wanted him to say that it didn’t matter—that he didn’t mind if Mike saw, or if everyone saw, because he liked me and didn’t care who knew it. He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss, but unlike the kisses in the game room, I could feel that we were under the clock—without nearly enough time to lose myself in him like before.

“Okay,” he said as he broke away and took a step back, regret etched on his face. “I should get back to your brother. Who I want to murder, by the way.”

“Right,” I said as reality—which was so much less fun than kissing Jesse—intruded once again.

“So.” He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me toward him. “I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow?”

I nodded, starting to smile. Jesse would be at the wedding tomorrow—and we’d have the whole reception, and hopefully this time we would dance together longer than just a few seconds. And then after the reception . . .

“It’s a plan,” I said. Jesse leaned in to kiss me once more, and when we broke apart, I glanced over at the car. It looked like Mike’s eyes were still closed and he was still leaning against the window, but for just a second, I could have sworn he had been looking over at us.

CHAPTER 15

Or, Never Bet Against Anderson General Life Insurance

* * *

BY THE TIME I GOT back to the house, it was after midnight. I’d returned from the parking lot to find that everyone else had left. I didn’t take it personally that nobody had realized I was still at the Inn—we’d all caravanned over in a line of cars, and everyone had probably assumed I’d gotten a ride back with somebody else.

I was about to use a ride-sharing app—Danny had linked my account to his when I started high school—but there was a Stanwich Taxi idling in front of the Inn, and after making sure the driver was taking rides, and not just a nap, I got in. As I told him my address, he visibly winced, and I realized it was the same driver who’d brought both J.J. and Uncle Stu to the house. So I could get why he wasn’t thrilled—between the two of them, he clearly thought we were a family full of grifters.

I’d expected the house to be quiet and dark when I got home. It was late, after all, and we had a big day ahead of us tomorrow. But as I headed up the driveway, I could see lights shining through the front windows.

I crossed around the side of the house to let myself in through the kitchen door, holding my heels by their straps, wincing as I eased the door open inch by inch, until I was sure that the alarm wasn’t going to sound and wake up the whole house.

I shut the door gently and then turned to see that the kitchen was packed—J.J. and Rodney were sitting at the island, both with bottles of beer, Linnie was sitting on the counter, and Danny and Brooke were at the kitchen table, Waffles on Brooke’s lap, getting his ears scratched. There was a box of pizza on the counter, with one lone slice and a bevy of crusts left. I just took in the sight for a moment, wishing I could somehow preserve this moment, freeze it in amber. Because this—minus Brooke and the dog—this was what I’d been picturing when I’d imagined this weekend.

All of us, together again. At last.

“Hey,” I said as I came inside and dropped my shoes by the kitchen stairs. “I thought everyone would have gone to bed already.”

“Ha,” J.J. said, waving this away as he took a sip from his bottle. “The night is young.”

“It’s really not,” Rodney said as he rolled up his sleeve to look at his watch.

“Why are you back?” I asked Linnie, crossing barefoot to the fridge. “I thought you were going out with the girls.”

“I did,” she said. “But then Jenny K. met someone, and we decided to clear out and give her some space. And then when we got back here, Priya realized she was exhausted. . . .”

“Priya was on the right track,” Rodney said around a yawn. “We should probably turn in.”

“Yeah,” Linnie said, pushing herself off the counter.

“Wait,” I said quickly, shutting the fridge door without taking anything and turning around to face everyone. “We can’t go to bed yet!”

“It is kind of late, Chuck,” Danny said.

“But—we all just got here.” I knew this wasn’t technically true, but it felt like it. I was finally with my siblings, in the kitchen, without alarms going off or tent crises or guests coming and going. And yes, technically there was both an unexpected girlfriend and a beagle. But just going to bed felt like I would be letting this chance slip by. How many more times would we even be in this kitchen together? I had a feeling I could probably count them on one hand, and the thought made me feel panicky. “We need to do something fun, something to mark Linnie and Rodney’s last single night.”