"We still want our own place. It's not fair for Ember to have to live here with my parents and my brothers and my sister. She needs her own place so she feels like we have our own home. I want you to be my best man, too."

"Well, fuck yeah."

"And we want you to live with us."

Whoa. He's throwing way too much at me and making my head spin.

"Um, come again?"

"Live. With us."

"Are you bent? Why would you want me to live with you?"

"Don't you want to get out of your parents’ house?"

"Yeah, but aren't you getting your own place so you can be alone? Me being there kind of defeats the purpose."

"We want you to live with us. We can write more songs and practice more if we're all together. And we'll need some help with the baby. Kenzi loves you. You're the only one who can get her to stop crying."

I knew there had to be a catch.

"So you want me to be like a live in babysitter?"

He laughs. "I guess. Like a manny. You can pay the cable bill and buy groceries and I'll pay for everything else. C'mon, it'll be fun."

I make a few hundred dollars a month working for my father at his bike shop. The plan is for me to work there full time after I graduate at least until the band takes off and we're living on the road. I can feel it in my gut - we're going to make it big soon.

Asher does landscaping after school and on weekends plus he gets an allowance from his parents just for existing. I think it’s ridiculous, but I don't know what it's like to come from a wealthy family so I keep my mouth shut about it. So, I guess we could afford an apartment. My mom will probably have a shit fit that her oldest baby is moving out, but she'll still have my brothers and sister living there so she won't be dealing with empty nest syndrome yet.

"Do I get my own room?" I ask. "Because I'm not sleeping on the couch every night. I don't want my face where your ass has been sitting."

"Of course you get a room. I'll take you over there tomorrow so you can see it. There's actually a loft upstairs, so you'll be on your own floor with lots of privacy. You know, in case you ever actually date someone." He hints, punching my arm.

"Worry about your own dick. Mine is fine."

That's a bunch of crap, though. My best friend is getting married and has a baby who is almost two years old and I haven't even gotten laid yet. Even though meeting Ember totally accelerated Asher's life plan, from where I'm sitting, he's got everything.

Kenzi

Being back home is bittersweet, and I feel this way every time I come home from visiting Maine. When I'm there, I miss everyone here, but then when I come back home, I miss Aunt Katherine and the peacefulness of the Inn. Before I left, she had a long talk with me and asked me to come live with her and work at the Inn. The thought is very tempting. I just don't know if I'm ready to leave my father, or be that far away from Tor.

My bedroom feels empty without Snuggles in her spot by the window that she spent twelve years inhabiting. I'm grateful my father cleaned her cage and put it in the basement so I wouldn't have to see it, so barren without her, as soon as I got home.

There was a tiny black organza bag on my nightstand when I got home, and inside it was a small tuft of her fur.

Underneath it I found a handwritten note:

I thought you might want to have this to remember her.

Love forever & longer,

Tor

Today I read the note again, my heart bursting with even more love for him over the incredibly thoughtful and sweet things he always does for me. I don't even think that Tor tries to be this way; it just comes naturally for him.

I can't help but wonder if he did things like this for Sydni. Or Lisa. Or are these gestures and sentiments only for me due to our long history? As selfish as it seems, I want this side of him to be only for me. Reserved for me alone and no one else.

I didn't text Tor last night when I got home because I spent hours sitting with my father on the patio talking about everything we missed in each other’s lives over the past two months. At one point, he went inside to get a cold drink and came back with three gift-wrapped boxes for me, all in pink paper with silver bows.

"Dad, you didn't have to get me gifts."

"Don't be crazy," he leans down and kisses the top of my head before taking his seat across from me. "I can't believe you're eighteen. That blows my mind, baby. It feels like just yesterday we brought you home and had no idea what to do with you."

I smile at him as I open the largest box. "You did great, Dad. I made it to eighteen without ever smoking pot, getting drunk, or getting pregnant. And I'm pretty sure I've never told you to go screw yourself. So, job well done."

"When you put it that way, I feel like the best father on the planet."

"To me you are."

Pushing the white tissue paper aside, I pull out a charcoal sketch of Snuggles on canvas. My hand flies to my mouth as I choke back tears.

"Daddy...oh my God. It's my Snuggles. This means so much to me." In the lower right corner is the signature of my uncle Lukas, and that just makes this even more special. Lukas is an amazing artist.

"I didn't have any pictures of her so Lukas had to draw her from his memory. I hope it's okay. He said he can fix anything that you'd like changed, or he can start over with a new one."

"No." I reply quickly, taking in all the details of the incredibly realistic drawing. Lukas captured her exactly and I wouldn't change a thing. "It's absolutely perfect. I'm going to have to call him and thank him."

"Actually he'll be here tomorrow night for your bonfire birthday get-together, so you can thank him in person."

"Even better."

Smiling, I pick up the next box and unwrap it as he takes a few pictures of me.

"I want your mom to see these someday." He says, and I must make an involuntary face because he quickly puts his cell phone back down on the table and holds his hands up like he's surrendering. "Okay, I won't take anymore and we won't talk about that. Just open your presents."

This box is filled with different types of stationery, a new leather planner, monogrammed note cards, and matching envelopes.

"Aw, Dad. You're feeding my new planner addiction. I love it."

"Chloe told me you wanted that one to go with the ten others you have." He teases.

"I did. I'm going to actually use this one, though." I have no idea what I'll be planning, but I feel like it will motivate me to do something every day if I have to write it down.

My dad slides the last, and smallest box across the table to me.

"I've been waiting to give you this one."

I put my hand on it and study his face. "Uh oh. That means it's going to be extra special. Is it going to make me cry?"

"It might."

I open the box slowly, and inside is a smaller, red velvet oval box. It has a tiny gold clasp that I lift with my fingernail, and inside is a white gold and diamond watch that belonged to my mother, gifted down to her on her eighteenth birthday from her Grandmother. My mom absolutely loved this watch and only wore it on very special occasions like Christmas and her and dad's wedding anniversary.

I carefully lift the watch from its white satin pillow and turn it in my hand, the light catching the sparkling diamonds. The glittering gems always fascinated me when I was younger; I used to call them tiny stars.

"Dad...are you sure?" I ask with uncertainty. I'm not sure I should accept this when Mom isn't here to give it to me herself. I can't bear the thought of doing anything that would upset her, or taking something that meant so much to her.

He nods, his eyes dark pools of emotion. Love. Sadness. Pride.

"I'm positive, Kenzi. She always planned to give it to you on your eighteenth birthday. She wanted you to have it."

"Will you put it on for me?" I ask, handing it to him. My eyes are misty as he takes it from me and gingerly clasps it around my wrist. It's delicate and beautiful and a hundred memories of my mom wearing it flip through my mind.

"I promise I'll take care of it just like mom did." I say, wiping at my eyes with my napkin.

"I know you will, baby. She knew that, too."

I try to re-imagine this night if my mom was still here, and not trapped in a wakeless sleep. Her hair would be long and loose, and she'd have on a flowy blouse and cut off jean shorts, one of her favorite casual go-to outfits. She'd sit close to Dad and they'd hold hands and smile while they watched me opening my presents. I'd feel their love radiating from them like I always could, and I'd get that happy warm fuzzy feeling inside just being part of their little bubble. My mom would jump up in excitement after I opened the watch, and she'd put it on my wrist and kiss my cheeks and go on and on about all the things she had planned for us to do together. Mom was always so excited about me growing up and being her best friend.

"I heard you had lunch with Sailor while you were out in Maine." Dad suddenly says with a hint of rare displeasure.

"Yeah, he has family nearby. Kind of a small world. We had lunch and then drove around talking. I'm designing a tattoo for him."

He pushes his hair off his face and fixes a thoughtful expression at me. My father has shifted into thinking mode, which may or may not go well for me.

"Are you two dating, then?"

"I saw him once, Dad. Geez."

"Once is a start."

I quirk my eyebrows up at him. "We're not dating. It was purely on a friendship level. He's really sweet, though, and he was very polite. He didn't even kiss me or ogle at me or do any sort of thing that would make you want to kick his ass. Okay?"

"Good." My father says.

"I'm eighteen now, Dad. You can't get nervous every time a guy pays attention to me."

"I can't help it. And I like Sailor, he's a good kid. But I think he's too old for you. He's travelled, he's in a new band, probably has lots of experience..."