“Baby,” Boone growled.
I started breathing.
Only then did Boone ask, “Your niece isn’t eating?”
“She’s on a hunger strike until she sees me.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Boone murmured, switching on the ignition.
“Angelica says it’s a phase. But I’d say she probably weighed about fifty pounds. I don’t know how much a kid that age should weigh, but she was a healthy weight. Brian says she’s super skinny. Says she weighs, like, thirty-five pounds. She’s a tall girl. Thirty-five pounds is little.”
“Your mom hasn’t seen them in a while?” Boone asked, his arm around my seat, looking over his shoulder, backing out of the driveway.
“No. I didn’t think about it, with all that was happening with Brian. But she hasn’t mentioned them, and I thought she hadn’t because she didn’t want to make me feel badly, because I couldn’t see them.”
“Right, we’re gonna be there in fifteen, sweetheart. So get on the phone with your mom.”
I got on the phone with Mom.
In the brief conversation with Mom before she was out the door, I learned three things.
One, she’d only seen the kids once since Brian’s accident.
Two, she had noted at that time that it looked like Portia was taking off weight, but again, at that time, it wasn’t alarming, and she just thought it was because of all that was happening with the adults in Portia’s life. However, Mom did warn Angelica to have a care about that.
And three, right now she was freaked way the fuck out.
When I disconnected, Boone asked, “How was your brother when you talked to him?”
“Flipped out about Portia.”
“Other than that.”
“Sober,” I told him.
“Sorry?” he asked.
“He’s going to meetings. He says he’s sober. Has been for a little while. Not long. Eight days. But Angelica wouldn’t let him see his kids, and I guess that was the catalyst for him to find some help.” I took in a big breath, mindfully, which meant I also let it out. “He said he started meetings a bit ago. Kept falling off the wagon. But he’s on it now.”
Boone had no reply.
“He was nice to me, Boone. He ended the call telling me he loved me.”
It took a sec before Boone said, “Okay, baby.”
Yeah.
He was with me.
He was going to give Brian a chance.
Me?
“He’s gonna fall off again,” I said.
“Maybe. Maybe not. He’s on now and needs positive reinforcement for that.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“And it’s a pretty intense incentive to stay on it, his daughter starving herself and her mother doing dick about it.”
He could say that again.
“Yeah,” I repeated.
“Babe, that’s bad, but this is good. Her family is closing in. You’re all going to see to her. She’ll be all right. Focus on that.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
He held out his hand, palm up.
I took it.
We were at Angelica’s in less than fifteen minutes.
Brian was already there.
Boone and I met him at the end of the front walk, and it shook me, seeing him.
Not in a bad way.
In a good one.
Because he visibly looked sober.
Healthier, better color to his skin, his eyes alert.
And those eyes were darting between me and Boone.
They ended on Boone.
Boone was the one who handled it.
Succinctly.
“Our shit is over, man,” he declared.
Brian appeared thrown.
Then he said, “I was a dick.”
“And it’s over,” Boone said with finality.
“I was an extreme dick,” Brian kept at it.
So did Boone.
“Yeah, bud, and it’s over.”
Brian stared at him like he was from another planet before he turned to me.
“Ryn—” he started.
“Mom’s on her way, and I love you, you love me, and that’s it, Bri. That’s it. You with me?”
His eyes got misty.
“Dude, do not cry or I’m gonna lose it,” I warned.
His head twitched.
Then he muttered, “You are so weird about crying.”
“Whatev—”
I didn’t get that whole word out before we heard, “Aaaaaaauuuuntieeeee Rynnnnnnnie!”
I turned toward Angelica’s house to see Jethro barreling out of it, arms wheeling, heading straight to me.
Okay.
Shit.
So I was going to cry.
My nephew hit me like a train, and I went back on a foot.
I also bent over and wrapped my arms around him.
“Hey, bucko,” I said, my voice funny.
His head shot back.
“Hey!” he yelled in my face.
God, he was cute.
And God, until that moment, I didn’t allow myself to feel it.
But I missed him so fucking much.
“How you doin’?” I asked.
“Awesome,” he said.
I was uncertain that was true on the whole. More like true because I was there.
Which worked for me.
He pulled away and shouted, “Hey, Dad! You’re back!” and then he barreled into his dad.
Boone put a hand to the small of my back.
I looked up at him to see him looking at the house.
I turned my attention there.
Angelica was bearing down on us.
Oh boy.
“Jethro, get in the house!” she barked.
Jethro turned to his mom, then to his dad, to me, and finally, his eyes caught on Boone.
“Who’re you?” he asked.
“Jethro, what did I say?” Angelica demanded, arriving at us.
“I’m your aunt’s boyfriend,” Boone answered.
Jethro gave Boone a scrunch-nosed gross face.
He also totally ignored his mother.
But she made it so the rest of us couldn’t.
“Of course you are. Of course a stripper would land a hard body,” Angelica sneered.
New improved Ryn, I kept my mouth shut.
Boone stared down his nose at Angelica.
Brian murmured, “Angie.”
That got him her attention. “What are you doing here, Brian? I’ve already let you see the kids today.”
“I was worried about Portia,” he told her.
“I told you, there’s nothing to worry about. She’s throwing a tantrum. The best way to beat a tantrum is not to give it any attention,” Angelica Mother of the Year retorted.
“She’s too thin, Ang,” Brian said.
“She’ll eat when she’s hungry,” Angelica returned.
“You think?” Brian asked. “Because she can’t have lost that amount of weight by skipping a couple of meals.”
“You do not give in to a kid who is acting out,” Angelica decreed.
“She just wants to see her aunt. And her aunt is right here,” Brian pointed out, motioning to me with a hand.
“I say who the kids see, and I’ve told your sister she is not welcome here,” Angelica shot back.
“Ang, let’s talk this—” I began to try to make the peace.
She swung on me. “There’s nothing to talk about.”