“When your daughter wastes away to nearly nothing, Angelica, that is not just a tantrum,” Brenda informed her. “Now I know why you didn’t let me come over and it makes me sick to my stomach. Sick to my damned stomach.”

“We should help Mom and Brian,” I murmured to Boone.

Angelica whirled again to me.

“You’re not stepping one foot in my goddamned house.”

“We’ll wait in the car,” Boone murmured to me.

“You won’t. You’ll go in and help pack up my babies so this scene can be done for them and they can be at home with their father,” Brenda decreed.

Angelica was whirling again. “He’s a drunk, Mom.”

“He’s not. Not at this moment. He called me weeks ago to get Bob’s number and Bob tells me he’s doing the work.”

Who was Bob?

“So he’s a drunk hanging out with drunks,” Angelica derided.

“You know better than that. Bob’s been sober for nine years,” Brenda returned.

Oh.

All right.

I didn’t know Bob.

I just knew Bob got Brian to a meeting.

So I really liked Bob.

Boone took my hand and we skirted the dueling pair.

There was no hope Angelica would miss it.

And she didn’t.

“Right, there she goes. She took everything else from me, now she’s going to take my kids.”

“You know, Ang,” Brenda began, “the sad part of this, the part that breaks my heart, the part that just kills me, is that it took your man nearly killing himself, and definitely losing his kids, to snap out of it. But you? Brian’s going to take those kids from this house, he’s going to get his act together, he’s going to father those children, and you are going to spend your time convincing yourself how everyone done you wrong, until you’re certain you’re right, and then you’re still not going to be a good mother. Or maybe even a decent person. You’re going to book a massage.”

Ouch.

Boone pulled me in the house.

Once in, I let his hand go and made a beeline to Portia’s room.

I got to the door, and I stopped.

Her dad was folding clothes into a little pink suitcase.

She was shoving stuffed animals in a garbage bag.

Apparently, Mom was with Jethro packing his stuff.

Portia looked to me and it was good she melted when my eyes filled with tears because she was so scary skinny.

“C’mere, baby,” I whispered.

She dumped her stuffed animals and raced to me.

I crouched down and caught her in my arms, then fell to my ass when hers went around me.

Her delicate body racked with a sob.

Mine returned the gesture.

“Don’t go away again, Auntie Rynnie,” she bawled into my neck.

“I won’t, honey.”

“Promise.”

“Swear.”

She held tighter.

I didn’t let her go.

Boone asked, “What can I do, bud?”

“Finish her stuffed animals?” Brian requested.

“On it,” Boone said.

I kept Portia close and got a lock on my tears before she did hers.

And I held her in my lap after she’d wound down to sniffles.

I continued to hold her in my lap as she peeked out from under spiky-wet lashes and whispered, “Your new boyfriend is really cute.”

Boone was in profile, now helping Brian stuff clothes into a different garbage bag.

I still saw his lips twitch.

“That he is, my girl, that he is,” I agreed.

She rested her head on my shoulder, and after a beat, asked, “After we drop our stuff at Daddy’s, can we still go get ice cream?”

To this question, from two different male mouths, she got two very firm answers of “Absolutely.”

Epilogue

“My Hero”

Boone

Boone sat in the grass, knees up, elbows at them, holding his pop loose between his legs, as he stared at Ryn and the kids racing around the backyard of her flip.

It had started with Frisbee.

But ten minutes ago, the Frisbee had flown over the back fence, no one went to get it, so he had no idea what they were doing now.

“I cannot believe I wasn’t there through that shit.”

That was her brother, who was sitting next to Boone, same position, with a pop, eyes on his sister and his kids.

Boone had just told Brian about Ryn, Cisco, dead bodies, and how they still needed to look after their girl.

It was a lot to lay on a guy who was a full three weeks sober.

But from the sound of his voice, Boone suspected it wasn’t going to drive him back to the bottle.

He sounded like he now had more than two very important reasons to keep his shit tight.

He always had.

It was just good he was finally seeing that.

“Don’t kick yourself in the ass too much, there’s nothing you could have done,” Boone told him.

He knew Brian was facing him when he asked, “Does Mom know about the dead guys?”

He looked to Ryn’s brother and shrugged. “Don’t know. Just know if she doesn’t, it isn’t me who’s going to tell her.”

Brian’s eyes wandered back to his sister. “If she’s keeping it from her, and you did that, Ryn’d have your ass.”

“Mm,” Boone hummed in agreement.

Though she already had his ass, just in a better way.

There was silence as they watched a now-much-healthier-looking but still underweight Portia nearly take a header but Ryn caught her at the waist, pulled her up, and they were laughing uncontrollably.

At what, Boone had no clue.

But fuck, his woman was beautiful when she laughed like that.

And that right there was going to be his life.

Three kids (eventually).

And Kathryn.

It still tore him apart that Jeb was in such a bad place he couldn’t see that future for himself.

But Boone could.

He could see it clear.

And if his dad was right about God being everywhere, then Jeb knew Boone was going to have it.

And it settled something in Boone, because he knew Jeb would like that a fuckuva lot.

It’d only been a couple of weeks since the scene outside Angelica’s.

She’d threatened to sue for custody, though no one knew how she would manage to do that since she still had no real job, and as she also didn’t have the kids, so she had no financial help from anyone.

Including Brian.

And Brian was going to evening meetings and he was doing that daily. Boone knew this because he and Ryn had the kids a lot when he did.

“We should talk about the hospital.”

Boone turned to Brian and stated, “I told you that was done. I don’t need it.”

Brian turned to him. “I know this is gonna make me sound like a selfish fuck, but it’s cool you don’t. I’m glad about that. Says a lot about you and a lot about the man you’re gonna be for my sister. But I do.”

Boone shut up.

“She was right.”

“Sorry?” Boone asked.

“Ryn. She was right about Angie. I knew it even before all that came out with you, catching her pulling her shit.” He huffed out a breath and kept at it. “When she got pregnant, she was thrilled. I was freaked. The minute she started having morning sickness, definitely when she started showing, it all dawned on her and things got real, I knew. We had Portia, all she wanted to do was dump her on Mom, Brenda, Ryn and go do something. Hang with friends. Weekends in Vegas. Just something. I mean, we got a newborn, I was barely making any money back then, and she wants to go to Vegas?”