Maybe they’d let me move in with them.

“Well, no. Maybe. I don’t know, but you’re making it sound worse than it is.” Who was I trying to kid? It was exactly as bad as he’d said. “And he’s not old.” I heard the annoyance in my voice, I but didn’t care. Nick could handle it; he’d been on the receiving end of far worse.

“Isn’t he, like, fifty or something?”

“He’s fifty-two. And he looks really good for his age.”

“And how old is the young one?” I sighed an exasperated sigh. Emotional, jet-lagged, sleep-deprived Sarah is an uglier beast than hungover Sarah.

“He’s nearly twenty-nine,” I said, fudging Josh’s age a little. He wasn’t even twenty-eight-and-a-half yet. And just so you know, it’s possible to grind your teeth when you talk.

“So, the old one could be the young one’s dad.”

“Oh, my god, Nick. Seriously, please shut the fuck up!”

He chuckled and I rolled my eyes, both of us playing our parts in a routine we’d done a hundred times. Nick knew I really did love him, just like I’d love an actual brother who annoyed the hell out of me but would do anything for me—like pick me up from the airport after I’d broken up with my boyfriend in Hawaii.

We were quiet the rest of the way to their house.

Lins came out to meet us after we pulled up in the driveway. “Okay to get the bag, babe?” she asked Nick. It was her not-so-subtle reminder for him to get my suitcase out of the boot, because he was already halfway up the path to the front door when she said it.

He went back for the bag while Lins took my carry-on from me. She eyed Maui curiously.

“He’s my turtle,” I said, a little defensively.

She shook a flipper. “Nice to meet you, uh …” She looked at me.

“Maui,” I prompted.

“Maui.” She smiled. “He’s cute. Now come inside before we get eaten alive by mozzies.” Nick passed us on the path.

“I’ll pop this in your room, Sez.”

“Thanks, Nick.” They called their guest room “Sarah’s room” because I stayed over so much, one of the many benefits of having a cat over a dog. For a single night away, I could leave some food out for Domino, kiss him goodbye and he wouldn’t even lift his sleepy little head to say “‘hello” when I came home the next day. As long as he got fed, he was cool with my frequent sleepovers.

Inside the entryway, Lins put down my carry-on and I put Maui on top. “Domino!” I called, as though he would come; he’s his own cat.

Just then, I heard a high-pitched “meow” and—knock me down with a feather—Domino came running to me from the living room. I scooped him up and hugged him, his purring a much-welcomed welcome home. I nuzzled his fluffy black and white fur, then burst into tears.

“Here,” said Lins, taking him from me and putting him down. “Come with me.” She took my hand and led me into the living room. “Sit.” I sat, immediately grabbing one of their forty-seven throw pillows, pulling it onto my lap, and hugging it. Pillow. Maui. Domino. I just wanted to hug things.