I’ve been running a lot more lately, and for once, it’s not because of my dad. Well, mostly. I’m still being stupid over the fact that he hasn’t sought me out. And my sisters insist on sending me the articles popping up online, recapping the entire fucking debacle, weeks later. It’s been a month since he was released on probation, and I can’t wait to forget he ever existed.

No, I’m running, sometimes twice a day, because of Meg.

I imagine this feeling will go away eventually. Probably after our last kid graduates from college. I’m considering taking up running ultramarathons. What’s a hundred miles, give or take?

Duke thinks it’s hilarious. Like right now. When Meg stops by the Outfitters on her way to work, she’s wearing high-waisted jeans and a cropped sweater with a pair of brand-new Columbia boots. Objectively, the least sexy outfit ever.

Except I can’t stop staring at her. Her hair is piled on her head, black bangs tucked back, drawing all my worldly focus onto the delicate shell of her ear. Today she has half a dozen tiny hoops glittering, and it’s driving me out of my skin.

Which only proves the whole modesty argument really is bunk. She could be in a potato sack and I would find something to obsess over.

So, yeah. I’m in a near-constant state of hot and bothered. So much so that I am using the term hot and bothered.

“Did I tell you Vada is coming?” Meg asks, startling me out of my staring.

“Best friend Vada is coming?”

“And Luke! They are flying in for Thanksgiving. James said they could stay with us.”

“Flying in where, exactly?” I ask. We’re hours from the closest major airport.

“Green Bay.”

I raise an eyebrow, and Meg bats her eyelashes. I didn’t know she knew how to do that, but man, she’s good at it.

“Hey, Micah,” she sings.

Duke sniggers from behind the rack of down jackets he’s organizing.

“Yes, Meg?”

“Can we road trip down to Green Bay to pick them up in two weeks?” Part of me still does a mental fist pump whenever she talks in future tense. Even if it’s only weeks in the future. I mean, I obviously have her Christmas gift already picked out, but it’s nice to have it reciprocated.

I pretend to be annoyed. She bites her lip, smoothing a finger in between my so-called grouchy eyebrows that she loves so much.

“Please?” she asks softly.

Duke groans. I let the corner of my mouth quirk. “I suppose. But get me the date so I can make sure Dani doesn’t schedule me.”