Leave it to Nikki to make this a sensational story. No wonder she wanted to be a journalist. I’m still wondering why she chose to become a physician’s assistant instead.

“You’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. Don’t you have to pick up your children from our parents’ place?”

“Craig already did it,” she says.

“You know, since we’re meddling. Let me meddle too. Why do you keep having children when Mom is the one caring for them?”

Nikki huffs. “And she finally said it to my face.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Mom and Dad are retired.”

“Exactly, I’d rather pay Mom to care for them than leave them with strangers.”

“You pay them?”

“Do you know that there are statistics that say old people who care for children live longer and have better memories?”

“I had no idea you paid them.”

“Would you hate my children less if I disclose everything I do?”

“I don’t hate them,” I protest. “Your son destroys everything, and no one seems to care.”

“We do and we discipline him, but not in front of you. Unlike our parents, I choose not to humiliate my kids in front of the rest of the family. Lucas was grounded for a month without his favorite toy for what he did to Reggie. I get it, it annoys you that he is always destroying your stuff, but have you ever thought it’s because he loves you?”

She starts sobbing and says, “Stupid hormones, I hate them.”

“He did call me his favorite aunt.”

“You are,” she says. “And it sucks that you're not going to see him for a while, or any of us.”

I shrug. “New York isn't another country...I’ll be around for holidays.”

She sighs, nodding. “But it won't be the same...Can I suggest you stay with our parents for the rest of the week? Pack an overnight bag. Mom isn’t going to tell you anything, but she’s devastated. You’re the only one in the family who puts up with her rants and shopping trips.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Nikki takes the tub of frosting and a spoon and walks to the living room. “Pack, we can finish this while watching Friends reruns before we have to leave. If I’m lucky, my demons will be asleep by the time I get home.”

I pack a bag and when I take a seat, she says, “Do you think you're going to move back? After this job?”

I shrug. She knows I can't lie. I just don't know.

Twenty-Three

Miller