“What?” Creed asks. “Why? What’d he do now? And who’s the pregnant chick? Ow, why did you just kick me? I am holding your son. You need to get me my lawyer so I can sue you for spousal abuse.”

“I’m your lawyer,” she reminds him. “And you can’t sue me for abuse.”

“Huh,” he says with a frown. “That seems like a conflict of interest.”

“Is that all right with you?” Megan asks me.

“If that’s what Izzie wants,” I say, looking at my sister. “And hey, your clothes should be about finished in the dryer if you want to change. But no rush.”

“Great,” Megan says, clapping her hands. “We’ll have a little girl-time. Maybe take a break from the crowd for a minute.”

And Izzie doesn’t hesitate as she follows Megan out of the room. She does look back over her shoulder at Otter and me, but then she’s gone down the hall.

“Wine!” I demand.

Two glasses are thrust into my hands.

I suck them both down in the space of two minutes.

I set the glasses down on the counter.

Otter puts his arm around my shoulders.

Everyone is staring at us.

Except for JJ. He’s found grapes from somewhere and is tossing them into the air, trying to catch them in his mouth, cackling while doing so.

Remembering my manners, I say, “Thank you all for coming to Tyson’s welcome-home surprise party.”

“Really,” Anna says dryly. “That’s what you’re choosing to go with right now.”

My skin feels like it’s vibrating. Because yes, that is what I’m choosing to go with right now, because if I try and do anything else, if I try and explain just what the hell is going on, I’m pretty sure I will freak the fuck out.

I smile. They all flinch just a little. “I don’t even know what you mean. We’re all here just being… here. Everything is fine. Everyone is calm. We’re all fine. Everything is just… fine.”

“Translate for your husband,” Creed tells Otter. “Because he sounds like a pod person, and I haven’t been convinced that’s not the case.”

“He’s fine,” Otter says in that same monotone. “Everything is fine.”

“Pod people,” Creed whispers.

“You’re all acting like someone died,” JJ announces.

“That’s because someone did,” Anna tells him.

“Oh,” JJ says. “That sucks. Dad, how many grapes do you think I could fit into my mouth at one time?”

“Sixteen,” Creed says distractedly. “Dude, Bear. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Bear,” Alice says gently. “I know you didn’t have the best—or any—relationship, but you’re allowed to be upset.”