“Trust me,” Anna says. “You’ll need all of this and more. Those hundreds of diapers you have stacked against the wall? That’ll probably last you a couple of months, if you’re lucky. Formula? Gone by Thanksgiving. Wipes? Probably will have to buy more by the time Halloween decorations go up.”

The Kid stares at her, aghast. “That’s such a racket.”

“Newborns cry, poop, eat, and sleep,” Izzie says. “And that’s it.”

“How do you know?” Ty asks.

“I read about it on the internet.”

“You’re researching newborns?” I ask, oddly touched.

She sighs and puts the book down in her lap. “There are going to be two of them,” she says. “And I’m going to be their aunt. Of course I’m researching newborns. I plan on being their favorite out of anyone, so I need to get a head start.”

“Aunt Izzie,” I say. “You know, I never really thought of that. Weird, right? You’re only thirteen years old, and you’re going to be an aunt.”

“I was a late mistake,” Izzie says. “It happens.”

I frown at her. “You’re not a mistake.”

“I know that. Mom didn’t.”

“Well. Just as long as you know that.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Bear. My ego isn’t that fragile. I’m not you and Tyson, after all.”

“Hey!” my brother and I say at the same time.

“High-five,” Anna says, and Izzie grins smugly.

“Little sisters are a pain in my ass,” I mutter as I hand Dom more wrapping paper. “And you’re going to be the best aunt ever, so don’t you worry about it.”

She’s pleased, I can tell, but she tries to hide it with a scowl. She’s not very successful, so she picks up the bath station book again and puts it up close to her face.

Anna winks at me, not fooled in the slightest.

“I think that’s everything,” Ty says. “At least for today. Who knows how many other things you’re gonna get between now and when the babies get here.”

“Most of this is coming from Alice and Jerry,” I say. “Apparently, they don’t know the meaning of moderation.”

“They’re grandparents,” Anna says. “It’s sort of in the job description. I guarantee you that JJ has convinced them both that he never gets to have ice cream because his mom and dad are mean, so they’re probably buying him pints and pints of Chunky Monkey. I learned my lesson the hard way with that. Grandparents get to give the kids whatever they want, and then they send them home for the parents to deal with the fallout.”

“Maybe I should have just skipped to being a grandparent,” I say, finally seeing the floor underneath us again. “It sounds easier.”