Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
ASHER
I could say without a doubt that this wasn’t what I expected my life to look like. Three days ago, I’d been a twenty-seven-year-old musician making a living from my music and on the verge of my big break. I’d had a meeting scheduled with a record label to discuss signing on with them after a recent video of me at The Bluebird Cafe went viral. My life consisted of late-night gigs, some overzealous fans, and spontaneity.
In the blink of an eye, that had changed.
Now, suddenly, I was a twenty-seven-year-old in charge of two kids under four. My new late-night sessions were now less the acoustic country-rock variety while beautiful girls vied for my attention, and more the lullaby variety, which included wails of frustration instead of screams of delight. Overzealous fans had been swapped for two enamored tiny people, and nap schedules had replaced my spontaneity.
I’d changed more diapers in the past three days than I had the past three years combined. On the plus side, I was getting pretty good at it—I hadn’t been peed on in twenty-four hours.
Somehow, I’d managed to juggle it all since I’d arrived in Havenbrook along with the rising sun, knowing, for the first time, my sister wouldn’t be there to greet me with a hug and a smile.
Thankfully, I’d had help from the Havens, my second family. Rory had been a godsend, stepping in and taking charge in her Rory way, exactly how I desperately needed, considering I had no idea what I was doing.
It was late afternoon, and Owen refused to nap. Which meant the only thing my nephew was interested in doing was crying. June, on the other hand, was bouncing off the walls, though that was probably my fault. I was still learning the unspoken rules of child supervision. Namely, being a cool uncle who gave my niece ice cream for lunch had extremely short-lived benefits.
“Let’s play circus, Uncle Asher!” June cried, bouncing from couch cushion to couch cushion before taking a flying leap and hanging from my back like a spider monkey. The move jostled me, and thus jostled Owen in my arms, which only ratcheted up his cries.
I held Owen tighter, bouncing the little guy in an effort to be soothing. Quite the feat with an acrobatic four-year-old doing everything in her power to turn this house into an actual circus. “Believe me, Junebug, there is nothing I’d rather do than play with you, but your brother isn’t gonna like that much.”
She scrunched up her nose as she leaned over my shoulder and stared down at her little brother. “It doesn’t sound like he’s gonna like anything .”
I smothered a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
“Take me on a ride, then, like Daddy does!”
Just like it’d done at every mention of my sister or brother-in-law, my heart clenched, an empty ache radiating throughout my chest. And just like at every mention, I did exactly what June asked for. What else could I do?
“Okay, hang on tight.”
She squealed in response to my command, tightening her grip until I was damn near asphyxiated. No one could accuse her of half-assing anything.
As I stood, I kept up Owen’s steady bounce, even with June hanging off my back, her legs hooked around my waist as she squealed in giddy delight. She might actually be the one to blow out my eardrums—and that was saying something, considering the number of shows I’d played.
I cradled Owen with one arm as I spun to June’s symphony of excitement, my forearm braced below her bottom to make sure she didn’t slip down.
“More, Uncle Asher! More!” she demanded.
But if I did this anymore, I was going to puke. And, considering June’s lunch, I probably wouldn’t be the only one.
Just as I slowed my spins, the doorbell rang, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. At least now I had an actual excuse to stop. I paused for a couple seconds, just long enough to gain my balance. It seemed it was just long enough, too, for Owen’s cries to start back up, his wails ricocheting off the walls.
June wasn’t bothered by it, however, and just spoke louder so as to be heard over the commotion. “Do it again, Uncle Asher!”
“In a minute. We’ve gotta see who’s at the door.”
Every time the doorbell rang—which, in a town like Havenbrook, following the untimely deaths of two younger and beloved residents, meant it was fairly often. The freezer, at least, was stocked with enough casseroles to last us a month—I thought it might finally be Nat. Seeing as she was supposed to arrive yesterday but had been held up in Buenos Aires, I’d given up hope of that after her fifth text to update me on yet another delay.
Nash was on call to pick her up at the Memphis airport whenever she arrived, taking one thing off my extremely full plate. I’d assumed they’d keep me up-to-date as to her whereabouts.
But when I opened the door, there she stood, her appraising blue eyes roving over me, her full lips tipped up in that way that made her seem like she was perpetually amused. Her hair was the closest to her natural shade that I’d seen in more than five years—dark chestnut on the top, with the ends a bright, vibrant teal.
I couldn’t explain it, but seeing her had everything inside me shifting. Settling. As if I knew that her being there meant everything was going to be okay. After three days of uncertainty and turmoil, it was like a balm to my soul.
Nash’s honk pulled me out of my thoughts. He waved from his truck before pulling out of the driveway, and I could only manage a chin lift in response since my hands were full of sixty pounds of pissed-off and/or hyper children.
“He’s already late for a meeting, thanks to my delays, but he said he’ll stop by later.” Nat glanced to Owen, who was still screaming, his face a mottled red, and then to June as she clung from my neck. “Sounds like maybe you need some help.”
“Nat!” June yelled, releasing her grip on me to throw her arms wide.
My muscles tightened as I compensated for June’s lack of leverage, holding her up with my forearm. “Gotta hang on, Junebug, or you’re gonna be flattened on the ground like a real june bug.”
She giggled and threw her arms back around my neck, though she miscalculated and accidentally thumped Owen in the head. His screams only intensified.
“I’m sorry, Bubbie,” June said over my shoulder as she peered down at a wailing Owen and rubbed a hand over his downy soft thatch of hair. “I didn’t mean to, promise!”
Without missing a beat, Nat stepped into the house, dropped her bags next to the front door, and scooped a contrite June off my back. To me, she said, “You’ve got the screamer.”
“That means you’ve got the one hopped up on sugar.”
Nat only shrugged. “Perfect, then we match. I’ve eaten nothing but chips and peanut M&M’s for three days.”
With that, she tossed June over her shoulder before spinning the little girl around in helicopters. After a few moments, she dropped a giggling June onto the couch and stared down at her, fists propped on her hips. “I have a deal for you. What do you think of that?”
My niece, ever the skeptic, narrowed her eyes. “What kind of deal?”
“Whoever picks up the most before your brother stops cryin’ gets a cupcake from The Sweet Spot. Agree?”
I was pretty sure the last thing my niece needed today—or this week, for that matter—was more sugar. But there was no denying that Nat’s tactics worked because June agreed immediately, flying off the couch and dashing around the disastrous living room to get started.
The house was strewn with enough toys to fill an entire store, not to mention the dirty dishes I hadn’t been able to get to or the handful of discarded outfits June insisted on tearing through each day. Then there were all the pee-stained shirts of mine, as well as Owen’s—the kid hadn’t woken up dry once since I had arrived.
Nat may not have been the maternal type, but she was the see-something, do-something type, which was why her immediacy didn’t surprise me. No matter how long we spent apart, it was never weird when we saw each other again. Whether it was after five weeks or five months, we fell right back into the same easy rhythm we had always had between us.
She wore jeans and an oversized hoodie—her standard airplane uniform—and I knew from experience she was dying for a shower. While she loved traveling and seeing the world, she didn’t love airplanes or being stuffed like sardines with a bunch of random people she didn’t know, breathing in recycled air.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep,” Nat said as she bent to pick up a discarded sippy cup, not even bothering to look over her shoulder.
I huffed out a laugh at the exact moment a particularly sharp wail sounded from Owen. I adjusted him into a different position, lifting him upright and propping his butt on my forearm. He stared at me, as if I were the one responsible for all of this, his bottom lip quivering as he rubbed an angry fist into his eyes.
“I know, buddy.” I rubbed his back as I walked us toward his room and away from the peals of laughter from June and Nat. “Now that Nat’s here to take care of your sister, maybe I can finally get you to sleep.”