11. Jami
Jami
“OMG, a puppy.”
I’m on the floor before my brain catches up, my knees hitting the tile as he sets the little ball of fluff down. She’s all oversized paws and soft fur, her ears still undecided about which direction they belong.
“What’s her name?” I ask, because at the moment I can’t tell much else. At least I think it’s a female.
“This is Bella. Bella, this is—”
He squats, and the clean, woodsy bite of his cologne slips into my lungs. Blue eyes meet mine, warm and open.
“Jami,” I say. “I’m Jaxon’s sister, and Brody’s… friend.”
Friend feels right. Safe. Accurate adjacent.
Still, from the corner of my eye, I catch Brody stiffen. He shoves his hands into his pockets like he’s bracing himself for something. I hadn’t expected that. Surely he didn’t think I’d call him anything else. So why does it feel like I’ve said the wrong thing?
“Well,” Liam says lightly, scratching behind Bella’s ear, his hand brushing mine, “Jaxon’s sister and Brody’s friend, Bella here is a rescue.”
Bella promptly crawls into my lap, circles once, and settles like she’s known me longer than five seconds.
“She likes you,” Liam says, grinning.
I swear I hear Brody mutter something under his breath.
“I’m fostering her,” Liam continues, his brows lifting just enough to suggest hope. “In case you’re looking for a pup.”
A grunt cuts through the room. I look up to find Brody already shaking his head.
“We can’t take in a dog,” he says, firm. Final.
“Right,” I say, glancing back at Liam. “They’ve already taken in a stray.” I try to make it a joke, but when no one laughs, I add, “I’m staying with Brody and Jaxon until I get back on my feet.”
The words hit me. Temporary. Borrowed space. Here for the summer only.
“Well then,” Liam says easily, scooping Bella up. “Let me help you to your feet.”
He stands and offers his hand. My fingers disappear into his as he pulls me up, drawing me a little too close, and Brody’s mom claps her hands like this is all unfolding exactly as planned.
Her smile is brilliant. Knowing.
Oh.
This is the setup.
Duh. I should have known.
A veterinarian, who rescues pups and shelters them. Heck, nice job, Lori. If I were in the market I’d give her a ‘well-done’ and raise my hand for a high five. But I’m not. So I won’t.
I bite back a laugh. Honestly, this woman works fast and I should have heeded Brody’s warning. I do, however, briefly wonder why his mom never considered us. Brody and me. Then again, I’m Jaxon’s sister. I’m a mess. I’m between places and plans, carrying my life in a small suitcase.
They want someone solid for him. Someone rooted. Someone likely tied to the community.
Someone like Elise.
“If your circumstances change,” Liam says gently. “Bella’s all yours.”
“I’m waiting on an apartment,” I explain. “I don’t know how long that’ll take, and I’m only here for the summer. When I go back to Nova Scotia, I won’t have a big house or a yard.” I stroke Bella’s soft head, my stomach tight. “She deserves space to run. Cold weather. Snow.”
“Brody,” his mom says, as she bustles around the kitchen. I inch back, lean against the wall as drawers open and close, the sound of cutlery and warmth and family filling the house. “Can you set the living room table?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
He doesn’t walk away so much as retreat. I watch his back as he goes, the way his shoulders are tight, his steps heavy. What is going on with him? He can’t be upset that I called him a friend.
Unless it isn’t the word that bothers him.
Maybe he wants to be set up with Liam. The man is objectively hot, and no one in this room missed that. Still, something about Brody’s silence feels… off.
Lori waves a hand toward the archway. “Jami, why don’t you and Liam take the pup into the other room and show the kids. I’m sure they’d be delighted.”
I should stop this. I should gently untangle myself before she pairs us off like we’re inevitable. But Liam’s hand is already warm at my back, guiding me forward with an easy confidence that makes resistance feel awkward.
“I’d like to help,” I say, digging my heels in. “I can set the table, pour drinks—anything.”
“It’s all good,” Sadie says quickly. “Between the four of us…” she gestures to her mom, Rachel, and Jaxon “…we’ve got it covered.”
The message is polite. Clear.
For a beat, I wonder if they want me out of the kitchen so Rachel can slide closer to my brother. That feels fair. Jaxon could use someone kind and steady, and Rachel’s interest isn’t subtle.
So I go.
“What time is Verna coming?” Sadie asks as I step away, the clink of dishes and the low hum of family rising behind me.
As we pass the dining room, I catch Brody watching me. Not casually. His gaze snaps to mine, sharp and dark. Did he just snarl?
I blink, thrown completely off balance. What is his problem? Does he have something against Liam? Against puppies? Against joy in general?
“Who wants to see a puppy?” Liam announces, stepping fully into the room and lifting Bella.
“A puppy!” Laci squeals, launching herself off the floor.
Liam crouches, lowering himself to their level. God, of course he’s good at this. “This is Bella,” he says gently. “You can pet her. Like this.” He demonstrates slow, careful hands, patient and calm.
Mason hops beside me on the couch, his knees bouncing with excitement and nerves.
“He bit me!” Abby squeals suddenly, yanking her hand back.
Mason scoots closer to me instinctively, edging away from the pup.
“She’s teething,” Liam explains smoothly. “It’s not really biting. She doesn’t want to hurt you.” He glances at Mason, reading him perfectly. “You know how babies get teeth and chew on everything? Puppies do that too. I’m helping her learn.”
He smiles at Abby. “But yeah, those teeth are sharp, aren’t they?”
Abby nods, mollified.
I watch him, how he diffuses fear, how the kids relax around him, how naturally he fits into this room, and something tightens in my chest.
He belongs here.
I don’t.
And from the corner of my eye, I can feel Brody’s presence like a storm pressing against the windows, unspoken, unsettled, watching me.
Abby examines her finger. No blood. “So sharp.”
“Put your hand here,” Liam guides gently, showing her how to stroke along Bella’s back.
“Mason, do you want to pet her?” I ask, and he shakes his head, hesitating.
“I’ll make sure she won’t nibble,” Liam says. Then he sets Bella on my lap. “Here, Jami. Why don’t you hold her while I give her this toy?” A small fox stuffie appears from his pocket. Bella sinks her teeth into it, shaking her head as Mason inches closer, curiosity winning over caution.
“She’s so soft!” he squeals.
“She is soft,” I agree. My eyes flick to Liam as the kids settle into gentle petting. “It must be hard to give a pet up after fostering it.”
“Detachment is the key,” Brody says suddenly, stepping into the room with Jaxon. His gaze catches mine.
Detachment.
I swallow, unsure if I’m imagining it, or if he means me.
“You’re right,” Liam says, softer now. “You have to stay detached. But look at her…” His hand gestures to Bella. “Near impossible.” He sighs. “I’d keep her, but I already have two rescue retrievers.”
Brody snorts, a sound somewhere between amusement and scorn.
“What?” I ask, bristling.
“Nothing,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “So, you’re back, taking over your dad’s practice? Are you here for good?”
Liam nods. “Dad had some medical problems.”
I place my hand lightly on his arm. “I’m sorry.” Even without knowing his father, sympathy feels right.
“Sorry to hear that,” Brody says, his voice softer now. Liam’s brow furrows, then flicks up to Brody, reading something in his stance.
“How’s Elise?” Liam asks, glancing around as Jaxon steps into the room. “Is she coming to dinner?”
Brody stiffens visibly. There’s no detachment when it comes to Elise. He’s still raw, hurting.
“We broke up.”
Liam’s hands rest lightly on his hips, taking in Brody’s posture. “I thought you two—”
“We didn’t,” Brody interrupts.
As awkwardness fills the space, Rachel steps into the living room, sliding in beside my brother near the fireplace. The front door bangs open and I’m grateful for the distraction.
“Something smells good,” Verna calls from the hallway, her voice familiar from the diner.
Lori appearing in the hall with perfect timing, and helps her sister with her scarf. “Just in time.”
Verna takes it all in—kids clustered around a puppy on my lap, Liam and Brody glaring like rivals, Jaxon worried, Rachel hovering, no idea what just happened.
I hand Bella back to Liam, letting the puppy nuzzle against him instead. “It’s so nice to see you again,” I say to Verna.
“You too, Ducky,” she greets warmly, leaning in. “What’s going on in there?”
“Beats me,” I admit. She gives the room a long look, mouth quirking in amusement.
“Come on. I need a drink for this show.”
“What show?”
“Dinner,” she explains, grinning like that’s not the real truth. “Always a good time.”
Lori heads toward the kitchen, and Verna and I follow.
“Will I be meeting Theresa?” I ask.
“Not tonight,” Lori says, nodding toward the window, like her sister might be out in the back yard. “Big fishing party just came in, up at Lobstick. Some are staying at the hotel. She’s busy. You’ll meet her soon enough.”
I watch her for a moment, something warm blooming in my chest. This family—this home—is alive in a way I’ve rarely seen. “It’s really nice that you do Sunday dinners, and…invite so many people.”
“You didn’t do that back home?”
“No,” I laugh, the sound a little self-conscious. “Mom and Dad worked a lot. Sunday dinners were…macaroni and cheese made by Chef Jaxon.”
They laugh at that, and it feels like an embrace. “We’ll have to have him bring his dish one of these nights,” Lori says, smiling.
I glance over the spread on the counter, my chest tightening just a little. “I’m not much of a cook. I’d love to learn some old family traditions. I have more time now than I ever did.”
Lori’s smile is steady, warm. “Happy to teach you.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“Now,” she says, clapping her hands lightly before they all start gathering up the dishes. “Tell the crew to grab a seat.”
They carry the dishes in as I walk back to the living room. Bella is asleep in the corner of the couch, her tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm.
“Dinner is ready,” I say.
The kids bolt to the dining room at my words. Jaxon places a gentle hand on Rachel’s back and guides her in. I follow, taking in the long table set for adults and the smaller one at the end, just for the children.
Giggling, the kids fight over seats and part of me wants to sit there with them, the part of me that feels like I don’t belong at the adult table—like I haven’t been adulting properly in years.
Then Liam gestures, pulling out a chair. “Jami,” he says, and I glance at him. “Right here,” he adds, and I step up to him, letting myself sink into it as I think about how easy it is to hand myself over to someone else, let them make the decisions I can’t seem to make.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Across from me, Brody settles with a grunt, and the rest of the family fills in around us.
Plates are heaped with Newfoundland favorites—tender roast beef glistening with gravy, buttery mashed potatoes, and golden-brown turnip cakes.
I resist the urge to moan out loud when a bite of savory beef melts on my tongue.
The smell of pie in the oven waiting in the wings.
“Darn, I forgot the pickles.” Lori makes a move to get up. “Can’t have beef without my pickle.”
Since I’m closest to the kitchen, I raise a hand to stop her and stand. “I’ll get them.”
“Thanks, Ducky. They’re just on the counter.”
I step into the kitchen, scanning quickly before spotting the jar, its mustard sauce glinting under the warm kitchen light. I carry it back to the table. “Did you make these?” I ask.
“I did,” Sadie says. “They’re Brody’s favorites.”
“I love pickles, too,” I say.
“Just not pickleball,” my brother fires back, chuckling.
I try to open the jar, but the lid refuses to budge. Glancing at Brody, our eyes meet and we exchange a silent grin. Jars are tricky. An inside joke.
Liam reaches for the jar. “Let me help you with that.”
Before he can take it, Brody’s hand shoots across the table and claims it. “That’s okay.” All eyes turn to him and hush falls over the table for a beat, everyone watching his display of… strength? Competitiveness? Something undefined.
“There’s a trick to these old jars,” he says, tapping the lid with his spoon before twisting it free with ease. “See?”
He hands it back.
Sadie passes me a clean fork. “Fill yer boots.”
Fill yer boots.
Help yourself.
Eat as much as you want.
I unceremoniously dig into the jar, fishing our chucks of mustard pickles.
I like that there’s no fuss. Not everything has to be displayed in fancy bowls.
After I put some on my plate I hand the jar to Lori.
As the jar makes its way around the table, plates clang, spoons scrape, laughter punctuates the air, and everything smells of warmth and home.
Liam picks up where Jaxon left off. “You don’t like pickleball?”
I shrug. “I don’t know if I don’t like it… I’m just not good.”
“You weren’t that bad,” Brody says. “It was your first time. No one’s great their first time. Things take practice.”
“Tell the truth, Brody. If you did a Google search for ‘sucks at pickleball’ you’d find my face.”
That pulls a laugh from the table. “Brody’s right,” Rachel says and puts her hand on Jaxon’s arm. “These two are professionals. Let’s see how well they’d do in one of your yoga classes. Probably couldn’t hold a downward dog without toppling over and taking the entire class with them.”
God, she’s so sweet.
“I’m really looking forward to your classes, and thanks for scheduling hot yoga on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.”
Before I can say anything, Liam touches my arm. “I can teach you pickleball,” he offers. “I’m not a professional, but I know a thing or two.”
“It’s okay,” Brody says quickly…too quickly, judging by the way everyone is watching him again. “We’re teaching her.”
“Well, if you ever want to mix things up, I’ll give you my number,” Liam adds.
“Well, isn’t that lovely,” Lori says, and the conversation drifts to the upcoming pickleball competition. Forks clatter against plates, gravy drips get wiped up, the soft scrape of knives against bowls. During it all, I can feel Brody’s gaze lingering on me.
What is going on with him?
When the last plate is cleared, Lori and Verna carry them toward the kitchen. Sadie glances around the table. “Who’s ready for pie?” she asks. “I’ve got coconut cream and apple.”
“I’m always ready for your pie and I want a slice of each.” Jaxon jokes.
“Great.” She waves her hand. “Come help me with it.”
Brody rises along with him, looking pissed about something. “I’ll help too.”
As they step into the kitchen, my brother leans toward Brody, voice low. “What the hell, dude…?”
Yeah… that’s exactly what I want to know too…