23. Kai
KAI
Wrenley Mae: Daisy wants to know if Hockey Kai wants to come watch a movie with us or if he has plans.
Kai: I didn’t have anything going today, so it sounds like i have movie plans now.
Wrenley Mae: She just cheered.
Kai: what are we watching?
Wrenley Mae: Paw Patrol unless Lily sells everyone on Frozen.
Kai: I’m siding with daisy. there’s only so many times you can watch frozen in one lifetime.
The typing bubble appears again.
Wrenley Mae: The limit does not exist here. 5-ish? I need to make sure they’re in bed before 8 or tomorrow morning will suck.
Kai: I’ll be there.
Grayson walks into the kitchen with his shaker bottle, takes one look at me, then glances at the phone in my hand.
“That Wren?”
I reach for the water bottle in front of me. “Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”
“Because watching you pretend you don’t want to talk about her is one of the few free forms of entertainment left.”
Harlow is sitting at the island in one of his hoodies, scrolling through something on her laptop. “He has the face.”
I scowl at her. “I have one face.”
“You have several,” she says. “Captain face. Annoyed face. Protective big brother face. Thinking-too-hard face.”
Grayson leans against the counter. “And the Wren face.”
“That isn’t a thing.”
“It’s a small smile,” Harlow says without looking up. “I don’t think you could control it even if you wanted to.”
I stare at both of them. “I’m leaving.”
“For Wren’s?” Harlow asks.
“For movie night.”
Her hands still over the keyboard. “All the kids?”
“Yeah.”
Something shifts in her expression. It isn’t suspicion. She’s past that. It’s closer to hope, which is somehow harder to look at.
“Okay,” she says.
I grab my keys from the counter.
“Kai?”
I stop near the door.
Harlow closes the laptop. “Just don’t disappear on her again.” She watches me for another second. “Have fun with Paw Patrol.”
I smile, realizing my sister must be texting Wren too. “Thanks.”
I swing by the store on my way to her house, finding a few things for tonight and a few items that will hopefully make mornings a little easier for her.
Wren opens the door before I knock.
She’s wearing black leggings and my sweatshirt. Her hair is in two little buns on the top of her head, several pieces already falling free.
Her eyes drop to the bags.
“You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“I respect your right to be wrong.”
She reaches for one of the bags. “Is that cereal?”
I hand over the bag. “I figured some breakfast options might hopefully make your mornings a little easier.”
For a second, she simply looks at me, her fingers still curled around the grocery bag. Noise spills from the house behind her—the TV, Daisy arguing with someone about movie snacks, Justin insisting he wasn’t the one who left a wet towel on the bathroom floor.
Wren’s eyes soften before she steps aside.
“Come in before Daisy assumes you’ve kidnapped me.”
I cross the threshold.
Daisy appears from the living room almost immediately. “Hi, Hockey Kai.”
“Daisy.”
“Are you watching Paw Patrol with us?”
“I am,” I tell her as we make our way to the kitchen, placing the bags on the counter. Wren starts unpacking everything and throws a bag of popcorn in the microwave to pop. “Is that cool with you?”
“Yeah, but are you sitting by me or Lily?”
A strangled coughing sound comes from behind me, and I turn back to see Wren trying, and failing, to hold in a laugh, her eyes bright with humor. She raises a brow at me, offering absolutely zero assistance.
“Uh.” I rub my nape. “I’ll probably sit by Wren, if that’s okay.”
Daisy looks slightly offended and doesn’t say another word before heading back to claim her seat on the couch.
When the opening music finally starts, Daisy points at the floor in front of the couch.
“Hockey Kai wants to sit by Wren. Justin, you’re on the floor.”
The room goes quiet for half a second.
Justin walks out of the kitchen with a couple of bowls of popcorn and hands one to each of the twins, then goes back to grab a couple more. He brings Wren one, then takes his place on the floor with a pile of blankets.
Holden turns a page in his chemistry book without looking up.
Wren clears her throat. “Thank you, Daisy, for managing the seating chart.”
“You’re welcome.”
I’m sitting at the end of the couch, Wren beside me, with Daisy tucked against her other side, and Lily curled near the armrest.
At first, there’re a few inches between Wren and me, then Daisy steals part of her blanket.
Wren shivers slightly, then shifts closer.
Her thigh presses against mine.
She doesn’t pull away.
The movie begins, and the room settles into the kind of quiet only children can create—constant whispering, snack wrappers, questions about things that were explained thirty seconds earlier.
Daisy provides commentary whenever one of the dogs makes a decision she disagrees with, and Lily tells her to be quiet and just watch, multiple times.
Wren’s shoulder rests against mine.
Every few minutes, she shifts as though she’s going to move away, then stays where she is.
I keep my eyes on the TV.
Mostly.
Halfway through the movie, her head dips.
She catches herself once, blinks hard, then looks around to see if anyone noticed.
I did.
“Go to sleep,” I murmur.
“I’m watching.”
“You just missed an entire rescue.”
“I closed my eyes to focus on the dialogue.”
“Obviously.”
She gives me a weak glare before settling back.
Five minutes later, her head rests against my shoulder.
Her breathing evens out.
I look down.
Loose strands of hair have fallen across her cheek, one of her hands still holding Daisy’s. Daisy barely notices. She’s too invested in the screen.
If there’s one thing that spending time in this house again has shown me, it’s that someday, Wren is going to make the most incredible mom.
She’s kind, patient, nurturing, caring, and selfless.
Always putting them before herself. But if she had someone else helping her in return, maybe it wouldn’t run her down so much.
Maybe I could be the other half of her team.
Carefully, I shift the popcorn bowl away from my knee.
Wren moves closer without waking, and I press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Holden looks up from his flashcards.
Our eyes meet.
He glances at Wren, then back at me.
I expect a comment. A warning, maybe.
Instead, he lowers his eyes and flips to the next card.
By the time the credits roll, Daisy is asleep against Wren’s side, Lily is pretending to be, and Justin has wrapped himself in his blanket until only the top of his head is visible.
Wren startles awake when the music changes.
“What happened?”
“The pups saved the day,” I say.
She pushes herself upright, blinking at the TV. “I knew they would.”
“You missed forty minutes.”
“It’s almost like I’ve seen this movie enough times now that it’s committed to memory.”
Daisy makes a sleepy sound and curls tighter against her.
Holden closes his chemistry book. “I’m headed up. Do you need anything?”
“Did you finish?” Wren asks.
“Most of it.”
“Holden.”
“I have study hall.”
“That’s where homework goes to die.”
“It’s where it gets a second chance.”
Justin crawls out of his blanket cocoon. “Do we have any more gummy worms?”
“No. Go brush your teeth.”
He opens his mouth, but Wren points upstairs.
Justin closes it and follows Holden.
Daisy wakes just enough to insist she can walk by herself before stumbling directly into Wren.
“I’ve got her,” I say.
Wren looks at me. “You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
Daisy lifts both arms toward me.
The decision is apparently made.
I carry her upstairs while Wren follows with Lily. Daisy rests her head against my shoulder, completely boneless with sleep.
I lower Daisy onto her mattress while Wren gets Lily settled.
Daisy catches the sleeve of my sweatshirt before I can step back.
“Movie night next Sunday?”
I glance at Wren.
She’s standing beside Lily’s bed, one hand on the blanket, watching me.
“We’ll see,” she says softly.
Daisy tightens her fingers around my sleeve. “That normally means no.”
“I’ll try,” I tell her.
She thinks about that, then releases me. “Okay.”
With everyone in their rooms for the night, we head back downstairs. Wren starts collecting the popcorn bowls and wrappers before heading to the kitchen.
“Why don’t you let me clean this up, and you can go shower?” I say, starting to fold the blankets in the living room.
She arches a brow. “Are you saying I stink?”
I chuckle. “No, I’m saying you’re exhausted, and I think a nice, relaxing shower could help you feel a bit better.”
That earns me the smallest hint of a smile.
“Fine,” she says. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
She heads upstairs.
Once I finish picking up the living room, I start on the dishes.
The sink is already half-full, so I rinse everything and load the dishwasher. I wipe the coffee table, then clean the kitchen counters.
Once I start, it’s difficult to stop.
Not because I need the room to look a certain way. The mess still catches at me, but it doesn’t feel threatening now. Each thing I move has a person attached to it. Daisy’s cup. Lily’s medicine spoon. Justin’s plate. Wren’s abandoned sweatshirt hanging over the back of a chair.
Tomorrow morning’s responsibilities are scattered all over the kitchen. I can at least make a part of it easier.
The lunch boxes are in the same cabinet as last time. Bread is in the pantry. Turkey, cheese, carrots, yogurt, apples.
Daisy’s crusts come off. Lily’s stay on, because she only copies Daisy when someone is watching. No mustard for Justin. Extra food for Holden.
I search two drawers before finding a pen that works, then label each lunch with a sticky note and stack them in the fridge.
The cereal bowls go beside the spoons. Oatmeal on the counter. Juice boxes in the refrigerator where the kids can reach them.
I look at the clock and realize it’s been close to thirty minutes since Wren went upstairs. I don’t hear the water running from her shower, so I head up the stairs to see what’s happening.