“Don’t forget a diaper!” Millie said. “Or we’ll all be sorry.”
Right. A diaper. Brooke helped the kid into everything. She then tented a big soft blanket over the back of the couch to the coffee table, pinning it in place with several heavy books, one of which was filled with her own photography. From the old days, back when she was actually having the adventures Mindy thought she was still having.
“Yay, a fort!” Mason yelled enthusiastically.
Maddox barked with equal enthusiasm, flashing a smile and a devastatingly adorable dimple while he was at it.
“Aunt Brooke is the best,” Brooke heard Millie whisper to her brothers.
She smiled with pride, and felt a sense of warmth and affection that had been all too rare in her world lately. But along with the goodness came something else. A sense of dread. Because blood or not, family or not, this couldn’t happen. She couldn’t fall for Mindy’s kids, no matter how much she wanted to.
“Mad Dog!” Millie suddenly cried out, voice muffled like maybe she was holding her hand over her mouth. “You pooped!”
This was followed by a giggle. Mad Dog, presumably. Thank God for diapers.
“You’re supposed to do that in the bathroom!” Millie yelled. “Mom said!” And then she yanked the blanket down around them to dramatically gasp in some fresh air.
Mason and Maddox were rolling with helpless laughter.
“Boys are disgusting,” Millie announced.
Brooke shrugged. “You might think differently in a few years.”
“No way.” She jabbed a finger at Maddox. “He needs changing. If you don’t do it right away, he gets a rash and screams bloody murder.”
Brooke slid another look toward the kitchen. Still nothing from Mindy. So she scooped up Maddox and then nearly staggered back from the stench coming off the sweet little boy.
At the look on her face, Maddox giggled again and drooled down her front.
“You know what would be even funnier?” she asked, walking him out to Mindy’s car to find his diaper bag and then changing him outside on her porch lounge so that she didn’t have to hazmat her place afterward. “If you used the toilet like a big boy and showed your siblings what you’re capable of.”
He stared up at her, not committing to anything, but clearly considering it.
When she was done, she brought him inside, sprayed some Febreze, and re-created the blanket fort. Then she walked into the kitchen.
No Mindy.
Troublesome. Brooke filled a bowl with cut-up apples and a pile of almond butter for dipping, and thrust it into the fort.
It was immediately accepted with squeals of delight.
Proud of her aunting skills, Brooke went in search of her sister. It was with great relief that she found Mindy in her bedroom, sprawled out on the bed with a bottle of wine.
No glass.
“You’re drinking in my bed,” Brooke said, trying not to hyperventilate.
“Do you mind?”
Her OCD sure did. “Um—”
“Mom called,” Mindy murmured, staring off into space. “She told me that my husband and children are perfect.” She took a swig of wine. Clearly not her first. Or tenth. “Which means it’s me.”
Brooke took the bottle and set it on the nightstand.
Mindy flopped to her back on the mattress. “Oh my God, Brooke. This bed. It’s heaven.” She rolled around. “Your sheets are clean. You’ve got plants that haven’t been eaten. There’s no poop anywhere. It smells delicious.”
“Okay, seriously.” Brooke sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re scaring me. Who are you and what did you do to my sister?”
From the bathroom in the hallway, Mason called out, “I finished!”
Mindy sighed. “He doesn’t wipe efficiently and needs to be checked. As for what happened to me, I had babies.”
Brooke didn’t flinch. Progress. “You still haven’t told me about Linc, other than that he’s working long hours and is the good cop.”
“I never see him. A few days ago, he left for a conference in Florida with some colleagues and suggested I take the kids to Mom and Dad’s while he’s gone. So I asked Brittney if she wanted to come with me, but she said she couldn’t. Then later that same day on her Instagram, she was on a beach.”
“Okay,” Brooke said. “So . . . ?”
“So what if she’s on a beach in Florida with my husband?”
“Is someone going to come check me?” Mason yelled.
Brooke stuck her head out the bedroom door. “Listen, kid, you’re going to need to hang on a second, or handle the paper work yourself.” She turned to Mindy. “Have you actually talked to Linc?”
“No. He’s too busy. We’ve got a rule—when he’s traveling, we only check in via text once a day unless there’s an emergency. It’s because he’s so busy, and when he doesn’t call me all the time, I tend to get murderous and want to kill him. Hence the rule.”
Brooke loved Linc, and she got it. Mindy could be incredibly . . . needy, but she thought the rule was pretty shitty. “Maybe you’re wrong about all of this. And anyway, what does this Brittney chick have that you don’t?”
“Uh, boobs that haven’t been ravaged by three babies. And a waist. And I bet she doesn’t pee a little when she sneezes.”
Brooke grimaced. “Okay, let’s stay on topic. You’re the goal-orientated one here. What’s your goal?”
Mindy stared at her blankly.
“What do you need?” Brooke prompted.
“Linc to say he can’t live without me. In lieu of that, I could use a day or two away from the merry-go-round before I fall off and can’t get up.”
“You need to tell Linc this, all of it.”
“But I want him to just know.” Mindy reached for the wine and took another swig before squeezing out a few more tears.
Brooke sighed. If there was one thing you could say about the Lemon sisters, it was that they were night and day. Oil and water. Apples and oranges. But here was the thing—night and day melded together twice every twenty-four hours, oil and water could be forced to work together with a good shake, and apples and oranges were still both fruit. “What if I take the kids away for a few days?” she heard herself say. “You could stay here and relax.”
“Where would you go? To Wildstone?”
The thought brought a burst of hope and an equal burst of gut-wrenching anxiety. To go to Wildstone, she’d not only have to face her past, but the consequences of that past. “I was thinking maybe Disneyland. I’ve got some free passes. Perks of the trade.”
Mindy looked so hopeful it hurt. “You’d do that for me?”
Damn, she’d really been a crappy sister. “Yes. Now go to sleep. We can make plans in the morning,” she said, hoping this whole meltdown thing wasn’t contagious. Once again, she wrestled the wine away from Mindy’s hot hands and set the bottle on the dresser. Then she pulled off her sister’s sneakers and eyed the rest of her clothes. “How comfortable are those yoga pants?”
“They’re my skinny-weight ones. But since I’m not at my skinny weight, they’re not comfortable at all.” Mindy paused. “I’m not even at my medium weight. I’m the heavyweight champ right now, but I threw away all my heavyweight clothes.”