The Distraction

Untitled Part 3

"Cocoa Puffs!" Rosie yells, slamming her spoon on the table as I place herbowl of yogurt and berries in front of her. Obviously, girlfriend has opinionsabout what should fuel her little body first thing in the morning."Nope, yogurt today. Maybe another morning." On each birthday,Autumn and Steve let the kids pick out a single box of junk cereal. Theytypically pack the house with healthier options, but birthdays are sacred sugarfests. The littlest Sutter's birthday was nearly two months ago, but she's stillsalivating over the chocolatey cereal. Can't blame the girl.She harrumphs, knowing full well arguing will get her nowhere with me.Her spoon digs into her yogurt, but the gears in her mind are almost visible,planning and scheming how she can get her beloved cereal again.Turning with a smile on my face at the fierce little girl, the mug of coffeenearly goes flying out of my hands when a drowsy Hunter strolls in wearingbaggy grey sweatpants and a white tee. He stops in the doorway, armsstretching overhead and yawning in what can only be described as ahumorous caricature of a tired person, but on him, it looks unbearably sexy.Like a hot, tired guy from a rom-com.God, why do you hate me so?His slightly overlong hair is a mess and one corner on top is stickingstraight up, begging for a brush. The raised arms cause his tee to lift, showinga stretch of golden skin above his low-slung sweats.I have to remind myself not to pant at the toned stomach, tanned skin, anda slight happy trail leading into gray fabric, clearly lacking any kind ofunderwear. Holy. Fuck."Good... uh, good morning, Mr. - uh, Hunter. Can I get you something forbreakfast?" God, please give me something to keep me busy so I'm nottempted to stare at this man all morning. Please."Is this a thing with you? Always trying to feed and take care of otherswhen you're already busy?" The fuzz around the edges of my vision that wasforming at the mere sight of him fades immediately."I'm just asking if you want me to make you something. No need to berude." Turning on my heel, I start cleaning up breakfast. That's one way tokill my interest in him. No wonder he's always arguing on the phone. Heclearly has terrible personal skills. Grabbing the spray cleaner, I start to wipedown the marble counters, collecting the juice and drips of honey frommaking the girls' breakfast."Not being rude, just asking a question.""So, that's a no. You don't want breakfast," I say, looking at him over myshoulder, putting the orange juice away. This man is such an ass."That's a no. I don't really eat breakfast. But I'll take a coffee if you'vegot it."I'm tempted to tell him to get it himself, but decide to play nice instead. Ihave no idea how long he'll be staying here. For all we know, it could bequite some time. "Hot or iced?""Hot, please.""Ah, I see you do have some manners," I say as I reach up to grab a mug.He chuckles, and the sound goes through me like a ray of warm sunshine. Ipour the brew into the mug before moving a hand over to the sweeteners."How do you like it?" Immediately, my cheeks redden, because I'm a 12-year-old and my hormones are unhinged. God, save me. My brain and bodyget into a tug-of-war, but this man is not it, body. Move on and stop looking.Not even close.With a knowing smirk, he quirks an eyebrow and my cheeks hit summerin-August levels of heat before he answers. "Cream and one sugar."Handing him over the warm mug, he lifts it in thanks before taking a sipand sitting next to Sara. Instinctively, my entire body tenses in a slight panic.The thing about Sara is she is not a morning person. She's the kind ofperson who you just feed and leave alone until at least an hour after waking.If you don't treat her with extreme ease, it can put her in a foul mood for theentire day. I've seen it play out time and time again, and I'm not ashamed toadmit I've taken some extreme measures to accomplish this feat.Leaning over to look into her bowl, he grabs a raspberry off the top of heryogurt, lifting it to pop it in his mouth."Stop it! I was saving that!" Sara yells in a way only a cranky, not-quitetween can. The voice is already reminiscent of not only anger and frustrationbut exhausted preteen emotional baggage."Hey, quit it, she just woke up," I say, wading in to avoid catastrophewhile throwing daggers at Hunter with my eyes.By the grace of God, he drops the berry and raises hands in a placatingmanner. Crisis averted. "My bad, didn't realize you were so cranky in themorning, Sar Bear." My eyes roll to the ceiling, silently begging for strengthand patience."She's always cranky in the morning," Rosie pipes in and my head whipsto her with angry, warning eyes."Am not!" I sigh, looking at her, knowing it's about to go bad quick andsomething needs to be done, ASAP."Hey, Sara, babe, you're almost done. Why don't you finish up and thenwatch a show for a few minutes in the family room, yeah?" This must bedone carefully, like defusing a ticking time bomb. A pre-teen time bomb, fullof over-inflated emotions and hormones galore.Thoughts and emotions fly past her eyes before she settles on acceptance.She nods and takes her last bite before rinsing her bowl and heading into thefamily room."Seriously, is that necessary? It's her last day of school." I glare at theother adult in the room. Because while I'm annoyed with Rosie, who knowsbetter, Hunter is an adult who shouldn't be picking on a 9-year-old little girlfirst thing in the morning."Oh, chill out, it's not that big of a deal. Right, Rosie? She was just acrank pot." Thank God Sara is out of earshot because it's the kind of thingthat would set her off in a second. Where Rosie is the drama queen of thetwo, Sara is usually super easygoing. But awful mornings can really messwith that vibe."You know what, how about you let me do my job and you can do the fununcle shtick when I'm not around, okay?" His eyebrow quirks in a challenge,seemingly shocked I would say anything like that. To be fair, I also amutterly shocked.Instead of dwelling, I turn to the instigator. "Rosie, that wasn't kind. Youknow how she is in the morning." Rosie looks a little guilty, while Hunterlooks confused. Officially not in the mood to banter, my hands clap togetherwhen his mouth opens, cutting him off. "Okay, come on, finish up so we canget ready for the last day of school!"Little hands excitedly shovel food into her mouth before running upstairsto go get ready while I turn my back and fully ignore Mr. Hutchins. But hisgaze burns on my back as he sips his coffee, trying to figure me out.Good luck with that.WITH MY CHARGES dressed in their last day of school shirts, I grab lunchboxes and backpacks, rushing them out of the door to get to the bus stop.Turning to grab my bag and keys, I'm stopped by Mr. Button Pusher himself.Honestly, I've already had enough of him, and to make sure he doesn't gocomplaining to Autumn, I've decided ignoring is the best way to handle him."Excuse me." I attempt to go around him, still ignoring the asshole."Hey, wait." He grabs my bicep as I pass. "Sorry for bugging Sara thismorning," Some of my frustration melts away. He doesn't have kids of hisown and one can assume he doesn't spend much time with them. He has noclue about the ins and outs of dealing with little personalities. "But you reallycan't baby her. She's just like how Autumn used to be in the mornings, sheeventually grew out of it." Annnndd my frustration is back again, but timesfive."Except Sara being in a bad mood doesn't just impact Sara. It brings theentire morning to a standstill, and on the kid's last day, it's not what we'regoing for. But thanks for telling me how to do my job." It's easy to see mytone is bothering him, but I don't care."I wasn't telling you how to do your job. I was just giving you somefriendly advice. Sara is just like my sister and I grew up with her. I'm anexpert at dealing with it," he says, still blocking my way. The girls arestanding on the grass in the yard, waiting for me to walk them to the bus stop.I shoot them a smile before looking at Hunter with a painfully fake smile."Great, thanks, noted. Can you please move out of the way? I need to getthe kids to the bus stop so they're not late." Once again, I try to get past him,but now his arm is around my waist, pulling me close to him. In his eyes is afire whose source I can't quite pinpoint. Is it anger? Or something..."Babe, calm down. It won't kill them to be late." His voice is soft andsultry. How does this man both give me tingles and infuriate me beyondbelief?"It's important for kids to be on time to school." He thankfully releasesme and lets me move so I can walk past. "Thank you. Bye, Hunter." I make itdown one concrete step, almost free, but he grabs my wrist, stopping meagain."Lighten up, it's the last day of school, who cares. You're not their mom,no need to get all worked up about it when you're just the nanny." Target hit.The pain of his words shocks me, a sharp lance to my gut knowing he's right,of course. I'm not their mom. I never want to be their mom - they have agreat one. But it doesn't mean what he says, what I hear whispered fromstrangers with cruel intent when I'm out with the girls, doesn't kill. I lovethese girls with my all, and the snide remarks dig deep. I yank on my armhard, tugging my wrist free from his grip with a sharp pain, looking him inthe eye. He immediately recognizes his mistake, but I do not fucking care."Shit, Han-""Got it. I'll be sure to take your advice to heart. I have to go be the nannyand get the girls to the bus," I say, cutting him off as I stomp down the stairs,gathering the kids and walking to the bus stop."HE'S SUCH A FUCKING DICK, SADIE." My lifelong bestie sets an icedAmericano in front of me, made the exact way I like it. Extra ice, a pump ofvanilla, a splash of cream.It's after the bus drop off and I'm sitting at the coffee shop workspaceSadie opened four years ago. It has a traditional barista bar with a selection ofpastries from the bakery downtown on one side. On the other side are half adozen cubicles customers can sit in using their monthly membership cards towork in privacy with all the benefits of an office. The space is a mix ofnatural dark wood, an homage to the woods surrounding our little town,bright white paint, and large open windows which let in tons of natural light.On the counter next to the register, Sadie creates a beautiful display ofdelicious treats each morning, each item on gorgeous, unique cake stands andplatters we've found over the years at thrift shops.After seeing the kids on to the bus, I hopped right into my car, not goingback into the house as I usually do. Thank God I had my keys and wallet withme, a sheer brush of luck since I never bring more than my cell with me."Yeah, that blows. Everyone knows you love those nuggets to death, andyou know Autumn and Steve see you like family, not just the nanny."If there's anyone on this earth I can bitch to unabashedly and withoutjudgment, it's Sadie. She's more sister than friend and we've seen each otherthrough every up and down life has thrown our way."I know. It just hit me differently. I don't know why I let it bother me. It'snot the first time I've heard it. And, while he's Autumn's brother, it's not likehe's involved with them or knows what it takes day-to-day.""Is he hot?" Sadie asks, making my head whip up to her."What? Sadie! That is totally irrelevant. He's a jerk!""Oh, it's relevant. And girl, the blush you've got going right now givesme alllll the answers I need." Hands to my burning cheeks, I glare at her."Sadie, stop. He's not hot. He's my boss's brother, for God's sake.""Shut up, you know Autumn is more of a sister than she is a boss.""So then he's like my brother? That's creepy.""Don't change the subject. Hold on, let me Google him, I'll get the finalsay." Out comes her phone, and she taps on the screen with purpose.I'm not sure what comes over me when my hands shoot out over thebarista bar to grab her phone. "This is insane. Stop, Sadie." Unfortunately,she steps back past my reach, and stares at me, still holding that cursedphone."Han, the fact you're so fluttered just by my Googling this man says it all.He must be..." Search complete, Sadie looks at her phone. She looks at me.Then back at her phone. Then back at me. "Holy shit, Han, he is a fuckinggod among men!"Realizing defeat, my head meets the reclaimed wood bar we refinished byhand when Sadie opened the cafe and workspace. It took us four whole daysto do and while I cursed her the entire time, it came out gorgeous. I bang myhead a few extra times for good measure before she slips a coaster betweenmy head and the bar. Mumbled words slip from my mouth."What was that?" She laughs at my misery. My head is still down when Imumble another response. "I can't hear you, babe."I lift my head. "I said, he's got a beard now." Once again, my head hitsthe bar, but not before seeing Sadie throw her head back and cackle, long,blonde curls tumbling backward. She knows where my weaknesses land anda masculine, lumberjack-esque, smokin' hot guy is just my type."Oh God, this is priceless! The brother is your fucking hot guy dreamman. I cannot with this perfection." She wipes her eyes once her laughter diesdown. Not only is frustration burning through me, but now everyone in thecafe is staring at me. Crippling embarrassment has entered the chat."Sadie, shut up, you're making a scene," I say through gritted teeth. "Thisis not funny.""Oh, it is. Trust me. It's hilarious. I can't wait to call Abbie and tell her.""Sadie, I swear, if you call my sister, I will cut holes in your vintageStones tee.""You wouldn't." Her eyes are wide with horror, knowing damn well Iwill do it if she crosses me. We found the t-shirt while thrifting shopping andshe wears it at least once a week. It's her lucky shirt, and it even got heronstage during a Fall Out Boy concert a few years back."Try me bitch." She rolls her hazel eyes before handing me a large to-gocup with my second dose of iced Americano and a tea for Maggie."Yeah, but who would supply you with your fix, for free?" A smirk is onher pretty, full lips before her voice gentles. "Look, I know what he said washarsh, especially coming from a practical stranger. But you have made Saraand Rosie your world. Maybe it's time to figure out why.""They're not my whole life. I have the Center. I have you and Luna, Ihave Abs. And I'm happy with my life the way it is.""Babe, you know what I mean. The Center doesn't count since you'vefinagled your schedule so that any time you're not with Autumn's kids,you're with the kids at the Center. You spend every moment of your lifetaking care of other people, trying to protect yourself and prove yourself. Youneed to step back and realize you're already perfect, the way we all do.There's no need to run yourself ragged.""I love you Sade, but I'm not doing this today." This is not the first timeSadie has given me this lecture. While it comes from a good place, she knowswhy I do what I do. She was there through the missed recitals anddisappointment and verbal tear-downs. She raises her hands as her white flag."Okay, okay, I'm not gonna push it. I'm just sayin', the way I hope youwould if the roles were reversed.""Oh, yeah? You want me to Dr. Phil you next? I'd love to crack open mynotes on all of your issues." I laugh, knowing she has her demons she'sfighting."Alright that's it, get your ass out of my store before you're late for theCenter."Looking at my watch with a smile, I grab my bag from the floor beforeleaning over to hug her over the bar. "Love you, Sade, see you soon." There'ssomething to say about a friend who you can throw under the bus one second,and hug the next."Love you too. Go bang that man!" Turning without acknowledging her, Iflip her the bird as my feet hit the sidewalk, still hearing her laugh as the doorshuts behind me.THE CENTER IS AN OLD, time-scarred brick building at the center oftown. It used to be the old middle school before they rebuilt it across townand it's seen better days. If you know where to look, you can still see thebomb shelter notices from when it served the town as a haven, just in case.On the side facing the main road, there's a bright and colorful mural with abeach theme I worked on with the kids last summer. The sidewalks are linedwith chalk drawings, waiting for a rainy day to leave a fresh, blank canvas.About twice a year we host big fundraisers to fund improvements to thestructure, but the programs need funding too. I work here part-time, thoughMaggie is constantly nudging me to go full-time. My involvement started as avolunteer position years ago, right out of high school, and I just never left.Eventually, I was added on as one of the few official year-long employeesand it's a position I hold with passion and pride.The front lawn is looking overgrown, reminding me to make a call overto Chip's landscaping and ask if they can donate their services again thisyear. Our old yellow bus used to take campers on the few outings we canfund each summer has peeling paint. Maybe this summer a bus mural wouldbe a fun project.Sighing at the long, ever-growing list of to-do's, I jog up the three frontsteps to the big, red steel doors, pulling the heavy metal back with effort. Myfoot kicks the chunk of wood we use as a doorstop underneath to prop itopen."Hiya, hun!" Maggie has the friendliest smile known to man as I turn thecorner to her office. The tiny cluttered room is more closet than office withevery surface stacked high with papers and folders. On one wall there's a bigRosie the Riveter poster and on the desk sits a massive computer monitorMags refuses to upgrade.Maggie is in her early seventies and never grew out of her flower childphase. Her dark grey hair is to her mid-back, today braided with a headbandWillie Nelson style with small, fresh flowers placed between the pleats. Thewarm weather has her in a loose, flowery skirt and a gypsy top, bothoutrageously patterned. Her arms are full of bracelets and bangles, a mix ofbraided friendship threads and beaded masterpieces made by the kids thatcreate a symphony when she moves her arms. She is one of my favoritepeople in the whole wide world."Hey, Mags, how's it going?" I say, walking over and hugging her. Shesmells like baby powder and lavender, the same scent she held 20 years agowhen Abbie and I first started to escape to the Center whenever we could. It'salso how we met Luna, who is Maggie's niece. I truly have so much to thankthis place for, a debt that will never be fully paid."Just peachy! The sun is shining, summer is here, and I haven't gotten anordinance notice in at least a month!" I can't help but giggle at her, handingover the tea Sadie sent me over with. We occasionally get notices fromgrumpy neighbors. Our building is an eyesore, the kids are too loud, that kindof thing."From Sadie, she sends her love." Her hand reaches out, grabbing thepaper cup."You girls are too good to this old hag.""Hush, you're not old, Mags. Or a hag.""Not in heart, and that's all that matters, Hannah Banana." She has herreading glasses on her nose, the flowered chain hanging behind her neck. Infront of her is a stack of papers."What's this?" I ask, noticing the logo on top as one of the localbusinesses that donate shirts to the summer campers each year.Maggie sighs. "Just a letter from the shirt donors, confirming they won'tbe able to provide the shirts this year." Setting the letter down, she takes herglasses from her nose, letting them dangle at her chest. "It's been a toughyear for businesses."Doing mental gymnastics, my list of people who might take the spot flitsthrough my head. "That's a bummer. Let me call around and see if we canfind a substitute." If it comes down to it, I have my secret savings account forthe shirts. Maggie would never accept, of course, so I'll have to be crafty, butthose kids deserve everything we can give them.When Mags first demanded I become a paid employee at the Center, Ifought it for years. It just didn't feel right to take money for doing somethingI love, taking funds away from the kids. What she doesn't know is everypenny I've earned here has gone into a savings account. Autumn and Stevepay me beyond a fair wage and with little to no overhead, I truly don't needthe money.The savings account is for my dream project: a camp to help children ofpoor circumstances process their trauma in nature. A place where they canlearn to open themselves up, survive in the woods, and just be content withlife without phones or TV or the internet. The counselors would be therapists,mental health experts, social workers, all to help kids overcome and learncoping mechanisms.Just like Mags did for me.Unfortunately, that account gets used more often than I'd like, sinceanytime the Center can't afford something, I 'donate' it."I'm getting too old for this, Banana," Maggie says, leaning back in herchair. We have this conversation at least once a week. She's been groomingme to take over as director of The Springbrook Hills Center for Kids andFamilies. The Center saved me and gave me love that I so desperately neededmore times in my childhood than I'd like to acknowledge, but I still have acommitment to Autumn and the girls. Even though Maggie has promised shewould work with me on a schedule revolving around being there for the kids,I'm just not ready to take the leap."Stop it, you're young at heart, remember? You just told me that."Turning my back to her, I attack the stack of filing folders and papers,attempting some semblance of organization. There's no use - even if it'spristine before leaving, it will be a disaster by morning."You know I love this place, but chasing donors, keeping up withmaintenance, the planning, the programs, organizing volunteers... I'm tired,girl." The exhaustion in her voice makes me turn and has me looking at hercloser. Deeper eye circles, more frazzled hair than normal, her clothesslightly askew. My heart sinks like a stone, realizing what I've ignored overthe past few months. She's exhausted and worn thin, for real this time."Are you... are you thinking of retiring?" My stomach pitches, anxiousfor her answer."I'm not sure. I don't think so - who would take over?" she says, givingme a pointed look.Sighing, I look at her. "You know I can't right now, Mags. The kids... Ineed to be there for them. I wouldn't want them to feel like they aren't mypriority. But this summer I'll be here as often as possible and we can getthings off your plate more. Get you some time off, a vacation even." Thisyear the girls are attending the Center's summer program, which means Ihave more time to spend here during camp."I know, sweetheart. Not tryna guilt you, just know you would thrivehere. Autumn and Steve would bend over backward to make whatever youwanted happen. Whether it was working here or some other bigger dream ofyours." What is with everyone today telling me my life could be more, bigger,better.I'm happy with my life. Really, I am. I love the kids, love my friends. Ilove my little house. Could I use some more cuddling? Sure. Would anunassisted orgasm here or there be nice? Of course. But my life is far fromfalling short. Right?"We'll figure it out, Maggie. What can I do for you today before I need toget the kiddos?" It's a thinly veiled attempt to change the subject, but shealways gives me what I need. Maggie gives me a tired, knowing smile."Come on, hun, I'm sure we can find 101 things for you to do aroundhere before you have to pick up those girls." She leads the way and, just like Idid when I was eight, I follow, eager to learn from her.I'M GETTING dinner started later that night while the kids play outside.They're running crazy in circles, playing cops and robbers and giggling, thesound making my soul light. With the giant French doors leading outside, Ican watch them while I dump marinade and chicken into a big bag to sit forthe grill. These are the kind of nights that give me a glimpse into the future Idream of. Quiet evenings waiting for my husband to come home, kidsgiggling and running around while I get dinner together. A simple life filledwith love and happiness.While the life I'm living now isn't quite that, it's a far cry from adisappointment. My head turns to the stairs to see Autumn making her waydown from the office.As always, she's wearing a gorgeous outfit, perfectly tailored cropped tanslacks and a flouncy blush-colored blouse, her hair falling in pin-straightsheets down her back, looking like the perfect business executive. But likealways when she's home, she's barefoot, ditching the sky-high heels shewears into the office. In her hands is a bottle of wine with a piece of greenpaper taped to it. When she enters the kitchen, she stops in front of the islandI'm working on and plops the bottle in front of me with a satisfying clunk anda goofy grin on her face."For me? What for?" I ask, picking it up and smiling back at her."Yes, for you, but not from me. It's from my brother." She leans on thecounter, wiggling her eyebrows. The tag on the bottle, if you can even call itthat, is torn construction paper and red crayon stuck there with a princesssticker I recognize from Rosie's stash.I'M a dick. - HWELL, that's interesting."Okay, I need to know. What the fuck happened!? Why was he a dick?"Autumn now is leaning with her chin in her hands, "Tell me everything!" It'simpossible not to laugh at her antics. "Do I need to kick my little brother'sass? I swear, if he does anything to upset you, he's out of here.""Oh God, nothing. It wasn't a big deal. He said something not so nice andI guess he felt bad. To be honest, I probably overreacted, but it was afternarrowly avoiding a Sara morning, so I was already irritable," I explain. Aftermy vent sesh with Sadie and an afternoon at the Center, the whole situation isso much clearer. Hunter is under an incredible amount of pressure with hisfather sick and the new location Autumn has told me about. Not to mention,the morning chaos can make my grating perfectionist tendencies come out. Itdoesn't excuse what he said, but it was clear even then he didn't say it to hurtme."Well, he came into my office today and looked like shit. Guilt written allover his face. I've seen that look before. Asked what you drink and cameback with this.""Oh, so you told him I like your favorite wine?""Hey, I know you like it too, you're just too cheap to buy it yourself. Sospill. I need details. It must have been bad, to get him to actually leave thehouse." Wheels are turning in her mind, wheels that need to find a detourASAP. I don't want to get him in hot water with his sister over somethingsilly.Why does he care if he offended me? Is it because he knows he'll bearound this summer, so we're going to cross paths? Is he just trying tosmooth things out before it gets unbearable? Why disrupt his day to run outand grab me an apology gift? The day before he was in his office all daylong, so it's not like he has free time to kill."Seriously, it was just something dumb. He was taunting Sara, not beingmean, but you know how she is in the morning.""Oh, God, did she lose it? Not on her last day!" Autumn's eyes are wide,knowing how her oldest daughter can be first thing in the morning."No, crisis averted. But you know how it is - if you've never experienceda Sara morning you'd never know how bad it could be. He thought I wasoverreacting and was being an instigator, even got Rosie in on it." I choosenot to tell her about what he said. She doesn't need to know all of myinsecurities."Ugh, my brother's a dick. I'm so sorry, Hannah, I'll have a talk withhim.""Oh God, please don't. I really don't want to make this awkward."Autumn stares at me, her honed mom senses digging deep to decide if sheshould push or drop it. Thankfully, she drops it."Fine. So, are you gonna pour me a glass?" Her head tips towards thebottle. Rolling my eyes, I grab two glasses and walk out back so we can sit inthe sun and watch the kids run around. The patio area was finished twosummers ago and as soon as the weather gets nice, I try to spend as muchtime as possible out here."How are things going?" I ask once we both settle in, deliberatelykeeping my question general so she can fill in what she's comfortable with.So much is going on between work, her brother, and her dad that I don't wantto be another pushy burden on her.Autumn sighs. "Alright. Dad is stable, Hunter is here, the kids are headedinto another great summer with the world's best nanny." I smile at her but herreturn smile looks forced and tired. She's drained."You're too sweet, Aut," I say, not pushing the conversation. When she'sready to unload, she will. We sit in comfortable silence for a bit. It's the kindof silence you sit in with someone you've seen almost every day for sixyears. We've seen each other in our best and at our worst. Because of that,it's easy to know when to push a conversation and when to drop it. I'm notsimply the help here. Autumn and I are genuine friends and Steve is like a bigbrother to me. I imagine the love I feel for the girls is how an aunt would feel.Eventually, she breaks the silence. "Look, I know you said it's no bigdeal, but if anything happens with my brother again, please let me know.You're too polite for your own good, but I have no problem kicking his ass."I spit out my wine, laughing at the unexpected remark. "Uh, okay, Aut," Ilaugh, coughing. Autumn is maybe five foot two whereas Hunter is at leastsix feet tall, so the mental image alone is enough to provoke a giggle."Fine, I'll have Steve kick his ass." She laughs, and this I believe. Thatman would lie in NYC traffic for her if she asked him to, and then go to Riseand Grind to get her a latte. "Seriously Hannah. I love my brother, but if hecauses any issues, having you here for the kids comes first," she says, lookingme in the eye."Thanks, Autumn. I will, I promise. I'm sure it will be fine. It wasn't abig deal." She looks me in the eye, assessing with her signature mom glare asif I'm telling the truth, before nodding. A beat of silence passes."But he is a major dick," I say, and we both throw our heads backlaughing, while the kids run and giggle, trying to catch the first lightningbugs of the season