Me: Miss you too, Ree.

Dealing with my family at Sunday dinner is worth it if it means a chance to win over my ice-loving trivia queen.

Unfortunately, that’s not what the universe had in mind for me, because instead of staying in the Hudson Valley for the weekend, I get a call from my landlord that has me racing back to the place I’ve called home for the past six months: my apartment near the CCE Erie County offices. Instead of spending the weekend trying to woo Diane, I end up dealing with the aftermath of a burst water pipe in my ceiling.

Good news is I won’t have to break my lease to take the transfer. Bad news—or more good news depending on how you look at it—all the fancy suits I bought on Congento’s dime are toast. Along with most of my furniture and half my books.

Also, I completely forget about Sunday dinner until I wake up Monday morning to a string of texts from my sister.

Colleen: Sam, where are you?

Colleen: Are you coming to dinner or not?

Colleen: This is not good.

Colleen: Dammit, Sam. Call me. You’d better have a good reason for missing this.

Colleen: Are you dead? You’d better not be dead.

Groaning, I type out an apology.

Me: Sorry, sorry. I had to go back to Buffalo

Colleen: I thought you were coming to Sunday dinner.

Me: My apartment flooded

Me: Most of my stuff is ruined

Colleen: So are your chances with Diane.

Me: What are you talking about

Colleen: Did you or did you not have a thing with her?

Me: How do you know about that

Colleen: So the answer is yes!

Elton John starts up, and I realize I left my sister hanging. I don’t want to face the twin interrogation, but I do want to know what she meant about me losing my chance with Diane.

She starts talking the moment I accept the call. “The dinner you missed? It was one for the record books.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ethan and Alex got into a huge fight.”

“They were both there?” From what I’ve gathered, Alex hasn’t shown up for Sunday dinner—an important tradition for our grandmother—for years. Not that I have either, but at least I, like our youngest brother Jackson, have the excuse of living and working elsewhere. Alex lives just down the road.

“It was a total shitshow, Sam-Dan.”

When my kindergarten-teaching sister curses and uses my childhood nickname, I know things are bad. I no longer have a couch, so I lean on the kitchen counter as Gomer presses against my leg. “What happened?”

She groans. “Everything our brothers have been mad about for the past ten years got dredged up. Right in front of Diane. She made some excuses and left before anyone got up this morning. Gran’s really upset.”

Before I can ask if they know where she went, my sister adds, “You should’ve been here, Sam.”

I cough out a laugh. “Believe me, if I’d been there, it would’ve been worse.”

There’s a long silence, and I pull my phone from my ear, thinking that the call got dropped. It’s still live, so I put it on speaker. “You still there?”

“Sam-Dan, why do you hate us so much?”

Suddenly so tired I can barely hold up my head, I set my phone on the counter, take off my glasses, and slump onto my forearms. I used to tell my sister everything. Everything G-rated, anyway. But ever since I quit Congento and fought with my grandfather, I haven’t been able to.

“Sam?”

“I’m here.”

“I really do miss you, Sam-Dan.”

“I know. Me too.”

And then it becomes clear. It’s bad enough that Grandad died hating me. I don’t want the rest of my family thinking that I hate them. It’s probably a good thing that Diane left again, though, because mending my family’s fences is not going to be pretty.

“I have to finish out my assignment here, Colleen. But then I’m coming home.”

CHAPTER 7SAM

Having said goodbye to my colleagues in the CCE Erie County offices, I arrive for Sunday dinner only a month later than I’d planned, with what’s left of my belongings in bags and boxes in the back of my truck. After I put Gomer in a sit-stay on the porch, I squat in front of him and run my hands over his soft fur. “Wish you could come inside and keep me calm, buddy. But I’m trying to play by the rules.”

After all that, I’m a little disappointed when the only person I find inside is Ethan’s new/old girlfriend Lia. At least when she looks up from chopping vegetables, she smiles at me.

“Gran put you to work?” I ask.

“She’s downstairs picking herbs for the chicken salad.”

Lia’s cheeks are a nice rosy pink. She’s looking a heck of a lot healthier than she did when she showed up at the reading of my grandfather’s will last winter. I’m trying to figure out if it’s rude to comment on that, when she hands me a bunch of carrots. “So you’re back in town now too?”

As I scrub and peel them, we fill each other in on the job changes that brought each of us back to Fork Lick.

“Sounds like you really love what you’re doing these days,” she says.

“It’s super rewarding. I’m only making a fraction of what I did at Congento, but who needs money?”