They love you.”
I smile at her. “I love them, too.”
She beams at that. “Well, I’m sure they’ll keep you occupied until dinner’s ready.”
“Where’s Rose?” I ask, not hearing any babbling from the baby.
“She’s taking a nap. She’ll be awake soon enough and your dad had to run to the store. I didn’t have enough milk or butter. Can you believe that?” She hangs her head in shame.
“Come on, Zo.” Isaac squeezes my hand. “We want to show you the zombies.”
I let the boys take me to their playroom and reluctantly agree to battle the zombies.
They both burst out into laughter when a zombie scares me and I scream, falling to the ground.
“Dad!” Gabe giggles. “The zombie scared her so bad.”
I ease off the headset and find my dad standing in the open doorway of the room with a smile on his face, my heart tugging when I see the love in his eyes for me, for them. I shoved that love in his face for way too long. I remember a long-ago conversation, one we had when he told me he was dating Allison, and I screamed at him over and over again about how much I hated him.
I must have broken his heart.
It’s the way I felt at the time, I was a hurt teenager, but now I see things so incredibly different.
I guess that’s what they mean when they say hindsight is twenty-twenty.
“That’s because zombies are terrifying.” I smooth my hair down.
My dad chuckles. “I’m glad you’re here, Zo-Bug.”
Getting off the floor where I fell when I turned around to find a rotting green zombie face right beside me, I give him a hug. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
His eyes warm and he hugs me back. “Are you guys good here? Rosie is awake so I’m going to grab her.”
I bite my lip. “Do you mind if I get her?”
His eyes widen. I never have anything to do with the baby. I’m not much a baby person, much preferring kids that can actually talk and tell me what they need versus an infant who just babbles.
“Um, yeah.” He jerks his head in a nod. “You can get her if you want. She’ll probably need her diaper changed, though.”
I crinkle my nose. Diapers. Ew.
“I can handle it.”
“And then you’ll play with us some more?” Isaac asks.
“Dinner’s almost ready.” Our dad ruffles his hair. “You can play more after if Zoey doesn’t have anywhere else to be.”
“I have plenty of time to play,” I assure my brothers, seeing my dad’s grin out of the corner of my eye. “I better get the baby.”
Excusing myself from the playroom, I head upstairs to the nursery, easing the door open quietly. The room is dark from blackout curtains and a sound machine plays rainfall. I turn a light on, drawing closer to the crib where the baby kicks her legs happily.
She coos when she sees me. “Hi, Rose.” I reach down, rubbing her tummy.
She gives me a funny look, her smile disappearing.
“I know you don’t see me a lot and I’m sorry about that. I’m your sister. Zoey. Or Zo. Whatever you want to call me is fine. I mean, it’s not like you can say any of that yet.”
She babbles as if she’s trying to say I might not speak your language, but I speak mine.
I think she even gives a gurgled, “Da,” but I’m not sure whether it’s random or intentional.
I’m truly clueless when it comes to babies.
Reaching down, I scoop her up and she gives a small cry but settles down as soon as she curls into me. Laying her down on the changing table I mutter to myself, “How do I do this?”
I don’t want to have to ask Allison or my dad for help. I’m almost twenty-one years old and should know how to change a diaper.
Having an aha! moment, I text Cole.
Me: Do you know how to change a diaper?
Cole: Yes, why?
Me: I need to change Rose’s diaper and I don’t know how. There’s probably a YouTube tutorial for this, right?
He doesn’t respond by text, instead my phone rings with a Facetime and I reluctantly answer it. “Hi,” I say, feeling pathetic for my lack of maternal instincts.
“Hey,” he chuckles, moving through his parents’ house and stepping outside. “You don’t need a tutorial. I can talk you through it.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You know how to change a diaper?”
He laughs, sitting down on the porch steps, the cheery yellow front door behind him. “I have