Mom comes up beside me, examining the bubbling cheese. “It looks like it’s done. Did you make something different for your father? You know how he is.”
Rolling my eyes, I point toward another dish on the top rack of the oven. “I made macaroni and cheese with hamburger in it. Ainsley likes that too thanks to him.” Scrunching my nose over the combination, I check their food. “Don’t get me started on her ketchup obsession. I’m pretty sure I have Jesse to blame for that.”
Jesse and Ainsley haven’t had many interactions. The first time they met, she was young. I used to think too young to remember anything about him. But Danny, Willow, Ainsley, Jesse, and me had gone out for breakfast one day just before she’d turned three, and Jesse put ketchup over the scrambled eggs he ordered. He puts the stuff on everything, just like her. That morning, she’d asked him for some and the look on her face when she puckered from the sweet taste didn’t stop her from eating half of what was on his plate.
She’s been obsessed since.
Mom smiles at that. “He should be here soon. Ren had to work, but I know he’s looking forward to seeing you.”
Somehow, I doubt that. “That’s a shame Ren won’t be here.” Jesse texted me this morning asking if he should bring anything. He said nothing about Ren. When was the last time I saw her? I’m not even sure.
I think about what Carter told me a while ago. Are Jesse and Ren still trying to have kids? Have they been fighting? Ren seems to work every time I try making plans, and I’ve never taken it personally until now. Maybe she doesn’t want to be around me and Ainsley.
“When is your roommate coming home?”
I push the thought away and turn to my mother. She’s patiently waiting for an answer, seemingly not knowing the thought that crossed my mind before then. “Soon. He was just out running errands with his friend.”
There’s a knock at the door. Knowing it wouldn’t be Easton, I head out and smile at Ainsley and Dad on the couch. Dad’s holding a teddy bear in one hand and a doll in the other, seemingly letting them converse. Shaking my head, I open the door and find my brother staring back at me with wine in his hand.
“I told you not to bring anything,” I tell him, accepting the bottle he holds out. It would go well with the dish I made. Maybe not the macaroni and cheese, but it’s not like Dad is a wine drinker anyway. Stepping aside, he passes me and greets Dad and Ainsley. “So, Ren couldn’t make it?”
Jesse pulls off his sweatshirt and drapes it across the armchair. “Yeah, her parents are in town, so she wanted to see them.” It comes off his tongue so easily, I can’t help but blink in confusion at him.
I notice Mom from the corner of my eye, her expression sympathetic toward me. The lie is out there for me to dissect, but I choose not to call either of them out on it. Instead, it simmers silently while we proceed with the greetings. Ainsley reaches out and high fives Jesse when he offers her his palm. He and Dad catch up for a bit while I walk into the kitchen and check on the last dish.
Mom doesn’t say anything.
I don’t either.
With perfect timing, the front door opens with rattling keys. Talking pauses for a moment from the boys before they greet East. My family has met my roommate a few times. They all like him, Jesse and him always find things to talk about, Mom ogles him, and Dad is usually too busy fussing with Ainsley to pay him much attention.
About fifteen minutes later, we’re all surrounding the table together with steaming food in front of us. Easton watches Dad fill Ainsley’s plate, then notes the eagerness of Ainsley when she grabs the ketchup placed next to her and covers her plate with it. I press my lips together when he glances between her and me, not really disgusted by the addition to her food, but not impressed either.
Jesse, sitting next to Ainsley, nudges her arm with a smile. “Want more macaroni with your ketchup, kid?”
Her eyes brighten when he talks to her, and I suppress a giggle. She’s crushing on him, that much is obvious. When he takes the ketchup from her and caps the lid, he winks and takes a forkful