lying in his bed, staring out the window into that pretty backyard, thinking that for once, something spectacular was happening for her. That it was finally her turn.
It wasn’t her turn at all. She wondered if it would ever be her turn. “We are, like, the two most unlucky people on the planet, aren’t we?”
He chuckled darkly. “If we’re not, we’ve got to be running a close second or third.”
They didn’t say any more than that.
There didn’t seem to be anything more to say.
Twenty
When Sunday afternoon rolled around, and Max and Jamie arrived at Evelyn’s home, Max could not deny that Dad and Evelyn looked like a couple in love. Their happiness had taken years off his dad’s face and Max was happy for him. But, like Carly, he was also a bit resentful. Why this now?
He and Jamie had come with flowers. Jamie thrust the bouquet at his dad, but his dad said, “I think you meant those for Evelyn, didn’t you, Jamie?”
“Loyal Dad,” Jamie said, and thrust them at his dad again.
“That’s okay,” Evelyn said, and took the bouquet. “Aren’t they lovely! That was so considerate of you!” She suddenly surged forward and kissed Max on the cheek as if she’d known him for ages instead of days. And then she made the mistake of trying to do the same with Jamie. Jamie made a sound of alarm and ducked out of the way.
“Oh. I beg your pardon,” Evelyn said. She twirled around and disappeared into her house with her flowers.
“It’s all right, Jamie,” his dad said, his voice full of warning. “Come in, you two.”
Evelyn’s house, just around the corner from a shopping center with a Target as the anchor, was much bigger than the Sheffington house. The yard was filled with bird feeders and fountains. It occurred to Max that he didn’t know where his dad and Evelyn were going to live. He had a hard time picturing his father here. He was an old Austin kind of guy. North Austin seemed like the land of PTA and retail sales and neighborhood restrictions.
The house had a sunken living room and an expansive view of the yard. Evelyn’s tastes were definitely antique and formal. Far too formal for the Sheffington boys. His mother used to say the one thing she would never have on this earth was fine furniture, because why would she pay all that money on something her boys were going to break?
He could hear that somewhere in the house there were children, and then suddenly, they burst forth, three of them streaking by, one of them screaming at the other two. Jamie caught Max’s arm. He was humming to himself, a technique he’d been taught along the way to calm his nerves.
A woman, blond and petite like Evelyn, but who resembled Carly in her features, emerged from the kitchen in the company of a tall, athletic Asian American man. “Hi!” she said, striding forward, her hand outstretched. “I’m Mia. Soon to be your new sister!” She laughed. “My husband, Will, and those three hellions are Finn, Bo, and Millie.”
“Very nice to meet you,” Max said, and shook Will’s hand. “This is my brother, Jamie.”
Jamie turned the other way, avoiding eye contact.
“Who’s here?” a male voice shouted from the hallway.
“That’s Trace, my brother,” Mia said as a man walked into the living room. He was dark haired, like Carly, with a stocky frame. “But don’t worry about remembering him. He only comes at Christmas.”
“It’s not Christmas now, and I’m here, aren’t I?” Trace looked at Max, sizing him up. “So you’re Toby’s son?”
“Sons,” Max said, indicating Jamie. He wondered if any of them had noticed Jamie’s humming. He sure did—it was getting louder.
Trace studied Jamie for a moment, then seemed to remember himself. “Good to meet you.” He shook Max’s hand, then tried to shake Jamie’s. Jamie ducked behind Max.
“He’ll warm up to you,” Max said apologetically. “New things take some time.”
“Max, darling, would you like something to drink?” Evelyn trilled from the doorway to the kitchen.
So he was a darling now. Congratulations, your stepmother thinks you’re darling. “No, thank you,” Max said.
Trace’s phone rang, and he took the call, moving away from them to the windows.
“Are you sure?” Evelyn asked. “This is a celebration! Gin and tonic?”
“Max isn’t much of a drinker,” his dad said, appearing at Evelyn’s side. “But he’ll take a beer. Won’t you, Max?”
“Sure,” Max said. He didn’t want a damn beer.
“I’ll get it,” his dad said. He kissed Evelyn, and