Chapter 23 The Past Almost two years ago Addy smells like all newborn babies do-like addiction and powder and curdled milk in the folds of their neck-as I cuddle her close to my chest, lifting her up higher every once in a while to kiss her little button nose. June sits on the rocking chair across from me that Beau moved into the living room at her request, and my brother sets down a duffel bag on a kitchen island stool behind her. I eye him with unconcealed malice. "I can't believe you're fucking leaving my best friend, six weeks after giving birth, to go on a golf trip with your stupid friends. Like, hello? Can you say grow up?" June laughs, her slightly inflamed face curling up into a smile. "It's no big deal, Ave. I gave him permission to go." "Which was a dumb move on your part. I mean, Juni, this is the time for you to milk it, my God. You just pushed this adorable little bowling ball out of your vageen. The Arby's Roast Beef will never be the same, and you're just letting him leave? I could never." I look from her back to my brother. "Does she have a fresh mani? A fresh pedi? A massage appointment every week? Do you have daily flower delivery and Starbucks DoorDashes coming every day? Because if not, dear brother, you're not doing enough." June laughs again. "I don't need my nails done to take care of a baby, Avery. All I'm doing is sitting around the house and soaking it in." "And whose fault is that?" I ask, spearing my brother with daggers again. He comes to sit at June's side, his face now worried. "Maybe she's right, Juniper June. It's only been six weeks. I don't have to go on this trip," Beau says, his eyes searching June's face. "I can stay. The guys will understand. You and Avery could go out to dinner or have a girls' weekend or something." "Yes! That's a much better idea!" I clap my hands behind Addy's little baby back, but Juniper cuts me off with an annoyingly diplomatic glare. "Don't be silly!" Juniper protests, rolling her eyes. "It's my fault that I'm just hanging at home because that's what I want to be doing. I'm soaking in every minute of this maternity leave I can and smelling as much baby skin as possible." I smell Addy again and sigh. She does smell good. "Well, that's fine. You can hang out and do nothing, but Beau should do the same." I shrug one nonchalant, I-don't-care-if-I-just-offended-you shoulder. "What? He can just go on working and galivanting like he pleases because he has a penis? I don't think so. Drop the dead weight of all three of those friends and be a man, Beau." My brother shakes his head, exhaling like he doesn't have the energy to fight me on this. "They're not dead weight. They're good friends." I chuff. It's not that they're not loyal or trustworthy or occasionally fun, but they're always around. They practically live in his pocket, like a trio of golden retrievers who refuse to go home. Things would be a lot easier if they'd just keep to themselves a little more. Then I wouldn't be tempted to go around kissing some of them all the time. "Plus, Henry really does need this trip," Beau continues, his tone a little heavier now, a little quieter. "They just diagnosed his dad with cancer, and it's...not good." My stomach drops. "Henry's dad has cancer?" My voice comes out too sharp, my spine snapping straight as a strange, unwelcome pang rolls through me. "Yeah." June's nod is sad. "They just found it, but it's already spread. They're saying a couple years at most, you know?" I force myself to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. "That sucks," I say, staring down at Addy, watching the gentle rise and fall of her tiny chest, willing my focus to stay there instead of on the heaviness settling deep inside me. Because the truth is, I don't like being wrong, and I don't like the idea of Henry being sad, as much as I hate to admit it. He's never done anything dishonest or unjust to me, the stupid fucker. In fact, I don't know that he's ever done anything wrong to anyone, really. "He's handling it okay," Beau updates, but there's a tightness to his voice, like he's trying to convince himself just as much as us. "We just figured we'd get him away for a couple days before all the treatments start. It's just him and his dad, you know? And yeah, we'll help all we can, but..." He winces, scrubbing his hand over his jaw, and I fight the sudden urge to pick up and run out of the house screaming, even with the baby in my arms. Some people get such an unfair shake at things, and from everything I know, Henry is one of them. I don't know the full story of his mom. Just that it's been him and his dad for as long as I can remember. And now, the one person who has always been there for him is slipping away. I try to shake off the sadness that threatens to clog my throat again. My gaze drops back to Addy, my fingers tracing soft circles over the warm, delicate skin of her cheek. Henry's stuff probably isn't any of my business anyway. I mean, he's just...a guy I've kissed twice. Just my brother's best friend. And that'll probably never change. Right?