Hate You Not

“For stuff like what?” I smile at my own drawl, which is pronounced because I’ve been up late the last two nights doing some planting logistics.

“For picking up the pieces. Gluing all the broken stuff together. You’re real good at that. You know you are, too.”

“I just try my best.”

“Your best is always good.”

I look down at my plate, pushing some rice onto my fork.

U always been June who saves the day?

I clench my jaw. He doesn’t really know me, and he’s never going to. He lives in San Francisco and I live here. And anyway, it’s not like that between us. It’s just pent-up…what did I say? Pent up loathing.

“I hope he’ll stay away from here for a good, long while,” I murmur.

Leah laughs. “What does that mean?”

Oh shit. I shake my head. Guess I voiced that thought out loud.Chapter 20JuneWe fall into a routine. I’m a creature of habit, and I take my shower every night around seven o’clock, just after dinner and our reading time. As soon as I close the bathroom door, Oliver calls Burke, and I can hear the rise and fall of the kids’ sweet little voices as they talk to him.

Once, I’m pretty sure I hear Margot talk about my bath robe—how it’s silky. Another night, they tell him how I shut my fingers in the car door as we hauled the groceries in that afternoon. I don’t know what he says. I tell myself I don’t care. When he texts asking how my fingers are, I reply: Just fine, thank you for asking.

It takes a few minutes, but my Southern manners override my common sense.

I hope you’re well yourself, I text.

Just fine. :)

I’m glad to see he’s decided that he’ll act appropriate. And so will I. We’re the aunt and uncle—and not the couple kind.

About a week after that exchange, Margot falls from the jungle gym at school and has to get a little butterfly bandage on her forehead where she hit it on the bar. She wants to FaceTime Burke from the car when we get done with Dr. Keller, before we leave the parking lot.

I set the call up for her even though it’s early afternoon by San Francisco time.

He answers on the third ring.

“Hey there, princess.”

“Look!” Her eyes well as she points to the white tape. “I hurt my head.”

“Oh no…what happened to it?”

She tells him the whole long saga, and I start to drive back toward the school, where we’ve still got to pick up Oliver at three. I’m zoned out, trying to focus on the road, where it’s just started raining, when I hear her say, “my birthday.”

Right. Both of Sutton’s kids have birthdays in the month of May. Oliver’s is May 4 and Margot’s is May 29.

“Are you coming to our party?” she asks Burke.

“Well I don’t know. When is it going to be?”

“We’ll have it when you’re coming. You can pick what day!”

And just like that…the gorgeous villain I don’t trust myself to be around has plans to come back for a little visit.BURKE“I’m sure.” I nod, my scruff scratching the phone’s screen. I tilt it away from my cheek. “Yeah.” It comes out sounding gruffer than I meant, so I try to sound chipper as I add, “I liked the photos of the staging.”

I lean against the column beside the rows of leather seats outside my airline terminal as the woman rambles, trying to change my mind about dropping by to see how she’s transformed the house I’m selling. I shut my eyes and rub my forehead, wishing she somehow knew what she was asking. Even though I’m hella grateful that she doesn’t.

“I’m sure it’s great,” I say again. “In any event, I’m flying out right now for something in Atlanta, so I’ll have to trust you. The pictures don’t lie. Your team did a nice job.”

I rub my eyes more as she babbles. Some people just don’t know when to end a conversation.

“Yes,” I tell her. “The realtor—you and Becky know each other— She should get in touch with you today. And thank you again, Sally.”

People start to get up from their seats and line up at the terminal. I end the call in time to join them.

I hate to leave the office with so much going on right now—the app is at a vital stage, where we’ve got to develop a few things in a small time window to move forward without spending too much—but I will, for Oliver and Margot. I can only be gone two days, so I’m flying out now—at six o’clock on a Friday—and will fly back on a red-eye Sunday night.

I’ll work the whole flight, which should be easy enough in first class, and when I land, June’s brother Shawn is picking me up. I didn’t ask him to; he texted and offered. Told me I can borrow his Jeep when I’m in town. Nice dude. Seems like everyone in June’s family is more friendly than her, but I think I’m starting to see through her prickly act.