Tied Up in Knots (Marshals 3)

“You can’t just keep them. They’re not yours anymore!”

I glanced over at Aruna. “What is he talking about?”

“I have no earthly idea,” she said, feeding me a spoonful of the green curry she made a few days ago and brought for us to eat.

“They all love you—Aruna, Janet, Min, Catherine—and come at a moment’s notice when you call. Do you have any idea what I had to threaten Aruna with when you were in that hospital in Phoenix? She was buying herself a plane ticket when I told her that I’d tie her to the bed if she tried to leave.”

“Kinky,” I teased.

“Bowchickabowmow,” Aruna said, turning to give Liam an exaggerated wink.

He threw up his hands, which looked funny on the huge mountain of muscle that he was. “You need to cut the cord, Miro! These women are your family, yes, but they have other families now too!”

Janet slid off the stool and walked over to me, leaning in and wrapping her arms around my waist. “I’m so glad I can come move in with you and Ian once the baby’s born.”

I looked down at her, completely lost. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked Ian. He said I could. He loves Sajani, and he said he’d love another little one around here as long as I was part of the package.”

It was really sweet of the love of my life to say that to Janet. He obviously loved me and so would make room in his life for my dearest friends. Yes, it was really very sweet, but no way in hell was that actually going to happen.

“Awww,” Aruna cooed, making a face at me. “He loves my little muffin.”

I hugged Janet tight and looked over at Liam, who muttered, “I hate you.”

I smirked at him as his phone rang and he answered.

“What kind of cranberry salad should I make?” Aruna asked me.

“Don’t you just open a can?”

“Heathen,” she labeled me.

“Oh,” Liam said loudly, dramatically, walking into the kitchen with his phone to his ear, “actually, why, yes, yes she is, Ned. Let me put you on speaker.” He held it in his hand, smiling triumphantly as he stepped into the center of all of us. “Go ahead.”

“Janet Eugenia Powell, how dare you go out of town and not tell me!”

“Eugenia?” Liam asked.

“She doesn’t like it,” I told him.

“She kinda hates it,” Aruna echoed me.

Janet shot him a look that was meant to kill.

“Miro, you selfish piece of crap!” Ned shouted on the other end of the line.

“What?” I retorted, surprised that he actually sounded mad. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you did! You always do!”

Everyone was crazy except me and Ian.

“Did you even think for one second of telling her not to get on the plane? Did you think, oh, she’s pregnant; this Thanksgiving she’ll be pregnant, and won’t that be awesome for her to spend time with her family on—”

“I’m with my family!” she shrieked, pulling free of me as she went to stand over Liam’s phone so she could scream directly into it even as the big man began slowly leaning away. “And that’s the part you never get! We always do everything with your family, every goddamn holiday we’re with them, but what about my family? When do I get to come here and see them? When is it my year?”

“Janet—”

“Just because they’re not related to me by blood doesn’t make them any less important to me or vital to be around, and that’s the part you refuse to understand!”

“Janet—”

“You think when my mother died that I became an orphan, but just because Miro and I don’t have any blood relatives doesn’t mean we don’t belong to a motherfucking family!”

We were all silent and nobody moved.

“So yes, I know you don’t get it, and neither do Liam or Eriq or that new guy Min’s dating—” She turned to look at Aruna. “What does he do, again?”

“Some kind of performance art where he drinks coffee and looks at you,” Aruna explained. “And draws at the same time.”

“How is that different from college?” I asked Aruna.

She shrugged.

“Janet,” Ned tried again. “I just—”

“I’ll be home on Sunday, and we can talk and figure out what to do for Christmas and New Year’s this year. If you want to stay there, then—”

“No!” he yelled. “I love you, and I’m sorry I was a dick about your hormones. I was an insensitive asshole because I’ve never been through this, either. We’re both just finding our way. But in my defense, I’m used to number-cruncher girl, and emotional passion girl threw me for a loop.”

We could all hear the kitchen clock ticking on the wall. It was a good clock, I liked it. I’d picked it out when the old one died. It was stainless steel, very retro 1950s chic.

“You thought I was passionate?” she asked tentatively, and by the way her voice dipped, got silvery and sweet, it was more than clear that she loved the rest of us, but Ned was her endgame.