The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(74)

"Thank you for that brilliant question, Patrick. I appreciate you and everyone else coming out to evaluate the current state of affairs. Helpful. Extremely helpful." Sam continued, "And it was probably my fault. You know, as I reflect on it now, yes. It was my fault. I'm the responsible party here. I am—I'm deserving of the blame. Gigi did nothing wrong."

Finally. Finally, an apology I believed. Perhaps it was a product of Sam speaking it to everyone else. Maybe it grew from the conversation we had behind the boxwood. Whatever the reason, I believed it this time.

I believed it, and I believed I didn't need the emotional armor anymore.

"Thank you for that," I mumbled into the grass.

"And who the fuck are you?" Ben seethed.

Ben was good at that. The snapping, the seething. Angry suited him even if it wasn't a healthy way to live. And I didn't have to look up from my earthy meditation spot to know he wasn't the one kneeling beside me and rubbing my back. His words were too far away for that. If I had to put money down on his location, I'd bet he was busy edging into Sam's space and shooting glares hot enough to cut steel.

"I'm Sam Walsh and this is my brother's house," he replied. "Who might you be?"

"Let's not do this," I said, finally pushing up from the grass. I was right about Ben glowering at Sam. A-plus effort on that front. I was right about Rob keeping a hand on my shoulder too. And I was right about the entire Walsh family plus a few new faces watching this delightful exchange. "Let's go unpack some boxes instead."

"Are you the one who took the dog?" Ben asked, jabbing a finger in Sam's direction.

"No, sir, I am not. I was on the dog rescue squad," Sam replied, hands up in surrender. "I'm not—I'm not any of them. I'm tangentially involved at best."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben snapped.

That earned him a snort from me as I settled on my knees and scanned the yard. "I told you not to ask." I couldn't place the new faces in the group. Six of them, five women and one man. They looked slightly younger and somewhat confused. That was fair. "You really shouldn't have asked."

"Well, I did," Ben replied, pointing an impatient frown at me. "I don't know what's up here but I don't like it."

I stared at him but I knew the Walshes were closing in around us. They never missed the rowdy stuff and this definitely qualified as rowdy stuff. "Let's just forget this. Okay?"

Ben tossed his hands up. "Whatever you want," he replied as he took an exaggerated step back from Sam.

Lauren's husband Matt approached, a hammer in one hand and roll of painter's tape in the other. "Do you want me to throw him out?" he asked, pointing the handle end of the hammer at Sam. "I will. He's shirking his responsibilities and picking fights in my front yard. Maybe that's acceptable in Fort Point but this is suburbia. We don't put up with that shit here."

"No worries. It was an accident," I said, laughing. "Please don't kick him to the curb on my account."

"Then I'll do it," Shannon called. "Make yourself useful and go get some lunch for everyone, Sam." She marched toward us, a mobile phone pressed to her ear. "Whatever it is you broke, you can fix with food."

"I don't believe I broke anything," Sam replied. "But rather than debate that with an audience of this size, I'll pick up lunch. Maybe then I'll get something I can actually eat."

"Stop it with your sob stories," Shannon said.

"I would argue they are less sob stories and more real accounts of me foraging for food on a regular basis," he said.

"You haven't foraged a day in your life," Matt added.

"What are we talking about? Foraging? Like, for mushrooms?" Patrick asked.

"I've been known to forage a mushroom or two in my day," Riley said.

"Not that kind of mushroom," Andy said to him.

"And that's enough of the Walsh Family Theater for today," Lauren announced. "Matthew, my dear, please stop using that hammer as a pointer. I know you can manage your tools and all but we don't need any additional accidents." She glanced between me and Sam. "Sam, you're in charge of catering. If you can find me some of those little clementine oranges, I'd appreciate it. I'm pretty sure the Whole Foods near MIT had some last week. It's a bit of a trek, but…" Her voice trailed off as she rubbed her belly. "Like I said, I'd appreciate it."

"I'll see what I can do." He hooked a glance at me over his shoulder, offering a tight smile before breaking away from the group. He waved at Ben as he passed him en route to the sidewalk but Ben only scowled back.

Lauren continued, "Andy, I need you to take Patrick and Riley inside. I need them to work on plotting out locations for bedroom furniture before it arrives and we have mass chaos." She pointed toward the house as Andy narrowed her eyes, clearly confused by the request. If I had to guess, I'd say Lauren was putting hands to work and tearing eyeballs off me. She was an angel. "Shannon, my mom is going to be here any minute and I need you to figure out the baby's room before she does. Go. Make it happen. Run like the wind."

Rob kept his hand moving along my spine, each sweep loosening the tension coiled there. God, I was tired. I was tired of trying so damn hard. Tired of being one step to the left, one minute too late. And I was tired of constantly stepping into that joyous indifference and pretending everything was all right. Everything was always all right.