When We Collided(12)

“Hey, guys,” I say. There are several responses at once. Isaac demands to know if I saw his hit, Bekah asks what’s for dinner, and Leah wants to know when Vivi is coming over. “Yes, I saw the hit, and it was awesome. We’re having homemade pizza for dinner, and I told Vivi to come over around six.”

“Who’s Vivi?” Silas asks, recovering the Wiffle ball that Isaac hit.

“My friend!” Leah says.

I make eye contact with Silas. “I’ll tell you later.”

That’s all it takes for me to become old news. Isaac begs Silas to pitch again, and Bekah argues that it’s her turn. I’m not dealing with this noise. No way. I’ve paid my dues for the day.

Inside, I assemble the ingredients from the store with the ones I already had at home. I use my dad’s pizza sauce recipe, which he altered from my grandmother’s recipe. She was born in Sicily, so that piece of paper is Italian gold. Not that I need the recipe card anymore. The trick is a little bit of honey and some marjoram. A little sweet, a little spicy. Like me, eh? my dad would say, narrating from behind the kitchen island. My mom would mutter uh-huh and roll her eyes even as she smiled.

I shift into my cooking trance easily. When my mind is juggling all the steps in a recipe, I can’t think about anything else. Well, I guess I could, but I’d screw up the food. Every time I finish one task—mix dough so it has time to rise, defrost pepperoni—my mind adds another task onto the end of the list. My hands have to move to keep up with the ongoing tasks. I like making a whole meal at once because it’s even more complicated than just an entrée. Tonight, I’ll make a salad and a dessert, too.

In the kitchen, my dad is still everywhere. In the wooden handles of the knives, in the heavy pizza stones. His hands touched these things a thousand times. I know it’s lame, but when I’m cooking, I can remember his voice most clearly. Jonah, try the julienne for those onions; good work, kid. You know what they say, son—a watched pot doesn’t boil, but an unwatched pot makes for soggy pasta. Keep an eye on that thing.

I’m not sure how much time passes as I finish prepping the pizzas and mixing the salad. Eventually, Bekah and Isaac bound into the living room to play a video game, and Silas leans on the kitchen island. I glance up at him from pitting cherries for black cherry cobbler.

“So, Leah really invited a friend over for dinner?” he asks. I knew he’d be surprised. We both worry about her.

When I nod, he says, “That’s awesome. Did she run into someone when you guys were out this morning?”

“Um, sort of. Met someone new at the pottery place.”

“Even better.”

“She’s . . . a little older than Leah.”

“Like Isaac’s age?”

There’s a knock from the front of the house. I lean back to look out the storm door. Vivi’s standing there, waving and holding what appears to be a bottle of wine. She’s almost an hour early. Shit. She wasn’t supposed to know how much effort went into dinner. It was supposed to appear effortless. Like a feast at Hogwarts. Wait, no! I don’t want to be Dobby in this equation. Jesus. “No. Like the age of that girl right there. Because that is her.”

Silas glances at me, waggling his eyebrows as he moves to open the door. “You’re going to explain this to me later.”

Vivi’s wearing the same thing as she was earlier, short shorts and a loose sweater that is a useless shield for the bathing suit top beneath. She introduces herself to Silas and says something about not realizing I had a brother. Then she laughs when Silas tells her there are six of us total. I probably should have warned her this morning. Maybe she scares easy. If she does, she won’t last through the salad course.

“Hey, Jonah,” Vivi says brightly. She sets the bottle down on the counter. “I’ve never been early to anything in my life, but I thought I’d come over and hang out for a while before dinner, just because I kind of needed to get out of my house. And I brought some sparkling grape juice because I thought it would be fun, but that was before I knew that you have five siblings. So I guess everyone can have about as much as a shot glass can hold.”

She laughs again, that trilling sound. Silas stares between us, looking for the missing link in this story. Before I can respond, Leah turns the corner, almost crashing into Vivi’s bare legs.

“Vivi!” Leah cries. “You’re here! Hi! Do you want to see my coloring books?”

Without missing a beat, Vivi nods in amazement. “Of course! How did you know? That is precisely why I came over early.”

She winks at me as Leah tugs her by the arm, and my face is probably turning the color of the tomatoes. When they’re out of the room, I return to my pitting. I can feel my brother’s stare boring into me.

“Jonah, don’t lie to me. How did you get that girl to come over to our house?”

“What? I don’t know. What does that even mean?”

“Did you adopt her? Or hire her in some way?”

I make sure none of the littles are looking before giving Silas the finger with both hands.

“Chill.” He hits the back of my shoulder. “I’m just impressed you invited a cute girl over.”

“I didn’t. Leah did.”

“I get it now,” he says, pointing at the island. “Why you busted out the black cherry cobbler. Nice.”