“Okay,” they both sang out.
I went back to the kitchen and filled the remaining two cups with water. Okay, self, you can hold a normal conversation with a group of people without looking stupid. There. That was a good pep talk.
Back in the living room, Isabel had retrieved my guitar from my room and was strumming made-up chords.
“Oh, Lily, come here. Sit down,” she said. “I was just telling the guys you would play for them.”
I froze in the doorway, cups in hands. Not only because I wanted to rush in and take my baby from her and tuck it back in its protective case … I did let Isabel touch my guitar; I trusted her … but I did not want to play. At all. It was hard enough talking to new people, but playing, that was a different level. I taught myself the guitar so I could write songs, songs other people would play. I was not a performer.
Isabel met my eyes and I could tell she instantly knew my thoughts. “Never mind. I’ll keep playing,” she quickly said.
“Oh come on. Isabel’s been bragging about you for months now, Lily,” Gabriel said. “Let’s hear it.”
“I … ” The cups in my hands were slipping. I put them on an end table and wiped my hands on my jeans.
“You don’t have to,” David said, and I gave him a thankful smile.
Isabel stood. “I’ll go put it away.”
“I got it.” I reached out and took my guitar from her. After securing it in its case and stashing it under my bed, I joined the others again.
Isabel was sitting on the floor now, looking repentant. I gave her a smile so she knew I wasn’t mad, and sat down next to her.
“Sorry,” she said under her breath.
“It’s okay.”
Isabel dug her hands into the bin of Legos next to her. “We should have a ship-building competition.”
“Yes,” Gabriel said. “I am the King of Legos.”
“Is that a self-proclaimed title or one that was appointed?” I asked.
Isabel laughed.
Gabriel acted offended. “Appointed, of course.” He joined us on the floor and scooped out a handful of Legos. “By my father.”
As I was about to respond that fathers are not fair judges, Wyatt ran into the room, holding something up. Jonah came in after him, crying, blood dripping down his chin.
Oh no.
“I got it out!” Wyatt announced. It took me a second to see he was holding a tooth and another second to realize it was Jonah’s.
Jonah shoved him in the back. “I wanted to get it out.”
I jumped up and slung my arm around Jonah’s shoulder. “Whoa, vampire, you need to rinse out your mouth after feeding.”
He laughed through his cry, but no one else was laughing. They looked horrified.
“He had a loose tooth,” I quickly clarified. “Wyatt, next time leave his teeth alone.”
“He was being a chicken. Mom said if he didn’t get it out, he was going to swallow it in his sleep.”
Just then the rabbit came hopping into the room. It went directly to David and proceeded to pee all over his socked foot. I wasn’t sure if it was out of reflex or disgust, but David’s foot flung forward, kicking the rabbit a good three or four feet across the room.
Jonah gasped. “You hurt him, meanie!” he cried. More blood oozed out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin with the exclamation.
I might have felt the need to apologize for my brother, but I kind of agreed with him. Who kicked a rabbit?
“Wyatt, take care of the rabbit,” I said, then directed Jonah into the bathroom down the hall to help him clean up his face.
“Is Bugs Rabbit going to be okay?” Jonah asked.
“He’s fine. He has a lot of fur. It protects him.”
“You said you’d watch the movie with us, Lily, and now you’re playing with your friends.”
“I know, kid. I’ll send them on their way.”
But I didn’t have to. After I’d finished helping Jonah and went out to the living room, they were all standing by the open door. Isabel was handing out candy to some trick-or-treaters, but Gabriel and David were putting shoes on.
When Isabel shut the door, she twisted her bracelet back and forth on her wrist. “We need to get going.”
David wouldn’t meet my eyes and seemed like he couldn’t get out quick enough. He was holding his right shoe and walking on his tiptoes out the door.
“Well, when you get your special rabbit powers, give me a call,” I said.
He tried to laugh but it came out more like a nervous cough.
Sorry, Isabel mouthed. I shrugged. I didn’t blame her. My family was very overwhelming and only half of us were here. And besides, I didn’t care. I was pretty sure David didn’t even know who Benny Goodman was and for a clarinetist that was a sin as far as I was concerned.
David was somebody Isabel had picked out for her quest. And he only further proved my point that said quest was impossible.
“Has anyone seen my blue-handled pliers?” my mom called out to the house in general. When six people lived under one roof, it was often the quickest form of communication. It didn’t necessarily produce results, but it was the fastest. “Anybody?”
“No!” came the reply from Wyatt.
My mom poked her head in my room. I was sitting on my bed, in my pajamas, still contemplating whether I wanted to get up or not.
“I haven’t seen them,” I told her with a yawn.