Page 46 of Big Dill

I start walking around the kitchen, dragging the miniature tornadoes with me. Their laughter bounces off the walls, filling every corner, and I can’t help but grin. My chest tightens in that familiar ache that only family can make. I always thought I’d have kids of my own someday. I like kids. I really do. But after Elise… I don’t know what my future holds. Except maybe social leagues and pickleball tournaments.

And Jami…

Yeah. There’s always Jami.

Pretty little thing who’s watching me like I’m a circus act.

The girl I shouldn’t have kissed this week.

Twice.

Sweet little birdie who’ll be gone in a couple months.

Which is probably for the best.

“Sis, did you hear anything?” I ask Sadie, trying to sound casual.

She taps her chin, thoughtful. “Could’ve been mice.”

“Big mice,” Jami pipes in, stretching her arms wide.

I love that she’s playing along.

“Mice, huh? You know what we do with mice around these parts?” I crouch slightly, letting the suspense build.

“No, what?” Jami asks, leaning forward.

“We tickle them.”

I drop to the floor. The kids dive on top of me like tiny wrestling champions, fingers probing for every ticklish spot. I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe.

“I surrender! I surrender!” I shout, gasping. Ma swoops in, scooping up Mason while Sadie grabs Abby.

“I think he’s had enough,” Sadie laughs, ruffling my hair as the kids cling to her instead.

Abby tugs her brother along. “Come on! I want to watch Mr. Whiffle!”

I glance over at Jami. She’s leaning against the counter, laughing, completely caught up in the chaos, and my chest tightens again, part amusement, part something I can’t name.

I stay on the floor for a moment, catching my breath as Jaxon heads to the fridge and pulls out two beers. He’s officially a family member at this point, practically one of the chaotic tribe. I glance at Jami and wonder if she’ll ever feel this comfortable in my childhood home, or is she just a guest in the circus?

Sadie hands her a glass of white wine, which, naturally, makes me want to kiss the taste off her lips again. I take a long pull from my bottle, and Jaxon extends a steadying hand, hauling me back to my feet.

“We’re here,” a voice sings from down the hall, boots stomping the mat.

“Who’s that?” Brody asks.

“Don’t be dense b’y. That’s Rachel,” Ma explains, all casual, as Rachel and Laci appear. “Nice for Laci to play with the kids.”

I glance at Jaxon. His eyes squeeze shut for a second.

Real subtle, Ma. Really subtle.

“Laci,” Ma says, crouching. “Why don’t you run into the living room? Abby and Mason are watching Mr. Whiffle.” Laci gives a shy nod and hustles off to the other room

“Thank you for the invite,” Rachel says.

“Of course, ducky. Any time,” Ma chirps grinning like the damn cat that ate the canary.