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Penelope sighs happily, pure mom joy.

My blush deepens.

“Would I count as a special circumstance, too?” Patrick asks, a twinkle playing in his eye beneath the thick, dark hair falling over his forehead. He looks so much like his son at this moment that all I can do is blink, entranced.

Emerson laughs and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You won’t have to be a special circumstance,” he says. “In two days, we’re getting married, and you’ll be covered under ‘family.’”

At this, Eris loses her hold on whatever vestiges of chill she’d been maintaining. “You’re what?” she screeches.

“Getting married,” Emerson replies calmly. “In two days.”

“Oh, dear,” Penelope murmurs. Her eyes flit quickly between her two children, confliction drawing a line between her brows.

Patrick leans back on the sofa beside her, puts a hand to his chin, and hums contemplatively.

Eris flips.

“You can’t marry her! Are you insane?” she seethes. “You’ve been ‘dating’ her for four seconds!”

Emerson’s jaw clenches. “Which is it, Er, you want me to be happy, or you want me to not be with Almond?”

Her face reddens, and she leans forward irately in her seat. “Emmy, she’s using you. If she really cared about you, don’t you think she would have said something? At literally any point before? Awfully convenient that when she has a huge project she needs done, suddenly she has your phone number and the ability to speak to you.” Her chestnut brown eyes, so like her brother’s, burn with bitter, desperate anger.

“Eris!” Penelope chastises.

“She offered to pay me, and I refused,” Emerson says, voice stiff and hard.

I place my hand on his thigh and squeeze. His hand covers mine, squeezing harder.

“Not that it’s any of your business how I conduct my business, but she’s paying for materials and still wouldn’t accept my labor for totally free. She bartered haircuts and drinks at Blackwood Brew for my time and expertise. This after, I’ll repeat, she offered to pay and I refused, because the idea of making Almond Blackwood pay for me is detestable. I wouldn’t have charged her for materials, either, but if I want to get my Big Ron’s discount at the hardware store, the work has to be through Big Ron’s, and for it to be through Big Ron’s, she has to pay something. Which she is. Without complaint. Readily. Because she’s not taking advantage of anyone, and you should very well know that, Eris. How long have you gone to her for your hair? How many times has she fit you in after hours or on weekends? How often have you raved about how wonderful she is—not just her work, but her?” He shakes his head with a grunt. “I get that you don’t like how long it took her to face her emotions head on, but it’s not up to you to dictate when and how people manage their lives. If she needed time, then she needed time, and I gave it to her willingly.”

“You forget that I was there when you were ready to give up,” she hisses. “I saw how bad she made you feel, and I’m not willing to forget about that just because you’re caught up in her finally letting you close enough to bat her lashes at you.”

“You saw how bad I made me feel,” Emerson counters. “Almond didn’t do anything but have a crush she didn’t know what to do with, and I could’ve approached her just as surely as she could have approached me. With how bashful she is, I should have approached her instead of whining to my sister about it. I know that now. What I don’t know is why you can’t get over yourself to be happy for me now that I’m happy with a woman you know is a wonderful person, despite the stick you’ve got up your a-”

“Emerson,” Patrick warns.

“-butt,” Emerson pivots, last second. “But you’re going to have to find a way to get over it, and quickly, because Almond is going to be your legal sister in two days, and I’m not about to let you be a b-”

“Emerson,” Patrick growls.

“-witch to my wife.” Emerson’s nostrils flare, and Eris’ do too.

Patrick keeps a watchful eye on his children, tensed to insert himself if he finds it necessary. Penelope smiles apologetically at me.

Silence blooms, tense and fraught.

I shift uncomfortably, and Emerson’s jaw clenches.

Patrick frowns.

Eris throws herself back in her seat, crosses her arms, and adopts an obstinate scowl.

Penelope sighs, shakes her head at her children, and rises to approach her son and me. She opens her arms to pull us both into a motherly hug. “I’m happy for you two,” she says as she tucks her head between ours. “I can’t say this isn’t a bit shocking, and a bit fast, but I’ve never known my son to make a decision he regretted, and I don’t think he’ll start now.” She pulls away and places a hand on my cheek, and another on Emerson’s. Her choppy hair swishes as she looks between us, wetness on her lower lashes. “Welcome to the family, Almond.” Mischief wiggles into her expression. “I hope it comes with a discount for me.”

I bark a laugh, and Emerson puffs a breath of amusement, too.

“And men’s cuts,” Patrick puts in behind her. I look over her shoulder, and his gaze meets mine, cautious, but not unwelcome.