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“Not surprising,” Dad says.

I brush off their praise. Answering questions about food and decoration preferences was the least I could do for my dad after everything he’s done for me.

“I’ve got a few more things to see to,” Lisa says. “Both of you enjoy yourselves, and we’ll catch up soon.”

She bustles away, her short hair—curled and embellished with a diamond clip—unmoving as she leaves. Dad watches her, then faces me. “Shall we?”

I take his arm, and we make the rounds, visiting with the guests who’ve already arrived. After a few minutes, I catch sight of the Walker boys, so I allow Dad space to receive congratulations and birthday wishes alone and make a beeline to my old friends.

“My brothers from another mother!” I say jokingly with arms wide open.

I have to let go of the folds of my red, floor-length gown as I reach toward them, so of course I stumble immediately on the fabric. Tate reaches out first to catch my arm and steady me. He’s six or seven years my senior and the second oldest of the Walker brothers—also the most stoic of them all.

“You alright there?” he asks.

I straighten with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m good.”

I knew this dress was going to be too long to manage tonight, but it’s the only one not wrinkled to high-heaven from being in my suitcases.

“Have you been sampling the punch, Juliet?” Jaxon, the third brother, asks.

Ben, the eldest, leans forward with an amused grin. “I didn’t think you were old enough to drink yet.”

“She’s not,” Luke, the youngest brother, pipes in. “She’s always been too young.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t even try that with me, Luke. I’m older than you.”

He scoffs. “By, like, five days.”

“Five and a half.”

I embrace them all with a quick half-squeeze each, and we catch up on how life has changed for each of us. Talking to them is exactly what I need tonight.

Growing up, when our families would hold backyard barbecues or Dad would drag me along to tailgate parties and high school football games, the Walkers always made it a point to include me. When Dad was on duty, Ann would paint my nails and Tom would let me watch all the scary shows Dad never allowed me to.

Their sons were just as kind, though all of them were much older than me—aside from Luke. Ben never complained that a little girl eight years his junior would hesitantly ask to join in their flag football games—though I always sat out with Ann when it led to tackle football. Tate would always load my plate full of the huge amounts of dessert, and Jaxon let me win whenever we played Mario Kart.

I’m sure I didn’t have as great an impact on them, but during the age where I was desperate for siblings of my own, they provided an irreplaceable friendship, especially Luke.

“So where are your parents?” I ask the brothers, glancing around the room.

“Back there,” Ben replies.

I glance at where he points, finding Tom and Ann standing near the memory wall of Dad’s mayoral life. Near them, a woman with short, blonde hair stands rigid, her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes linger on Tate before her attention falls on me, and I finally recognize her.

“Is that Liv Rawlins?” I ask.

She used to be my babysitter whenever the Walkers were unavailable. I loved her, even when I got a little too old to be babysat. She made me feel important as a nine-year-old, teaching me how to apply makeup and listening to me yammer on and on about whatever elementary school drama was happening in my life at the time.

“When did she get back?” I ask.

“A week ago.”

Tate’s tight voice draws my attention, but Liv arrives before I can figure out why he’s responded that way.

Liv pulls me into a warm hug. “I almost didn’t recognize you, Juliet. It’s so good to see you.”

“Yeah, I’ve finally grown.” I laugh. “Although I wouldn’t say no to playing Pretty, Pretty, Princess with you still.”