Page 84 of Fever Dream
“You said Bush.” I shrug, trying to appear more casual than I feel, since all I can think about is how distraught Emmett must be right now. “It’s like a ring name. His real name is Emmett Brandt.”
“Bush, Brandt, whatever. My day is fucking made, Jules. Get in here. Let’s have a coffee. I want to hear all about it.”
My brother practically skips into the kitchen, where Winter and my mother are seated around the oval-shaped table. My almost three-year-old niece, Vivienne, is perched on my mom’s knee while she holds baby Harvey with her free arm. As a midwife, my mom is alarmingly comfortable juggling small children. She does it with a level of confidence that I don’t have, so I opt to give each child a turn.
“Hello, Miss Vivi,” I say, crouching down and opening my arms. She squeals in excitement and hops off my mom’s knee, rushing toward me. I pick her up and spin her around, peppering her pudgy cheeks and tiny ears with quick, silly kisses. It draws manic giggles from her that leave me smiling into her neck.
Then I pull back and look her over. It’s like holding a tiny female version of my brother. Dead ringer. I don’t know where Winter was when this baby was made, because her genes were not in the room.
“How’s my sweet girl?”
“Hiii,” she squeals before planting her hands on my cheeks and landing a loud kiss on my face.
“You gotta stop growing like this, kid. Soon you’re going to be taller than me.”
She laughs and wiggles enough that I put her down before she takes off running again.
Winter watches her with a somewhat tired expression on her face. “I swear that kid doesn’t stop moving. She’s excited all the time. Happy all the time. She’s practically the eighth wonder of the world.”
Theo scoffs at that from where he’s leaned up against the counter watching us. “Why wouldn’t she be happy? Life is good.”
Winter and I look at him at the same time, and I almost laugh, thinking back on Emmett’s assessment of my brother.Too fucking happy.I smile and turn back to my mom, holding a sleeping baby Harvey in her arms.
“Hello, little man,” I say softly, crouching close to run my hand over the silky spray of his blond tresses. This one? This one, Winter’s genes were in the room for, because he’s a dead ringer for his mom.
“Do you want to hold him?” my mom asks.
I shake my head. “Nah, he’s asleep. He looks comfy. Hold your grandbaby, Mama.”
“Yeah,” Theo pipes up, moving to the table and pulling a chair out. “Jules is about to be very busy telling us all about Emmett beingRomance Ranch’s bachelor. Because I’ve been waiting all morning for this.”
I sigh and stare at my brother before ignoring the seat he’s pulled out for me and walking over to Winter. She stands and we hug.
And like always, it’s not a big, boisterous hug. But it’s tight, firm. There’s something heartfelt in the way Winter hugs. It’slike she’s never gotten enough of them, so she soaks each one up with more intentionality than most people.
“Julia,” she says smoothly, looking me over. “You look…” Her head tilts, light eyes assessing me carefully. “Hmm, I don’t know. You look different.”
“Probably the weight of carrying around such juicy secrets is taking its toll on her,” Theo suggests with a chuckle.
“No, it’s because she’s not staying up all night studying now. She’s got a big girl job,” our mom announces proudly.
Vivi has moved on to a set of magnetic blocks that I can tell my mom had set up in the living room for her earlier, but everyone else’s focus is on me.
“Maybe—” I start only to be cut off by Theo.
“Yeah, a big girl job that she’s going to sit down and tell us all about right now. Jules, let me get you a coffee. You still take it black?”
“Yes.”
Within seconds, Theo slides a steaming cup of coffee in front of where I sit, before taking his own chair. He props his chin in his hand. “Tell me everything.”
“I still can’t believe you won’t tell me anything. Likeanything, anything,” Theo laments as we walk through Emerald Lake’s bustling historic district. It’s home to many bars and restaurants, coffee shops, small boutiques, and the town’s best ice cream shop.
The Old Country Creamery. A name we thought sounded charming when we were younger but has grown to sound, well, gross as we’ve gotten older.
But that doesn’t stop us from going, because their ice cream is the best. And it’s the place I’ve paid my way through university by working at—the place Istillget a discount at.
Our group stops at the small courtyard in front, practically diving to claim the only free table. Mom and Winter plant themselves there with the kids as Theo and I turn to make our way inside to order.
