Page 11 of Play For Me

We chat easily over lunch, drinking fresh beers and eating far more tacos than any person should ingest at once.

“So,” Red says when there’s a lull in the conversation. “I saw your mom this week.”

All three of us go still, but when Red lifts his head, it’s the Miller siblings he’s focused on. I relax only slightly—the last thing I want to do is talk about my parents, but thesecondto last thing I want is for Em and Jay to have to talk about theirs.

“She in town?” Jay asks, voice tight, attention locked on his empty plate like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Seems to be. Said she was gonna stay at the house for a bit.”

I reach over and put a hand on Em’s forearm under the table—she’s completely rigid.

“But you know her,” Red continues in a gentle voice. “She might say she’s staying today and be gone by tomorrow.”

Jay snorts. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” Em still hasn’t relaxed in the slightest.

The list of grievances I hold against my own parents is lengthy, but it has absolutely nothing on the way I think about the Miller siblings’ mother. Mine might have been cold, judgmental, detached, and cruel, but at least I never had to worry about having food in my belly or be afraid of random, drugged up assholes hanging around the house.

Em and Jay grew up on a much larger ranch up the hill. It had been their grandparents and maybe at one point had been kept up nicely, but after Becky Miller took over when her parents died, the whole thing went to shit. That woman wasn’t interested in horses—she was far too busy living off the money her parents had left her, partying, and leaving her kids to fend for themselves.

I met Jay and Em one summer when I was about six. I’d shown up here for my annual summer visit and they’d been helping Red muck out some stalls. We’d played together thatentire summer and I’d been in heaven. I didn’t have any friends at home.

I was too young then to realize that it was odd a six and seven-year-old would spend the majority of their waking hours on someone else’s property. Half the time they’d sleep here, too, the three of us stretching sleeping bags out on the covered porch. To me, it had been an epic summer of sleepovers. To them, it had been a small measure of stability in their lives.

“I don’t want to see her,” Jay says suddenly, his voice sounding much younger.

“You don’t have to,” Red says evenly. “That’s why I wanted to let you know. Just in case you thought about stopping by the place while you’re here.”

Their grandparents had left the ranch in a trust. There’s a manager to make sure the buildings won’t fully rot away and the horses are being boarded out of state. The whole thing will be Em’s and Jay’s someday if they want it—but for now, Becky is allowed to be there whenever she feels like it.

Jay scoffs. “I have no intention of stepping foot on that land while she’s on it.”

“Then we won’t,” I say, watching him. For onceIwishhewould make eye contact. I don’t like that note of vulnerability and shame I hear in his voice. At my other side, Em remains still and silent.

“Hey, Red,” I say suddenly. “Did we tell you about the party the other night?”

There’s a beat of silence—my subject change had hardly been natural—before my grandfather leans back in his chair.

“Don’t think you did.”

“One of the Ransome kids threw a cup of punch in my face.”

Red just stares at me for a moment, clearly trying to tell if I’m messing with him. “No shit?”

“No shit. The drummer’s daughter, I think.”

Red barks out a delighted laugh, as I knew he would. Ransom is his favorite band of all time, and he’d been tickled to find out the three of us were going to be at the same school as so many of their kids. He bugs us to try and get an autograph almost every time we come out here.

“What’d you do to the girl to make her throw a cup of punch at you?”

“I didn’t do anything to her,” I scoff. “Jay and I were trying to defend her cousin, actually.”

“Yeah,” Jay agrees, sounding much more like himself now. Amused. Just like I hoped for. “Some drunk guy was being an idiot to one of her cousins, so we decided to white knight it.” He smirks at me. “And this guy got a face-full of punch for his efforts.”

Red shakes his head, grinning. “I’m gonna need more information. How does helping out get a cup of punch thrown at you?”

“She was aiming for the drunk guy,” Em cuts in, her smile enough to send relief running through me. “But then CeCe Ransome kneed that guy in the balls so he was doubled over and out of the way when the punch was thrown.”

I force myself not to react to the mention of Cecelia’s name, but Jay, the little asshole that he is, catches something on my face. He grins.