Page 113 of Chasing Home

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JOHNNY

Daisy steals a grape from Aurora’s plate and continues to talk her ear off with information on our parents and sisters. Our moms are watching from the end of the patio table, speaking amongst themselves instead of joining our conversation. They’ve always been the gentle, relaxed types, and from the single interaction they’ve had with Rory, they read her nearly as well as I can.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell my girl isn’t a social butterfly, and in an environment like this, where everyone’s loud and cheery and lacks the ability to give you personal space, it’s obvious she’s a bit uncomfortable.

I’ve been to a million of these barbeques in my lifetime, and I’ve never been as happy at one as I am with her beside me, socially awkward or not. I’m pretty sure I could sit with her in silence for the rest of my life if given the opportunity.

Daisy, however, doesn’t share the same sentiment. She thrives off conversation with friends or strangers and can’t stay silent for longer than a few minutes at a time before starting up again. It’s why she excels in school settings, especially with children. They talk even more than she does.

“Giana hates this town. She hasn’t been back since last Christmas,” she tells Rory, not bothering to hush her words.

“She doesn’t hate this town. Her work doesn’t give her many days off,” I correct her.

“That’s just an excuse she tells us so the moms don’t lecture her.” Daisy takes another grape from Aurora’s plate and tells her, “Gi’s the social media manager for the Vancouver Warriors NHL team. I’m pretty sure that means she gets summers off.”

“So she gets to take videos of them doing those stretches on the ice for a living?” Rory asks.

I lean my elbow on the table and gape at her. “Is that what you’ve been doing once I fall asleep at night? Watching those videos?”

She shrugs. “No. I watch them while you’re awake.”

Daisy laughs so loud she draws the attention of nearly every person standing around the yard. She doesn’t pay a single one of them attention as she keeps focused on Aurora.

“I like you. You’ve got that blunt honour that I think is all too refreshing.”

“Some people think it’s rude,” Rory says.

“That’s because some people think just about everything is rude when they lack a sense of humour.”

Rory stares at my sister with a soft look, an appreciative one. It makes my chest damn near explode with affection. I’ll be thanking Daisy for this later.

“One of these fuckers here stole the turkey burger I had Mama get grilled for me,” Josette grumbles, taking the empty seat beside Aurora. She drops her plate to the table and jabs her fork into the heaping pile of potato salad she gave herself before shoving it into her mouth. “I should have had someone brand it with my initials or something.”

Rory stares at her in surprise, and I hide my laugh with a cough. Daisy rolls her eyes at our older sister.

“Are you going to introduce yourself to Johnny’s girlfriend, Josie Cat?” she asks.

As if just realizing the woman she sat beside is Aurora, Jos swallows loudly and snatches Daisy’s napkin to wipe her mouth.

The glare she gives me before attempting a smile in Rory’s direction threatens pain. “I’m Josette. Jos is preferred. I’m sorry that you saw that.”

“I’m Rory. And don’t apologize. You were being genuine.”

“Genuinely rude,” Daisy says.

Jos levels her with a dull look. “I’m hangry. You can leave me alone.”

“Girls, can you please not fight at the dinner table? We’re not at home right now. There are special guests with us,” Mama says.

I stroke a hand across Rory’s shoulder blades as if to remind myself that yeah, she actually is here with us right now. With me.

“I actually like the fighting. There wasn’t anything like this for me when I was growing up being an only child and all,” Rory says, her cheeks and neck turning pink as everyone stares at her.

“Well, you’ll find a lot of it at our house. There’s never a dull moment,” Mom pipes up. “These three used to cause quite the uproar when they were kids. What was it that Jos stole from you, Johnny?”

“Which time?” I snort a laugh. “The worst I remember from back then was when she stole my DS because she wanted to play Nintendogs, then ended up dropping the whole damn thing in a puddle and broke it.”