Mypresencehasbeenkindlyrequestedat Lennox’s. I got a letter. In my mailbox. Which means one of two things. She heard about my little breakdown in the breakroom. Or she’s trying to get Trent and I on good terms again. Or both. I wasn't going to come until I made the world's worstgingerbread houses with London last night. She insisted the cookies wouldn't turn out, but I lovingly reminded her that they weren't a lost cause yet. They were. Our walls turned into molehills the second we touched them. But while I helped her clean up the disaster, I thought of something else that made me happy. My family. Which means I need to fix this.
I ring the doorbell and expect to wait the required two minutes before someone manages to free themselves from a baby and make it to the door, but instead, it swings wide open.
“Hey, Sean,” Lennox beams, holding little Emmett in her arms. “How is my favorite brother?”
I arch a brow at her suspicious words. “If I wasn’t sure before, I am now. What’s up?”
She blinks innocently. “What do you mean?”
“You never greet me like that. Though I’m not complaining. It’s nice, can we make it a habit? And the formal invitation? Classy, but a dead giveaway.”
Her face falls. “You know, you pretend like you’re not good at anything, but you’re really perceptive.”
“False,” I scoff. “I don’t pretend I’m not good at things. I’m great at everything.”
“And humble to boot,” she deadpans. “But you don’t know what I’m up to.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, dear sister. Baby first.” I hold out my arms and she hands me the chunky little boy dressed in the cutest Grinch outfit and sucking his thumb. “Now get on with your scheme. Where’s Trent?”
“Ugh, I hate when you know everything.”
“It’s a blessing and a curse,” I say sarcastically, because if I knew everything, Trent wouldn’t be so annoyed with me.
Lennox leads me to the small sitting room just off the kitchen. Trent is already here, and so is Michael. How cozy.
“Alright, guys.” Lennox claps her hands together. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
Trent looks at me, his eyebrows raised in a challenge. If he leaves the decision to me, he knows I’ll choose the hard way. Always more fun.
I don’t say a word, neither does he. Does he still hate me this much, or is he letting me choose how this goes?
“Just as I expected,” Lennox sighs. But she hardly looks disappointed. In fact, she looks giddy. “If you immature children will please follow me to the backyard.”
“What about dinner?” Michael whines.
“Dinner is for winners.”
A competition. Now we’re talking. Lennox knows the way to my heart.
Lennox and Grant’s home is small enough it takes exactly ten seconds to walk from the front room to the back door.
The backyard hasn’t been landscaped yet and is nothing but a pile of dirt. Which Grant is currently spraying with a hose. The result is a thick and soupy mud pit. He must have been spraying it for hours. On the far side of the yard are three boxes padlocked shut.
“Lennox, have you been watching Survivor again?” Trent grunts.
“Nonstop,” Grant says.
Lennox smacks his chest, but he captures her hand and pulls her in for a kiss.
“Careful, you two,” I say when the kiss continues far longer than three older brothers would like to witness from their little sister. “That’s how babies are made. You already got one.”
Lennox pulls away, but Grant smacks her butt and winks.
I shield my poor nephew's eyes. “I’m sorry you have to live with them.”
Grant chuckles and takes Emmett from me then settles into a lawn chair.
“There are three keys hidden in the pit. You must find them and open your box. Once you have what’s inside, you know what to do,” Lennox explains, projecting each word as if she’s Jeff Probst.
