18. Nate

18

NATE

Eden has a strange look on her face when she follows Eliza and me inside the house for dinner. She's quiet as her other sisters compliment Eliza on the meal, which gets my goat; I'm pretty sure I saw Eden in the house cooking.

I'm the last person to butt in on family drama—or potential family drama—so I take a risk and drape an arm around Eden's shoulder as I fork a huge bite of pasta salad. "This is great," I say, and her smile is both electric and a little confused. "Everything okay?"

She takes a deep swig of water. "You fixed my sister's shed."

Esther perks up at this opportunity to tease Eliza and she turns to face me. "I still can't believe you put yourself near Chiron on purpose."

Eliza slams her mug on the table. "He's a donkey who acts like donkeys are supposed to act. Don't be upset that he bit through one pair of jeans, Esther. You shouldn't have startled him."

"Oh, excuse me. I forgot that walking up the path to the porch with a pan of lasagna is bothersome for a farm animal in the city."

The women bicker a bit, and I soak it all in. This is already a great experience for me. I grew up with just my dad. There were occasional meals with some cousins at my grandma's house, but we don't keep in touch. The Donovans don't have anything like this weekly communion the Storm sisters have going on.

When there's a lull in conversation—mostly due to people giving each other the finger with both hands and Koa demonstrating how Māori people stick their tongues out for a similar emotional intent—I clear my throat. "Thank you all for having me for dinner. This is pretty cool you do this every week."

Ben raises his eyebrows and gestures at the bickering. "Is it cool?"

"Absolutely." I raise my glass. "Cheers."

Esther brought a big vat of a new non-alcoholic cocktail she's testing for her bar. I don't know whether Eden said anything about me not drinking much or if Esther actually does rotate through some NA options, but I love we all have the same drink with the same meal. It feels cozy, damn it.

Unlike everything else in my life.

I got here early because I couldn't take it at work anymore. No matter how many evenings Eden spends on her computer next to me, offering to help, I'm overwhelmed by it all. I'm messing up payroll with my crew, and I haven't been doing a good job keeping the Morningside property owner informed. He's threatening to fly to Pittsburgh to see the place in person.

Eden elbows me in the side, and I realize I've zoned out. "Sorry. What?"

"Esther asked how you fixed the gate."

I furrow my brow. "I don't want to sound like a jerk, but mending a gate is a pretty easy lift for a contractor. You should see me pulling honeycomb from in between attic joists." I grin and squeeze Eden's thigh, then leave my hand there, enjoying the fact that she lets me. This sweet woman wore my shirt, as promised, and it looks so good tied in a knot at her hip. I want to bite it loose.

"Oh," Eva says, resting her chin on her hands. "How is all that going? With the bees in the house and rescuing the honey they left?"

Eden swallows her cocktail. "I processed it all the other day. Stuck it in buckets and dropped it with my wholesale clients. I'm going to do cosmetic stuff now that we're closer to fall and it's not quite as stifling all the time. I just hope Mom doesn't go snooping around my stuff while I'm out of the house." She bites her lip; she's more than a little concerned about this possibility. I'm not sure if her sisters even know Emma kicked over one of Eden's hives and made her lose that whole colony.

Esther points a fork at Eden. "You need to get Mom out of that house. You shouldn't have to worry about your livelihood."

Eliza smacks the table in agreement. "Has she said anything about when she's moving on?"

"Oh, like she ever says anything." Eila shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm not sorry I moved out, because I love living with you, Benny." She pauses to squeeze his arm, startling him, before turning her attention to Eden. "But I am sorry you took Emma in and brought all that energy into your house."

Eden takes a shaky breath. "It really is kind of bad," she whispers. "She's always critiquing the house, criticizing the food I don't make. And I know I don't have to say this, but she's not contributing anything to food or rent."

"Then send her a bill," Esther says. "Or tell her to get the hell out. Look, Eden, I know you have a whole thing about keeping peace and thriving off harmony, but enough is enough. What kind of adult mooches off her kids after failing to take care of them properly?"

Eliza sighs through her nose. "Want me to go throw all her shit to the curb? Her cases of shitty makeup she's trying to sell?"

Eva's eyes go wide. "She's selling makeup now? Ugh, from the same house where Eden's making cosmetics?"

Four of the Storm sisters keep going, airing decades of grievances against their mother, while Eden simultaneously stiffens and shrinks into her seat. "Want to get out of here?" I whisper into her ear as Koa tries to get everyone to stop arguing about their fantasy methods to destroy their mother.

Eden swallows. She says to the table at large, "I should get going. Not just because I need to check on my stuff, but I want to get an early start tomorrow. I'm working with the propolis oil to make some tinctures for that boutique on Butler Street."

"Oooh, I heard about that," says Eliza. "One of my farmer friends is using it on cow udders to treat mastitis."

Esther throws her napkin on the table. "Okay. Cow mastitis is my cue to exit." She tugs Koa by the hand and throws a wave over her shoulder.

Eila, Eva, and Eliza are undeterred. Eila licks her teeth and frowns. "I kind of want to see this stuff, but I have to be at the cemetery all day tomorrow. Will you still be working on it after four?"

Eden shrugs. "I doubt it. But you can check it out. I'll give you a little nibble, if you want."

"I want to do some reels for you," Eva says. "This is the kind of weird shit that goes viral. Bee oil? That treats cow udders?" She rubs her thumb and forefingers together like she's gesturing for a wad of money.

Eden points an index finger at her sister. "Guys, I'm not marketing it for animal husbandry. I'm marketing it to affluent granola people who shop on Butler Street."

"We're coming. I can bring dinner. Might as well make it a demo night. Maybe Eden can stick bee venom in our lips and plump us all up." Eva bats her lashes at Eden, who rolls her eyes.

"You guys are weird. And I love you. Of course you should all stay for dinner and try out my CBD beeswax salves." Eden meets my gaze, extending a silent invitation. My fingers itch to stroke her chin.

"I wouldn't miss it. But I have no idea what you're talking about."

Eva grabs at the hand I raised to cup Eden's cheek. "Look how rough his paws are, Eden. We can make a video of you rubbing palm balm into his skin, really talk up the magic properties of your Storm Swarm. The business name even sounds manly."

Eva rattles off a bit more marketing advice before we all manage to clear the table and make our way to Eliza's door. Chiron brays from the now inescapable shed.

I walk Eden to her van and lean an arm on the roof, hoping for a goodnight kiss. She seems uncertain and stiff. "How can I help?"

She gives me a small smile. "I just… need to grow a backbone. About my mom."

"She has overstayed her welcome."

Eden winces a little, and I wish I hadn't spoken up. I guess her sisters piling on didn't help her confidence in setting a boundary there.

"Want me to come over while you talk to her?" I offer. "I could wait outside, or…"

She shakes her head. "Just coming tomorrow for the propolis party is enough. It'll give me something to look forward to as I psych myself up to ask Mom for rent."

"Rent is a great start." I press a kiss to her cheek. "You got this."

She clutches my hand. "You'll really be there? To see the propolis?"

"Of course." Eden waves as she drives away.

I lean against my truck as I watch Eden's van, surprised by how excited I am at the idea of a cosmetics party with this woman and her sisters. I pull out my phone to write it on my calendar so I don't forget, when I see a text from Kenneth The Jagoff.

On a flight tomorrow at 2. Be at the property by 3. I expect results.

I mutter a curse, then apologize to the only one in the vicinity—the donkey. I'm going to have to face some very serious realities in the morning.