He backs away because of the loud noise. I see him soothing Easton and I feel bad, but I have to get as far as I can from Juno and any of the Baileys.
Thirty
Juno
I pull a picture off the string. It’s the one of my parents with Colton and me at my birthday when I turned thirteen, just weeks before they died. We didn’t have huge parties growing up, but we were all allowed to take one friend and go anywhere we wanted. I chose Colton and asked to go rafting. It’s a picture of us all right before we got on.
My arm is slung over Colton’s shoulders, my parents smiling with one hand on each of our shoulders. All of us in swimsuits with life preservers on.
I curl into a ball and hold the picture to my chest, crying because I desperately want to get over this fear. Doesn’t Colton know that? Why won’t he give me any more time?
“Juno Bailey!” Grandma Dori screams up to me from below. “I will not come up there, but you are getting your little tushy down here right now!”
I wipe my cheeks then peer down the hole, and sure enough, she’s standing at the bottom of the ladder, glaring at me. “I’m not changing my mind. He’s rushing me and I’m not ready.”
“He’s not rushing anything. The two of you have been friends since you were six. If anything, he’s going too slow. I told him not to accommodate you, that you had to face reality.”
“That’s nice grandma, tell him to push me to limits I’m not ready for.”
“Ugh.” She turns toward the house. “I’m going up, Austin, call the paramedics if I fall and record this… Juno gets nothing if I fall and die. She’s cut from my will for making me go up there.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Don’t come up, I’ll come down.”
“Too late now, missy. Make room for me.”
I blow out a breath and slide to the back of the treehouse to give her room.
She comes up, huffing and puffing and scolds me with her eyes.
“I told you I’d come down,” I grumble.
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” She sits down and takes a few breaths. “You’ve always been my hardest one.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” I say.
“Oh, stop it with your dramatics.”
I hear someone else coming up the ladder. I assume it’s Austin, but rather than joining us, his hand slides two books across the floorboards.
“Are we sure this is still stable?” Grandma tests the weight where she’s sitting and picks up the books.
“I’m sorry, okay? I do love him, but he’s rushing me into moving in together and now marriage. We’ve only been together for, like, six months.” I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
“This isn’t about you and Colton. This is about you and an irrational fear. You’d think I’d have it easy and all of you would be wounded in the same way after your parents died, but no, each of you are so different. You came out thinking that the more you need someone, the more likely they’ll be stripped away from you.”
“That’s not true,” I say.
She gives me her bored look. The one that says she’s the wise woman, listen to her. “Because you had Colton, I left you alone growing up. I didn’t pry too much because I naively thought you were open and honest with him about your struggles. That you told him your fears and worries. I see now I was wrong.” She points at me. “And you can put that in the books because I rarely admit when I’m wrong.”
I make a checkmark in the air.
She scowls. “It wasn’t until you came to my apartment all those months ago that I realized you were lost. That you didn’t have your head on your shoulders like I thought.”
“Is this supposed to be an uplifting conversation?”
“Let me get to my point.”
I hold up my hands, telling her to go ahead.
“Weeks later, you were closing your business. I thought that’s where your doubt in yourself came from. Because you kept asking if your mom would lie to make you feel like you belong. So I did some research.” She opens one of the books. There’s a tree with names on it. “I had both sides of your genealogy done, and to my surprise, your red hair comes from our side too.”
“Really? You did this?” I lean in to see the book better.
She shoos me with her hand because we both know it was probably Mr. Miller at Northern Lights who did this for her. He’s always asking me where my red hair came from. He says it’s rare and he loves to trace down recessive traits with his genealogy hobby.
“It turns out that Aunt Etta was a redhead but look at all these Baileys with red hair too. And then I thought I remembered something, and I searched back to find some pictures. Sure enough, your grandpa was born a redhead, although it turned blond soon after as he grew up.”
I pick up the book and look through the pages of all our ancestors. “You did all this to prove that my red hair is a Bailey trait too?” Tears well in my eyes.
“You’ve always been a Bailey. No other Bailey talks back to me the way you do. Who do you think you get that from? Yours truly.” She thumbs at herself.
I swipe my eyes.
“And I had a matchmaker on my side too. A few generations ago and I’m not sure who she ever matched, but Mr. Miller found it.” I laugh and she rolls her eyes because she slipped up by mentioning Mr. Miller.
“And the other book?” I ask, nodding toward it.
“Oh, well.” She looks around the treehouse. “I’m not sure it’s necessary after I see all these. Colton is one special guy.” She picks up the book and hands it to me.
I
