Crawling to the edge, I smile down at Anders sitting in the grass.
“I’m not coming in there, so don’t even ask,” he says, stretching out his long legs.
“Is there space in your backyard for a trampoline?”
“Yes. Well, maybe not once you put in the chicken coop and the atrium and the playset.”
Mama crawls over with Future imitating her. She smiles at Anders. “I’ll joyfully give up the chickens if we can have a trampoline.”
Anders just grins. “We can order a trampoline tomorrow.”
Mama and I share a smile. Future laughs, even though he doesn’t know why everyone is happy. My brother had so much fun today. Now, everything amuses him.
But as the evening grows later, an autumn chill joins the darkness. Dove and Summer hurry inside to change out of their swimsuits. Future shivers against me as I carry him toward the firepit Bronco lit. Lana offers us a soft blanket and suggests cocoa and marshmallows.
When Anders follows me around silently, my thoughts return to DeAnna and Taryn mocking him. I wish I knew how to fight better. Is that something Anders can teach me? Or maybe Topanga knows a few moves? Kicking those women in the vaginas didn’t work.
Anders sits in a chair and pulls one closer to him for me. I hold my brother wrapped up in a blanket. Future sucks at his bottom lip and looks up at me with brown eyes as dark as mine. I love how relaxed he is tonight. Anders’s world might be confusing—and often annoying—but there are so many blessings, too.
Dove appears, following around the other girls, seeming small and nervous. But when I catch her gaze, she offers me a little smile. Dove’s making friends.
By the time Future dozes off against me, Anders has his arm wrapped around my shoulders. I know we should head home. The baby needs to sleep. Mama yawns, too. Bronco’s middle two daughters soon hide inside from the growing chill. Everyone understands how this evening needs to come to an end.
The drive home is quiet. Only a twangy song plays on the radio. Once inside the house, Anders leads the way, turning on the lights and checking the security.
I help Mama get Future tucked in. Dove stands nearby, thinking over her day. She’s been quieter since Papa died. For years, I’ve waited for Dove to return to the feisty girl from the Collective. Did part of her die with Papa?
My sister doesn’t want to sleep alone. She crawls in with Future while Mama decides to sit in the main area and meditate.
“Go upstairs,” Mama reassures me when I watch her. “We’re safe when Anders is in the house.”
Smiling at her words, I take pride in their meaning. She’s learning to respect Anders. He is complicated and, at times, terrifying. But his heart is full of warmth.
Kneeling next to the couch, I whisper, “Tonight, those awful women said things about Anders. Not just insults but threats. I don’t know if I should tell him.”
Mama considers my problem. “I overheard Bronco saying how he sleeps on big decisions. Rather than leap into a choice, he lets his dreams dictate his answer. Why don’t you do that now?”
“But letting a problem fester corrupts a person’s heart.”
Mama smiles at how I remember the ways of the Dandelions. The Collective with Papa feels so long ago. But I will never forget.
“Not for one night,” Mama promises. “Tomorrow, you can tell me what they said. If you fear his reaction, I can tell him. I think Anders protects his heart better when dealing with me. He drops his shield with you, meaning your words have the power to harm him like mine can’t. We’ll talk more in the morning when you’ve created distance from those women’s hurtful words.”
Hugging Mama, I whisper my thanks to her for giving this life a chance. I leave her to meditate, so she can sleep without stress.
Upstairs, Anders paces back and forth across the wide family room. He looks like a dog I once saw in a cage. Growling, the black beast stared outraged from behind the bars. Does Anders feel trapped tonight?
“I love you,” I say, standing near his anger path. “Why are you upset? Are the beer and marijuana no longer working?”
“I feel as if I should have done something different tonight,” he says, as his fists flex. “I don’t think Bronco would have done what I did. I think he would have handled it better.”
“What part of tonight?”
“When those shitty cunts were ganging up on you.”
Tugging at my loose shorts, I frown. “But you’re the reason they stopped.”
“It should never have happened.”
“You can’t see the night clearly. Your anger blinds you.”
“Then, why don’t you enlighten me?” he demands, raising his voice.
“Do you really not understand, or do you want to argue? I won’t do the last one.”
“Everything has to be your way.”
I refuse to answer. I never respond when someone is irrational. That’s why I rarely spoke to John Marks or his vain sister.
“What would Bronco have done differently?” I ask when Anders returns to pacing.
“I don’t know.”
“Would he have punched those women?” I ask, sitting down on the ground and crisscrossing my legs. “Bronco doesn’t like DeAnna. Has he ever punched her before?”
“No, he wouldn’t have hit them.”
“Would he have yelled at them?”
“Maybe.”
“What would he say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think they care when he yells? They didn’t seem to care when I said they were cruel. They only cared when I hurt them. That was a consequence. Yelling at them is only noise.”
“Look at what they did to your fucking face,” he growls, seeming ready to hit me.
“It doesn’t even hurt much,” I reply while stroking my jaw. “Your punch would have done more than leave bruises on their faces. Your hands are so big and strong.”
Anders stops pacing and glares full of hate. He wants me to fear him, but I know he
