Grant sighed.
“It means every major family event in this house still has your father attached to it somehow.”
The name was not spoken.
It did not need to be.
Daniel Lewis had been dead for four years.
Amara felt something tighten inside her chest.
Grant continued.
“Your grandmother comes to holidays and talks about Daniel.”
“Your mom keeps traditions from before.”
“There are pictures everywhere.”
“You have opportunities through your dad’s family that Tyler doesn’t.”
Amara looked toward the framed photograph on the foyer table.
Her father holding her at age six.
Daniel had been laughing at something outside the picture.
“What does that have to do with Colorado?”
Grant’s voice softened slightly.
“I want Tyler to have one trip where he doesn't feel like the extra kid.”
Amara looked directly at him.
“So I have to be the extra kid?”
Grant stopped.
Nicole whispered:
“That is not what he means.”
“It literally is.”
“No.”
Amara pointed toward the SUV.
“He gets to go.”
“Yes.”
“You get to go.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“Obviously.”
“Mom gets to go.”
Nicole started crying.
“Amara.”
“And I stay here.”
Her voice cracked.
“Explain how that's not what he means.”
Nobody could.
The front door opened.
Cold air rushed inside.
Eleven-year-old Tyler Bennett stepped into the foyer wearing a gray winter coat with yellow and black panels. Gloves covered his hands. He was dragging a small silver suitcase behind him.
He stopped when he saw everyone.
“What happened?”
Amara looked at him.
Tyler’s excitement disappeared.
He glanced at her suitcase.
Then Grant.
Then Nicole.
“Why aren't you dressed?”
Amara laughed once.
The sound was ugly.
“I am.”
Tyler frowned.
Grant said:
“Put your bag by the door.”
Tyler did not move.
“Is Amara coming?”
No one answered quickly enough.
Tyler looked at Amara.
“What?”
She stared at him.
“Apparently this is a family trip.”
Tyler’s face changed.
“What do you mean?”
Grant said:
“Ty.”
“Dad.”
“We talked about this.”
“No.”
Tyler shook his head.
“You said Grandma Evelyn wanted Amara this weekend.”
Amara turned toward Nicole.
Her mother looked away.
Tyler continued:
“You said she wanted to stay.”
Silence.
Amara felt something cold move through her.
“You told him I wanted to stay?”
Nicole shook her head.
“I didn't.”
Grant said:
“I told him.”
Amara stared.
Grant’s expression hardened defensively.
“I didn't want him feeling guilty.”
Amara looked toward Tyler.
His eyes were already wet.
She hated that.
Not because she blamed him.
Because somehow even this was becoming another reason she was supposed to manage everyone else’s feelings.
“I'm not making him guilty.”
“I know,” Nicole said quickly.
“Then why did you lie to him?”
Grant answered.
“Because this decision was between the adults.”
Amara laughed again.
“I’m the person not going.”
“You’re thirteen.”
“That doesn't mean I don't notice when my suitcase is packed.”
Nicole reached toward her.
Amara stepped away.
Her mother's hand dropped.
“Amara, we made the wrong decision telling you this late.”
“The wrong decision was telling me?”
“No.”
Nicole’s voice broke.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Grant rubbed his forehead.
“We are making this bigger than it needs to be.”
Amara stared.
“How big should it be?”
“Five days.”
“It's five days.”