Oliver’s grin only brightened; he had no interest in learning new words. It was something he and I would work on together. I didn’t need anyone else, and neither did he.

***

[With no one to answer to, Oliver and I sneaked away for our first father-son vacation. We escaped to the lake house I grew up in. It was the one place I truly felt a sense of peace. We spent the days sailing, painting, and reading while building the beginning of Oliver’s vocabulary. There was no cell phone, no internet, and no cable—just me, my boy, and nature.

By the time we returned home, I knew what would be waiting. I’d been dreading it the final week we were away and the entire flight home. There was no escaping it, but facing it less than two hours after our return? I was impressed, but even more than that, I was annoyed. My sister was a persistent little thing.

Oliver splashed happily in the tub; the little seat that held him up was a godsend. He seemed oblivious to the pounding radiating from the front door and echoing off the walls.

“Here you go.” My lip quirked up as I handed him back the washcloth he’d splashed to the other side of the tub.

I knew turning my phone off would lead to more issues with Julia than my business partners, but the mere sight of the phone left me craving a drink— a hard one—and that wasn’t an option.

“I know you’re home, Logan!” Her fierce roar fell on deaf ears, though I was fairly skeptical of her accepting that.

When the beating of her fists on the door fell in rhythm with the buzzer, I actually cracked the smallest trace of a smile that wasn’t directed at Oliver for the first time in weeks. Maybe longer…maybe even before Natasha left.

I ran my wet hands through my hair, reminding myself not to go there. The past was the past. I wasn’t interested in spending any more time sorting out when or where things had gotten so off track. I’d put it to rest at the lake house.

Oliver blew bubbles on the cloth as I splashed warm water gently over his back, rinsing away the suds. My boy was handsome and smart, and I’d be damned if I’d let him down by dwelling on my own baggage.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Logan!”

Unfortunately, I knew that was true. I stood from the floor beside the tub and grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Open the door! I’m not leaving! You hear me?”

I entertained the thought of appeasing her for only the briefest moment before deciding against it. She’d leave eventually if I blocked her out. It was a school night, after all, and my mother would have the entire city looking for her by nightfall. A fifteen-year-old girl out alone wouldn’t sit well with anyone, including myself. But I knew Julia, and she’d never intentionally cause our mother worry.

I leaned down over the tub, setting the towel beside me. “Sorry, little guy, but it’s time for some food, then sleep. You ready?”

Judging from the look he was giving me, I knew he wasn’t happy.

“No!”

I shook my head, chuckling.

What sounded like a kick to the door was followed by a deafening wail. “Fine, looks like I’ll be here all night!” Julia continued. “Who knows—maybe if I’m lucky, some crazed rapist will come by!”

She’d always had a flair for drama. I could only imagine what the neighbors thought if they heard her.

It wasn’t even six, and I was already wishing I could skip dinner and get some sleep, but Oliver needed to eat and Julia was driving a wedge even in that plan.

“All right, up we go,” I said, lifting Oliver. He screamed, flailing his arms and legs in protest inside the towel.

“That’s it, I’m calling the police!”

Oliver raised his cries an octave and jerked back in my arms, desperate for a longer bath. I left the room, a single throb infiltrating my left temple. The police? She had to be joking, but I doubted it.

“Dow’, Dada! Wata!”

I adjusted him higher on my shoulder, tightening the towel around him. “It’s okay. Your aunt’s crazy, that’s all.” I tried to calm his fit, but he was tuning me out—exactly as I was attempting to do to Julia.

“HI, YES, I NEED AN OFFICER SENT TO—” she yelled through the door, and I detoured from my path to Oliver’s room straight to the foyer, ripping the door open.

“What do you want?” I growled, watching her stand there with her phone to her ear, eyes narrowed at me until Oliver’s shrill sob drew her attention.

Always one to bluff, she tucked her phone in her pocket. She stepped inside quickly despite me blocking the way, and I noticed Katherine, my brother Lawrence’s wife, behind her. I moved to the side, allowing her to enter with no issue, her large, protruding stomach due any day. The last thing she needed was to be hanging around with my irrational sister. She placed her hand on my elbow as she stepped in, offering a sympathetic smile, her eyes soft.

I gave a subtle but appreciative nod. I liked Katherine, and had always told my brother he was lucky to have her.

“Oh no, did I wake him up?” Julia asked.

“Did. You. Wake. Him. Up?” I turned my head back to her slowly, stunned by her inability to see his wet hair and the enormous towel covering him. Was she serious? “Does it look like he was sleeping? He’s just upset his bath ended early due to a very adamant, highly infuriating aunt of his.”

“Aw, I sowwy, did I intewwupt bath time?” she cooed, balancing up on her toes to make eye contact with him.

His fussiness didn’t waver as tears poured out, but his struggling tantrum began to settle.

“Your daddy always told me persistence was a virtue.”

My scowl deepened. I turned, shaking my head, and walked down the hall to Oliver’s room, aware I was being followed. I laid him on the changing table, careful not to unwrap him until his diaper was on. My boy had good aim, and I wasn’t going to be the target again.

“I can dress him,” Julia offered, browsing through the garments in his closet. Everything in there had been chosen by his mother—all white, which was impractical, and with not a thing suitable for the outdoors. Nothing in there was ever going on him again.

“He doesn’t wear that shit. He’s a boy, not a doll.” With the diaper firmly in place, I squirted a pump of lotion in my hand and massaged it down his legs, bringing out his giggles when I rubbed it into his feet. I’d been changing him since he was born, and it was one of the things I’d mastered early on.

“What can we do?” Katherine asked, handing me a navy-blue button-up sleeper she’d pulled from his dresser.

“Thank you,” I said, avoiding her deeper meaning. It was a question I knew many would be asking, and why I’d taken Oliver and left when I did. I had no interest in sympathy.

As I began dressing him, Katherine stood beside me, covering her eyes then surprising him with peek-a-boo: his favorite game.

“He loves that.” I smiled softly, watching her continue.

“Oh, you’re nice to her!” Julia complained somewhere behind me. “Just so you know, she wanted me to leave you in here alone!”

“Another reason to be nice to her.” I shot a quick smirk to Katherine then said clearly, so they’d both understand, “And I’m not alone. I have my son.” The last button was finished, and I lifted him back in my arms, turning to face my sister’s sizzling temper.