"it was one thing to make a mistake; it was another thing to keep making it. I knew what happened when you let yourself get close to someone, when you started to believe they loved you: you'd be disappointed. Depend on someone, and you might as well admit you're going to be crushed, because when you really needed them, they wouldn't be there. Either that, or you'd confide in them and you added to their problems. All you ever really had was yourself, and that sort of sucked if you were less than reliable."

Chris Omar Vaughn

It was just another day, I went into it with no expectations. Malcolm was in Boulder for the weekend, "seeing clients" but I knew that meant visiting his favorite breweries and taking advantage of all the college kids wanting to have a good time.

Boulder's where I wanted to move, it's a "hippie town" my Mom always loved. We'd go visit a few times a year for no reason other than that we just liked the atmosphere. They're rural in nature and the citizens are really fitness-oriented these days. The appeal is the quality of life and culturally enriched lifestyle, that's why it voted best place to live.

I'd go now if I could, but I can't leave everyone behind. My mom would cry for a week, Dad and I just got back close, and Malcolm needs to me to do everything for him except wipe his ass.

After I showered at home following a workout and hoop session, I went into town to everyone's favorite little café.

I'll never get tired of that bell above the door either because everyone breaks their necks to look when I walk in.

"Chris, hey!" The regular customers and staff erupted.

See, I'm not gonna get that in Boulder.

I greeted everyone with some waves and "how you doing's?"

It was a Saturday so Quinn didn't have much to do, she was sitting at a table, coloring outside the lines.

Her hair was getting longer, it was in pigtails with the ends naturally curling up.
Quinn's eyes were starry and green, reminding me of her aunt.

*** Yesterday ***

"Oh, yeah. Here," Morgan remembered, handing me a business card.

"What's this?" I asked, confused because that was so random.

She sat up on the couch in Malcolm's living room and shook the hair over her shoulders.

"Your mom told me about that guy you like, uh, Reuben Fisher-"

"You talked to him?!"

"Shh, listen," Morgan insisted.

I non-verbally rushed her and she went on. "He came to the lodge and I helped him out. We just started talking and he gave that to me."

"Wait," I paused, furrowing my eyebrows. "He just... gave it to you?"

"Yes, Chris, what else?"

I cut my eyes away from her, having to look somewhere else for a minute thinking there was no way he just coughed up his personal phone number. . .

"Like, you mentioned me, or?" I wondered.

"Does it matter? Just call him, dang."

I chuckled at her. "You're right. Thank you, Morgan, you didn't have to do that."

"Don't mention it. It's really good that you don't just want to be Malcolm's shadow for the rest of your life. I mean, yeah he pays you well, you're loyal, yada yada, but you know, it's nice that you have other goals."

It was cute that she cared so much and this small deed called for something even better in return.

Seeing me just kind of smile at her as she rambled, Morgan blushed and sank in her seat.

"I mean," she cleared her throat, sitting up. "whatever. Just, call him, stop being scared."

***

"Where's Morgan?" I asked her niece.

Quinn raised her little shoulders and hands.

"I do not know," she rang, tuning back into her coloring.

I left her to join AJ at the bar where he was waiting for some service.

"Sup?" He slapped hands with mine.

"Hungry," I complained.

Just in time, Callie reappeared, tying her smock behind her back.

She grinned. "Can I get you anything, Chris?"

I started to speak but Adriel cut me off.

"Excuse me? I was here first and you left to go smoke," he complained.

"Calm down, Karen," Callie cracked, making me laughed as I looked at the updated menu.

"Chris, what do you want?" She asked again.

"I-" I started.

"Actually, I'll take a bagel with-" AJ tried to speak.

Callie interjected sharply. "I said Chris."

Adriel looked between the both of us with his jaw on the floor. "Wow. That's just poor customer service," he nagged.

"Callie," Sherry came out, pointing her finger at the employee.

"Hey, Mom," AJ spoke.

"Hey, Mrs.Jones," I greeted next.

She quickly waved and then returned to scolding Callie.

"You left the cookie dough out all night, it's no good. You forgot to lock up the pharmacy, you're lucky no one broke in and stole anything! And what did I say about smoking on the property?!"

"Relax, alright? I'm sorry, get off my back about it," Callie argued, smacking her gum.

Sherry was pissed, anyone could see that.

She waved her finger. "Count your days," she warned.

AJ and I looked at each other then our eyes followed his mother out.

"Now let's try that again," AJ taunted, folding his arms. "I'll have the banana and Nutella toast, yogurt pudding, and black coffee. Thanks."

I laughed out loud with my head on my hand atop the counter at his premature "thank you." Such a dick thing to say, very Malcolm of him, and I hate that.

Callie jotted that down but not happily, and then rolled her neck at me to hurry and order.

I just got my usual: a turkey sausage and egg breakfast sandwich with jelly on lightly toasted white bread to-go. With it, just an orange juice.

While we waited, I caught some of the news on the tv. I couldn't hear shit, but I just watched the graphics on the screen as AJ talked my ear off about the upcoming game.

The bells chimed again and let in a man that had everyone greet him almost as warmly as they greeted me when I walked in.

"Dude, there's your guy," Adriel stated the obvious.

Reuben Fisher. I could believe it but I couldn't believe it would be so easy to just approach him.
Sure Morgan got his card, but I don't exactly think she needed to smooth-talk him to get it, look at her.
That made me mad.

Reuben was probably flirting, I doubt she mentioned me at all.

I wanted to rip up the card, talk to him myself, and win him over with my work and charm, not on someone else's behalf.

Except, I didn't rip it up. That's dumb, but I did put it back in my pocket.

And just by some sort of cosmic coincidence, in walked Morgan.

She smiled big and said hi to everyone she knew, and even to people she didn't know yet.

I watched the famous architect throw up his hand and signal her over to his booth.

Morgan sat with him, engaging in conversation.

What are they possibly talking about, I asked in my head.

Their conversation didn't last long, though. She got up and walked over to the bar, AJ and I had to act like we weren't just staring.

"Hey," she addressed us, sitting a few seats down from me.

"Hey," we both said back.

She gasped loudly and jumped from the stool.

"My baby!" Morgan squealed at the sudden sight of Quinn standing under her.

"Morgy!" The three-year-old exclaimed.

Morgan picked her niece up and kept her on her hip. I watched them kiss and giggle in each other's faces, just happy to be in each other's presence after what probably seemed like forever to them.

It's just crazy, if you didn't know the family, you'd think Morgan was Quinn's mother and Callie was the distant sister who could care less. Seriously, you can see how Malcolm and I thought that in the beginning.

Callie returned to us with our food. She slammed it down and AJ snarled, "That's why you don't get any tips."

"I got one for you," she sassed and flipped him off.

"Hey, Cal," Morgan said to her sister, bouncing Quinn in her lap.

"Oh, it's you," Callie murmured. "Do you want anything, or no?"

"Um, Quinn? What do we want?"

"She already ate," Callie snapped.

"But I'm hungry!" Quinn protested, reaching for the cookie jar.

Callie slapped her hand and made her daughter cry.

It was a loud smack, too. Of course, parental, just unnecessary.

"Callie!" Morgan yelled.

"UGH!" The older sister roared, storming off.

I felt... bad. I had nothing to do with Quinn, but I didn't want her scream-crying like that, poor kid.

"She's fucked up," Adriel talked with his mouth full.

"Can someone please get that crying baby out of here, some of us are trying to work?!" Reuben hollered at his table.

Morgan stopped in place, as she was already on her way out, and said, "Excuse you?"

"Oh. I-I didn't know. Is she yours?" He clammed up, not knowing she was with the child.
The way he reacted, just confirmed he was flirting with her. I don't like that. I don't like it at all.
Like I said, I'll connect with him myself. Just, not right now.

Almost instinctively, I went out to check on Morgan and Quinn, but a text from my mother stopped me.

Don't fogtdj your cousins will b heae later for the festival1! Stop by the house when u get a chance!

I read that despite all the typos.

I don't even know how they were my cousins, and they're all younger than me. There's Kailyn and her older brother Jack, their mother Julia, and her husband — their father— Kurt.

It was an annual thing, them coming to visit for the festival. I think they're from New York, or something. We didn't talk much, well I didn't, but Mom kept in touch with them.

I'm glad she reminded me or I would've forgotten all about that damn festival.

I took my wrapped food and OJ, telling Adriel that I'd catch up with him later.

But first, I paid for my food plus three of those cookies Morgan and Quinn like so much. Okay, I like them, too. I got three more.

On my way out, I looked at Reuben who stared back at me but only for a second before he returned to his designs and planning.

"Is she okay?" I found Morgan at her (Malcom's) white BMW.

She looked up at me, kind of confused.

"What are you doing out here? Yeah, she's fine. Go back inside before someone suspects something," Morgan talked.

I noticed her wipe her eyes fast like she was crying and didn't want me to see.

The noon sun shone down right on Morgan's face, providing light on her naked face so I could see the tears streaming from her eyes.

"Here," I offered the container full of cookies.

Quinn picked her head off of her aunt's chest and lit up.

"For me?!" She shivered through her words.

"What do you say?" Morgan reminded Quinn.

"Thank you, Chrissy!" Quinn said, mouth watering.

I still hate "Chrissy" but I'll allow it.

"You didn't have to do that," Morgan's little voice rang.

"Shut up, it's fine. Just don't want her crying like that," I replied, not sounding like myself.

The side door slammed open and Caleen came raging out of it.

"Give me my daughter," Callie roared. "Quinn, let's go!"

My face curled seeing how worked up she was... Over a cookie?

"Callie, what the Hell? You don't even want her. Go home, relax, I'll watch her," Morgan somewhat yelled.

Callie looked crazy in the face, teeth gritted and eyes large. "She's not your goddamn daughter, now let her go."

Morgan shook her head but ultimately put a crying Quinn back down on her own two feet.

This is just sad.

"I want to stay with Aunt Morgy," Quinn cried.

"Come on!" Callie shouted, down to the three-year-old's level.

Quinn continued to cry and scream, reaching for Morgan who couldn't say or do anything else but watch as Callie held her daughter by the wrist and led them to her car across the street.

She sped off way too fast, I don't even know if she fastened Quinn in the car seat properly, there's no way she could've.

Morgan stood on the edge of this side of the street, palm to her forehead.

I wanted to give her her space, I'm sure none of that was easy. Although, I wasn't sure if she was the type to want to be alone at times like this, or not.

I put my hand at the small of her back. Nothing I was going to say sounded like the right thing. So I didn't say anything.

"I'm tired," Morgan cooed, staring down at the road.

"Come with me," I offered, pushing her to walk on the other side of me instead of being closer to the road.

***

I parked my car outside of my parent's white two story home.

There were several cars in the driveway, I knew they were having company over for the return of our distant family.

"I just gotta stop in and speak, I won't be long. You can stay in here," I told Morgan, leaving the truck running.

She unfastened her seatbelt. "I'm not staying in here, that's rude. What, are you ashamed of me?"

That was her first time talking after the whole car ride there.
While she didn't crack a smile or even giggle, I could tell she was trying to keep things light.

Before I could even knock on the door, my mother let us inside.

"Chris!" She was happy to see me.

"And you brought Morgan, hi!"

I immediately noticed the wine in my mother's hand. She isn't a regular drinker, in fact, she's a super light weight and typically swore off drinking after seeing my father's addiction.

"How are you?" Morgan engaged with her.

"Drunk!" My mom bubbled. "Come in."

"Where's Dad?" I asked her, peering over their heads.

"Who knows. Your cousins are here, go say hi."

The room erupted with hi's, "it's been ages," and "my, look how big you've gotten."

I never called Julia or Kurt aunt or uncle and I didn't go to hug them, either, but Kurt shook my hand.
They both were drinking beer at the table, shuffling some cards.

Meanwhile, Jack watched YouTube on the mounted flat screen, and his sister was M.I.A.

"Where's Kailyn?" I asked after pushing Jack's head in.

"She's out getting fucked in the ass."

Everyone stopped and stared at Jack for his remark.

Julia hung her head. "Kurt!" she yelled for her husband to interject.

Kurt laughed it off. "Teenagers. How ya been, Chris?"

"No, seriously, where is she? Why did he say that?" I stayed on topic.

"Kailyn's fifteen now, she's having a phase," their mother let me know.

The fuck type of phase is that?

"Fifteen?!" I recited, scratching my neck. "I'm getting old."

"A-hem," Mom cleared her throat, alluding to Morgan holding up the wall shyly.

Remind me to yell at Mary later, I told myself in my head.

"This is Morgan. Morgan, this is Kurt, Julia, and their son, Jack - my cousins," I introduced against my will.

"Nice to meet you," everyone shared.

I was going to introduce everyone just not like that, my mom didn't have to make it all suspicious like she's my girlfriend or something.

In walked Dad. He put his hand on my back and said "hey, son."

He looked stressed, irate.

"How are you, Morgan?" He talked.

"A better question is how are you," she giggled. "You okay?"

"Not at all," he winced, taking a seat.

"You're just mad you can't drink," Julia teased, raising her beer. Her husband toasted with her and they had a laugh, drinking as much as they could right in his face.

Mom shrugged and poured more wine for herself.

"Mary, you're drinking?" Asked my father.

"Why not, I'm not the one with the problem," she blurted, taking it to the head.

I looked around the room to read it. I'd hate to be in my father's position right now but they're fucked up for indulging in his face like that.

"I need air," Dad growled, shooting up from the wooden chair.

"What the Hell is his problem?" Kailyn asked, walking inside.

"Chris!" She squeaked. I'm her favorite cousin after all, always have been.

"Where have you been?" I asked her in a side hug.

"With my old man," she popped her tongue.

Oh. You know the "hot Cheeto girls" seen on TikTok — the white girls who basically mock black women/culture and do their "edges," wear hoops, and act "ghetto?" Yeah, them. That's Kailyn, that must be the phase her parents meant.

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled, letting her go.

She had on these goddamn Nike low dunks, black skinny jeans with the thighs cut out, a black hoodie tied at the neck but unzipped to show her white crop top and pink belly ring.

I looked at everyone with my jaw dropped.

"Are you all okay with this?" I asked them.

They shrugged. "We're used to it."

"You should see her Instagram," her brother, Jack, cackled.

"I look good, the fuck," she smacked, rolling her neck.

My head spun.

Am I being Punk'd? Must be.

"You look like a caricature," I spat, still not wrapping my head around this transformation.
Just last summer she wore milk maid dresses with loafers and pigtails.

"And who's this?" Kailyn referred to Morgan.

"I'm Morg-"

"Damn you got some big ass titties, sis," Kailyn jabbered, standing under Morgan. "Where you get them done? I want mine done, and a BBL."

"That is enough of you," I choked, pulling my cousin away.

Morgan just laughed. "It's okay," she said to me.

"No it's not, she needs a muzzle. And a chastity belt."

Kailyn rolled her eyes at me. "Mccht. Chris, can I ask you something?"

I blinked, waiting for her to spit it out.

"Not in front of everyone, dummy," she gritted.

"We were just about to leave, anyway. It was nice seeing everyone," I talked on my way out.

"Check on your father, he's probably punching the air right now," Mom made herself and her guests laugh. It's not funny.

She'll regret her behavior when she sobers up, this isn't like her.

The three of us — Morgan, Kailyn, and I— trekked outside to my Durango.

"Hurry up and ask me what you need to ask me," I rushed Kailyn.

"Can you get me some tree?" She questioned.

I looked at her slow. "Some what?"

She smacked her paper thin lips. "Some bud? Grass? Weed, Chris, weed!"

"I know what you meant, and no. Fuck no. Why would you ask me that, you're fourteen?"

"Fifteen," she corrected. "and I've smoked before."

My eyes widened. "I don't want to hear this. You're a kid. Go back inside before I tell your mother."

"Lame," she blew a raspberry and walked back in the house.

I shook my head, trying to grasp what the hell just happened.

These people can't be related to me, I thought.

"Leaving already?" Asked my father, emerging from behind the house.

"Uh, yeah," I answered.

"Hm," he sounded, taking a swallow of beer.

"Dad, what the fuck," I barked.

"What? Everyone else can drink except for me?"

"Yeah, you have a problem, they don't."

"It's just one drink, son. Okay, two. But it's nice that you care now,"  he mumbled.

"The fuck are you talking about, I always cared about you?"

He shook his head slowly and laughed manically. "You only care about yourself. No, that's not true— you care about Malcolm. A lot more than you do about me."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Why does it always have to be about him?"

"You chose him over me."

"He was your best friend, and you're my father, it's not a competition."

"You can't support both people who have vastly different views, son, you just can't. And I won't ask you to. I tried getting you on the right track, with school and architecture and everything, but you want to play devil's advocate, siding with the man who's polluting our street with drugs, then go ahead," my dad ranted.

"Chris, d-don't listen to him," Morgan said to me, tugging on my arm. "He's drunk, he doesn't mean it."

But she doesn't know him like I do. I've heard this since college.

"Let's just go," she whispered, pushing me in my back in the direction of my truck.

***

Morgan was still tired, her social battery dead after what went down with Callie at the lodge earlier.

We just rode around talking until the sun went down before we knew it.

I didn't bother going to day one of the festival because my embarrassing family was more than likely there being, well, embarrassing.

Our conversation was minimal, Morgan and I, both of us had shit going on we didn't seem to want to talk about, and I'm glad she didn't make me. Although, she's a good listener and would probably offer some notable advice.

I was running low on gas and was close to home.

Malcolm was still away so it's not like she needed to be back in her tower, or else.

We may not have been saying much but I was thankful for her company.

I stopped at a gas pump and got out.

Morgan was in her phone, bored.

She didn't look like she wanted to get out so I just asked if she wanted anything.

"Snacks," she answered. "Lots of snacks."

Noted. I walked inside and grabbed one of the baskets to fill up.

If I was Morgan what snacks would I get? Chocolate. Women love chocolate.

Aha! I grabbed some double stuffed Oreos, chips, Hershey bars, gummy bears, caramel popcorn, pretzels, and chocolate chip cookies with vanilla icing to sandwich them like the ones they sell at the café. I know Morgan loves them, plus I let Quinn take the ones I bought for us earlier.

"What did I come in here for again?" I asked myself, standing in the aisle.

Oh, gas, I remembered.

***

"—Wow, I never thought I'd see your place," Morgan said, following me inside.

I flicked the lights on and put the plastic shopping bag on my counter.

"It's nice," Morgan chimed.

I chuckled. "You sound surprised."

"I am," she said, wandering around. "I was starting to think you were homeless."

"Relax," I grumbled, opening the gummy bears.

Morgan was looking around at the place. I wondered what she thought but she said it out loud.

"This is nice," she said. "But these stools?"

"I made them."

"I like them. Something tells me you didn't do all of this yourself, though?" She smirked.

"You know my mom, she helped, and her friend Missy," I admitted.

"Take me to your room," she said softly, stepping out of her Gucci platform clogs. "And bring the snacks."

I looked off to the side as if there was a camera.

Well, then. She doesn't have to tell me twice.

***

When I looked outside, I saw that it had turned to night. We had been watching a series of psychological thrillers from Hereditary to Get Out to Hush. I think both of us numb because we didn't even comment on the movies, just ate and stared at the screen.

During the end credits, Morgan muted the tv.

"Are you mad at your father?" Morgan asked me.

She sat up titled to the side in her headband and matching satin white mini dress with lace trim, legs tucked to the side and ankles crossed.

I swallowed another cookie/icing sandwich and thought about her question.

"Disappointed," I said. It wouldn't be fair to be mad at him, he needs help. I can be disappointed though because he vowed to be sober.

She nodded her head. "I get that. Do you wanna talk about it, or no?"

The "or no" killed me, she and Callie both do it, it's funny. It's sweet and understand but at the same time, kind of rushing like Malcolm and his "thank you."

I found the quilted headboard and leaned against it, staring past Morgan to see out of Palladian window, bringing in the city's lights and the darkness of the ten pm sky.

"I just don't know what's so fucked up about his life that he had to ruin mine. I don't get it, like, just don't fucking drink," I ranted.

Morgan stayed neutral but told me, "It's not that simple. It's an addiction - a mental—"

I butt in. "You sound like my mom."

That's not the first time I said or thought that.

She giggled a bit then cut it off. "I think we're all addicted to something."

I didn't know where she was going with that, I'm not addicted to anything.

Morgan twisted her mouth in thought and said, "Okay. I got nothing."

I laughed at her and when she smiled, I wet my lips.

How is it that after being with this girl all day and at ten at night with no effort, she's this gorgeous?

I swallowed, removing my eyes from her lips.

"Well I appreciate you tryna say that just to cheer me up."

Morgan nodded again, rolling off of the bed. She walked over to my glass-enclosed small office area by the large window.

She sighed, flipping through my design notepad.

"I think Callie's addicted to being depressed. I know it sounds stupid but I really think so. It's like no matter how well things in her life are going, she'll find a way to hate it all. She doesn't know how to function if she's not, like, I don't know... She's so used to sulking and negativity I don't think she wants to be happy," Morgan expressed.

Again, I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything.

I didn't fully know Callie's situation, I judged her. Hearing she's depressed though, I know it's hard. I related that to what my mother went through the first couple of times Dad left. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, was just up worried sick about him.
I kept saying it was a choice — his choice— but Morgan's right. It is an addiction, a mental fucking illness. While it's his fault, it's really not.

"I saw a baby picture of you," I said to change the subject.

Morgan leaned up from over my desk and glared at me.

"Oh, God," she breathed out.

I started laughing, running my hand down my chest.

"With your gap and your pigtails and those big ass glasses," I cracked up through a yawn.

"Stop!" she squealed, lunging over to attack me with my own pillow.

Morgan, on top of me, squinted her eyes on me.

I chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, pulling away. "Aren't you going to take me home?"

"If you want to go home," I said back, dry.

"No," she said quietly. "I just don't know if I can just lay here with you and go to sleep. I also don't want to get used to this because I know we can't-"

Me either.

"We can try," I offered, patting the bed.

Morgan reluctantly climbed into the bed and snuggled under the covers, testing how comfortable it was.

"Mmkay," she sounded, making me laugh. "Good night, stink."

Curse whoever put this word in her vocabulary but it's ironically so damn funny.

I lied on my back, actually tired, waiting for my eyelids to get heavier.

"Chris," Morgan cooed.

"Huh?"

"I said we can't have sex I didn't say don't touch me," she demanded, pulling my arm over her body.