BY LUNCH the next day, they’d demolished the bunkhouse all the way to its concrete foundation. Martie had decided to keep working on it after all, finding some satisfaction in tearing it down, and Jacob’s and Megan’s help made it go faster. So did the fact that Alex and Jacob talked to each other practically nonstop. Well, mostly Alex talked and Jacob listened.
Kyle went to Emily, where she was double-checking that nothing salvageable had wound up in the pile for the dump. They sorted through the hardware and the lumber. “I’m having feelings,” he said.
“Me too.” She gestured to the pile. “Behold, our childhood, may it rest in peace.”
Alex shrieked about something. It turned out she was excited to see Uncle Mike, who walked into the clearing with Aunt Brenda, both carrying open bottles of beer.
“Hole-eeeeee shit,” Aunt Brenda said. “You guys really tore it down!”
“Yeah, that was the point,” Emily said.
Uncle Mike patted Kyle on the back. “Nice work.”
“Hello, Dad, we helped, too,” Martie said.
“This is unsettling.” Aunt Brenda stood in the middle of the bare foundation. “This is . . . okay, I have managed not to cry all week, but I’m going to now.”
Alex ran over and put her arms around Aunt Brenda’s waist. “It’s okay, Mom.”
“We weren’t even allowed here when we were kids,” Uncle Mike said. “Workers lived here and we were supposed to stay away. I always wanted kind of a clubhouse so bad. You guys were lucky.”
“Good riddance to it,” Martie said.
Aunt Brenda stepped off the foundation. “I know. I’m just thinking about you all when you were little. You were so freakin’ cute, every last one of you.”
“And you’re still lucky,” Uncle Mike added. “You all have way cooler parents than we did.”
“Maybe not all of us,” Megan said.
“Yes, you too, Megan.”
“I don’t know, man. What my mom did? And my dad is so passive and boring and materialistic.”
“Hang on,” Uncle Mike said. “You’re talking about my big brother.”
“Okay,” Aunt Benda said. “Everyone but Kyle and Taylor and Megan go . . . help Grandma or whatever.”
“Why?” Alex asked.
“Come on.” Emily pulled her down the path. Jacob and Martie followed.
Kyle sat on the concrete of the foundation, suddenly slammed with exhaustion. He was going to sleep for a hundred years when this was all over. Taylor sat next to him and tilted her head to rest on his shoulder.
Uncle Mike said to Megan, “You may think your dad is boring and passive. You may think a lot of things. Based on knowing your dad my whole life—”
“What you see as materialistic,” Aunt Brenda said, jumping in, “is him wanting to give you guys everything you need and make sure you’re secure.”
“But—”
“It’s okay.” Aunt Brenda put her arm around Megan, jostled her a little. “Megan. I know you think you’re like thirty years old and know everything, but you’re not and you don’t. I know because I was like you.”
“Megan, you’re gonna be the Aunt Brenda when we’re old,” Taylor said.
“Probably not a Stanford professor, though,” Kyle added.
“Thanks, Kyle.”
“All we’re saying, what we came up here to tell you,” Uncle Mike said, “is that your mom and dad are back from our place, and they both feel like shit, and maybe we could all just try not to be assholes to either of them.” He pointed at Brenda with his beer. “Including you.”
“Yeah, including me.”
“Also, we love you guys, okay?” Uncle Mike looked at each of them. “And we hope next time something big goes down, you know you can count on us.” He paused just long enough for everyone to feel embarrassed. “Aaaaand, the other very important piece of info we came to deliver is that the dance is tonight, instead of on the last night. Well, we could dance on Saturday, too. But we definitely need it now.”
“The cathartic power of getting down,” Aunt Brenda said.
“The healing balm of the beat,” Uncle Mike said.
“The life-changing magic of the boogie.”
“The seven habits of highly effective busting a move.”
“The—”
“Stop,” Megan said, finally cracking a smile. “I think we get it.”
Aunt Brenda put her hands on her hips and nodded at Uncle Mike. “Our work here is done.”
In the early afternoon, Kyle and Emily played catch with Alex and Jacob. The mood on the farm was low-key, quiet. That calm after a drama, or plain exhaustion.
Emily grimaced after having to reach up high to make a catch. “Every muscle between every rib is sore from pulling hardware.”
“I’m not sore,” Alex said.
“Your mouth is probably sore from talking so much, though, huh?” Emily threw the ball way over Alex’s head so she had to go run for it. “I’ve had about enough family togetherness,” Emily said to Kyle.
“I feel like no one actually wants to dance tonight. I feel like we want to sleep.”
“Right?”
“There’s my mom,” Jacob said.
The gold Subaru came down the driveway. Anna Partel waved.
“She said we could go to Great America on the way home.”
Kyle stood by Jacob. Coach Malone’s voice boomed in his head: Never lie to a kid. He tried to think of what to say, something that would be honest but not depressing.
“You’re probably not going to have the best summer,” he said. “Like, it’s not going to be the absolute best summer of your life, I think we can say that. Right?”
Jacob eyed him, suspicious. “Yeah.”
“But it doesn’t mean everything is shit. I promise.” He glanced toward Anna, sitting in the car. She’d better really be taking him to Great America. “Remember, it’s okay to still feel good if you want. Like, if you’re having fun, don’t stop and go, ‘Oh yeah, my parents’ and think you shouldn’t have fun. But . . .” Dang, it was hard to give a pep talk about this and still be honest. “But like, if you’re not having fun and you are sad and it does feel like everything is shit? It’s okay to feel that, too.”
Anna called out the window. “We gotta go, sweetheart. Get Chase.”
Kyle leaned down and said quietly to Jacob, “Just remember, sometimes adults are kinda . . . dumb.”
Jacob nodded and called Chase. The way he called, “Here boy, here, Chase,” all cheerful while patting his leg, made Kyle’s heart hurt.
Alex and Emily walked over, and Alex gave Jacob a hug, and it was super awkward, especially when Alex started to cry. Emily pulled Alex to her side. When Jacob had gotten in the car, Emily said to Alex, “You did a good job being really nice to him when he got dumped with a bunch of strangers. It really helped.”
“He’s not even looking back!” She kept crying as the car went up the drive. Emily rubbed her back and mouthed, “The drama!” to Kyle over Alex’s shoulder.
He laughed a little, but honestly Alex was breaking his heart too. Her scrawny body and giant tears and the way she still kept looking up the drive, like the Subaru was going to come back, were the total embodiment of the pain of saying goodbye. And he knew his turn was coming.