“You met my mom,” I managed to say.
“That’s different and you know it.”
The front door to the Bennett house opened even before we reached the porch, like it always did, like they always knew I was coming.
Joe ran out the door. His smile was bright when he saw me. He glanced over at Jessie and something much more complex stuttered across his face that I couldn’t even begin to understand. His left hand curled into a fist and then it relaxed.
“Hey, Ox,” he said.
“Hi, Joe.”
He didn’t hug me like he normally did. He stayed on the porch. He looked unsure.
I dropped Jessie’s hand and took a step forward.
He jumped off the steps and crashed into me, his nose in my neck.
I laughed and held on tight. “Okay?” I whispered.
He shrugged. Then nodded. Rubbed his forehead on my shoulder.
Jessie started to take a step forward but I shook my head and she stopped.
Eventually, Joe slid down. He gripped my hand and stood rigidly at my side.
“Hi,” he muttered at Jessie. He glanced up at her face, then away. Then down.
“Hi, Joe,” Jessie said. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m glad to finally meet you.”
“Me too,” he said and then he grimaced because he didn’t sound like he meant that at all. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
He pulled me into the house, and Jessie followed behind.
I COULD see Jessie didn’t understand the Bennetts. Not like I did. They touched me. All of them. Hugs and hands on my neck and hair and arms and back. I was used to it. She was not.
Thomas and Elizabeth smiled warmly at her but did not touch her. No hands were offered. No kiss to the cheek.
It wasn’t rude. Or reserved. They laughed with her during dinner. Encouraged her to tell stories. Brought her in on the conversation. Made sure no inside family (pack) jokes went too far so she wouldn’t get lost.
But they did not touch her.
I took my usual place next to Joe. Jessie sat on my other side, the place normally reserved for my mother.
Sometimes Joe spoke. Sometimes he looked distant. I thought I heard him growl once, but he looked away. His hands were fists at his sides. Then they relaxed. His shoulders were hunched and he grimaced like he was in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I asked with a frown.
“Just stiff,” he muttered. His voice sounded low and scratchy.
“You sick?”
He shook his head.
Mark, Elizabeth, and Thomas were watching us when I looked up. Carter and Kelly were talking to Jessie. The three adults gave me answers with their vibrant eyes that I didn’t understand.
Joe took a breath and let it out slowly.