One, I wouldn’t see Anya for a week. And two, my oldest sister, Zoey, was incredibly nosy.“So, are you seeing anyone?” she asked. She was kneeling on the floor, changing the diaper of her youngest, Sam.“Do you have to do that right there?” I asked, avoiding her question.“What? Does it bother you?” She wrapped up the poop-filled diaper and threw it at me.“Gah!” I dodged left, and it hit the floor. She laughed, scooping up her kid. “How old are you again?” I asked. “Geez.”“Quit being such a baby. Go throw that away, will ya?”“Um, no.”“Fine. Then take him.” She plopped Sam on my lap and picked up the pile of stink off the floor.Sam was nine months old, big enough to stop being a blob and start being cute. “Your mom is a crazy lady, did you know that?” Sam grinned up at me, drool slipping out of his mouth. Zoey walked back into the room and smacked the back of my head.“Don’t tell him that.”“Why? I’m sure he already knows it.”“He likes you,”
