Page 26 of Keeping Score

“And neither do I!” She turned her nose up at me.

“Then say it,” Megan dared her.

“No.” Maggie refused.

“Why not?” I asked, poking her side.

“Because I know my speech patterns better than anyone,” she said, meeting everyone’s smug gaze, “and I know perfectly well that I know how to say ‘coffee.’”

The table erupted in a fit of laughter.

“There it is!” Leah pointed.

“Girls, leave her alone,” my dad ordered, but even he was biting back a laugh.

“Maggie, dear,” my mom reached out to grab her hand from across the table, “your accent is perfectly charming.”

Maggie sat back in her seat, defeated, but with a smile tugging at her lips anyway.

“At least I don’t call soda ‘pop’ like I’m in some fifty’s movie.”

“It’s okay, babe. You’re still the most beautiful woman in Boston.” I kissed her cheek. “Even if you do talk funny.”

Boston Common was still lit with Christmas lights, even though it was nearing the end of January.

I didn’t mind. It made the bleak winter feel more cozy, somehow. I could handle the cold, but the constant cover of gray skies and muddied mounds of snow made something in me die a little each time the season came around.

“That was nice,” Maggie said, taking a long inhale of the winter air. “It’s always so nice. How do you guys do that?”

“Do what?” I asked, looking over to where she walked on the path beside me.

“You all talk the whole time without any undermining or bashing each other or making each other feel like they’re not doing enough with their lives—”

“Uh, excuse me,” I interrupted with a laugh, “but did you miss the entire portion of dinner where everyone came at Leah for trying to make a career out of being a part-time meditation coach?”

“But even then,” Maggie said, “it was just teasing. She could still feel that you guys would support her no matter what.”

“That’s just family,” I shrugged.

“Not all,” she said. “Actually, not even most.”

I thought about it. I guess on one hand I knew she was right, but I’d never known anything different. My family genuinely loved each other and liked each other.

I didn’t stop to think that I might’ve taken it for granted all these years.

“I guess I am pretty lucky,” I admitted, feeling self-conscious about it somehow.

Maggie looked off into the distance, feeling like she was a million miles away from me.

“Hey,” I nudged her, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said.

“Bull.”

“I guess I just wish I could be part of something like that,” she admitted, refusing to meet my eyes. “I mean, I have both my parents and a brother—but they’re all so separate, you know? I hate that we’re so broken up from each other.”

“You already are part of something like that,” I told her. “You’re a Callahan already, through and through.”