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hardest to figure out which ties matched which suit.
    And this is only for the rehearsal dinner , Calder thought.
    A fire truck ran into his ankle, and he looked down. A pair of nervous blue eyes looked up, white-blond hair flopping in front of them.
    “Sorry,” the kid said very quietly.
    “It’s okay,” said Calder, but the kid was off again, racing the fire truck down the hallway.
    Calder couldn’t remember the kid’s name. He’d been born after Calder had left, just like all three of Ingrid’s kids.
    That was why they looked at him like he was a stranger, instead of their uncle. He was a stranger.
    Shane and Elliott walked through the front door, and without stopping, Elliott scooped up the kid with the fire truck and plopped him onto his shoulders. The kid squealed with delight, and Greta looked up.
    “Hi,” she said, giving them both a kiss. “Ready?”
    Another kid charged between the three of them, then tripped over her own feet, poofy dress flying over her head. The kid froze, her face scrunching up like she was about to cry, but then the moment passed, and she decided not to.
    Instead she got to her feet and looked up at the three adults.
    “Hi Uncle Shane,” she said, very softly.
    Then she turned around and ran away at top speed.
    Calder pulled the final knot through his tie and looked at himself in the mirror again. The suit wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would do well enough. Particularly since he’d bought it that morning from a suit store in Canyon City, on an awkward outing with Shane and one of Ingrid’s mates.
    They were family , but barely knew each other. He’d met Shane and Elliott for the first time yesterday.
    It was weird, being single in this madhouse. Ingrid had been happily mated for years, and even Greta was finally tying the knot. Watching everyone tangled together, fixing hair and lifting kids and laughing and fixing collars just made him feel even more single.
    I was the first one , Calder thought. Before it was even legal to get married.
    If it had been legal then, we would have gotten married.
    Maybe it was for the best that they hadn’t. In a way, Calder had been able to pretend that things in Rustvale were exactly like he left them. Getting a divorce would have shattered that particular illusion pretty thoroughly.
    “Okay,” Calder’s Papa shouted, raising his voice over the chaos. “The first van is leaving for Page’s. Who’s on it?”
    Calder shrugged, then raised his hand. When everyone looked around, it seemed like they took a minute to remember who he was.

    Somehow, he ended up squished into the middle of the back seat of a minivan, with Greta on one side and Ingrid on the other, Ingrid’s kids in the seat in front of them in car seats. Every time the van went over a bump, Calder hit his head on the ceiling.
    “It’s like a family vacation again,” Greta said. Her face was glowing.
    “Please, God, no,” said Ingrid.
    Calder held up one finger, half a centimeter away from Ingrid’s shoulder.
    “I’m not touching you,” he said.
    She rolled her eyes, but smiled.
    “I was just telling someone the other day about the time that you convinced Greta that burgers were made of cow poop, so next time we had them for dinner, she threw a fit and it took forever to figure out what was wrong,” Ingrid said.
    Calder looked down at his other sister and grinned.
    “Sorry,” he said.
    “You are not,” Greta said.
    “Do you remember throwing one of your blocks at me and hitting me square in the eye?” he asked. “I had a black eye for two weeks. I think my teacher almost reported us to Child Protective Services.”
    Greta laughed.
    “Sorry,” she said.
    “Remember when you drew mustaches on all her Nine Inch Nails posters when she was fourteen or fifteen?” Ingrid offered.
    “I’m still mad about that,” Greta said.
    “But you tore my copy of Fight Club into little pieces,” Calder pointed out. “And you tried to tear up Atlas Shrugged , but I caught