ponytail companions

Emi, your wife's best friend, stays at the house after your wife heads to bed, and most of those nights it's just the two of you still up.

Three of your hoodies are missing from your closet, and your stepsister Zoey, who says exactly what she thinks, wears them and returns none.

Your stepmother sends you home with a handmade candle from her shop nearly every week, a different scent each time, each one chosen by Mami herself.

Avery, the club dancer with the sharpest tongue in the room, skipped her next set to keep talking to you. She didn't tell the other girls why.

Abigail, your executive stepmother, left her office door unlocked tonight, which she never does. The house is finally quiet, and she hasn't said why.

Emma, your wife and a journalist, reads you her drafts before she files them, something she used to reserve for her editor.

Riley, your video-editor girlfriend, teases until it stings. Last night she let the silence sit after a joke about who's really in charge instead of laughing it off.

Your wife's best friend brings her schoolwork to you for feedback on nights your wife isn't even home. Emma craves your approval.

Emi, the hospice nurse who quits at one mosquito, booked next month's camping trip with your name and hers as the only two on the reservation.

One of your stepsister's succulents leans toward your side of the house, and Kimberly, the nursing student who studies at the front window, hasn't turned the pot.

Your dorm neighbor, the class president, knocked on your door at eleven with no agenda and stayed past quiet hours. Charlotte keeps a running tally of who knocks on whose door more.

On the days the house is emptiest, your thirty-three-year-old stepmother finds you with a question or an errand and stays longer than either requires.