Excerpt from Saints of the Household by Ari Tison, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

WELCOME BACK TO DEER CREEK, MINNESOTA


After Nicole's parents split up, her mom stayed here in Deer Creek and her dad moved to Minneapolis. When I saw on Snapchat that Nicole was moving back to Deer Creek over winter break to live with her mom, I didn't know what to think. In a way, it felt like family was moving home. Dad cut all his family out, Nicole's mom included, when he lost his job at the car dealership when we were fourteen.

Nicole's social media had gone quiet for a while, so it makes sense she wasn't getting my messages. Before she moved back, I hadn't sent her one message, unless it was on her birthday. But I did keep up, in a way. Her stories were always full of photos of her with friends, a former, I assume, boyfriend who looked like he really liked her. In some of her Instagram posts, she's wearing a jingle dress at powwows. In others, she's holding her new baby sister from her dad and his new girlfriend. The baby is really cute. She has the lightest brown skin, pink lips, and dark hair. Another post was of her and Luca getting dinner in Minneapolis. Another of Nicole with her mom at the sale of a house in Deer Creek announcing she was moving back during the winter break to finish her last year and a half of high school here. It was in November, and Shelly and Nicole both wore big warm jackets and beaded bright earrings that I'd seen in Tia's shop.

I don't know why she'd leave the city for Deer Creek. This halfsuburb, half–small town that gets its brightness only from the 7-Eleven signs and maple leaves in the fall. Maybe she misses her mom. Shelly is a socialite. Always on top of things. The busiest person. She's on signs all around town for her booming realty business.

I asked Max what he thought, showing him the photo of Nicole and her mom smiling in front of a sold sign.

He laughed. "Yeah. If I were her, I'd never move back here," he said dryly.

I still remember the first day of school after Nicole moved in with her dad in Minneapolis. Max and me, all of a sudden, the only Native kids here.

Her most recent post was during winter break, a photo of her and Luca in the snow at a tree farm. He's holding her from behind, kissing her cheek, and she's laughing.

And what had we done, right when Nicole got back? How could she hug me like that after what I did to Luca? But she did today.


INTERCOM


They read Max's and my name along with fifty others, all on the honor roll from last semester. Pins are being sold. Stickers are available.

At home, Max and I put the stickers on the kitchen table, and Dad puts one on each side of his bumper. We shake our heads as we watch him from the living room window.

"What an asshole," Max says, his arms crossed.


LUCA


For our first meeting with Luca, Max is leaning back in his chair, and I know he has little remorse. We are not our father, he told me in all surety when I couldn't sleep last night. We didn't know what was happening.

We did what we could for what we saw. And every time, I want to believe him. But when I see Luca, the healing bruises on his nose, a soft purple on his light brown skin, over his brow beneath dark hair, I am unsure if I went too far. If I could have stopped.

In our meeting, Luca doesn't say anything. He looks expectant.

I'm sorry, I say, that we hurt you.

Max turns and eyes me.

I'm sorry, I rephrase, that I hurt you.

I want Max to say something, too, because we need to prove to our school that we are decent people. If we don't do these talks and counseling, it will make getting into college difficult. Not that I worry too much about myself, because I don't know if I could leave Mom. Max wants to go big and get out. His target art school's opening deadline was earlier this month, but he decided to wait for its last application date to have a better chance at proving himself. So I'm doing this for him and, I don't know, a little for me. But Max is not about it. He wants his pride and art school. He is looking right into Luca's eyes while Luca sits in a chair across from us. Silent. Our counselor says, I think we are done for today. We'll come back together in two weeks.

Excerpted from Saints of the Household by Ari Tison. Copyright © 2023 by Ari Tison. Excerpted by permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.