I knew exactly what Aunt Ellen was saying when she locked the front door. It was explaining it to Kaylee that was the problem. At four years old, she barely understands why people wear underwear when they’re going to put on pants anyway.

“Just stay back in the kitchen for now,” she said. My father had just arrived, ready to take us away from his criminal situation. He reached the door and knocked. Aunt Ellen didn’t breathe. She was home alone and always feared her brother, although he had never shown any sign of violence.

My dad peered through the stained glass and knocked again. When there was no answer, he tried the knob. Nothing.

“Ellen!” he yelled.

Her Lexus was parked in the garage, so he had no way of knowing anyone was home. But when they spoke on the phone earlier, he thought she understood he was coming at 2:30. His charges were cleared, and he was ready to move on. Uncle Tony would help sell the current house.

“Kevin? Kaylee? It’s dad!”

No response. So he sat on the porch.

An hour went by and Aunt Ellen knew he wasn’t going away. She told us to go into the basement and watch television, which was strange because she hated television.

Rather than open the door and explain any awkwardness, she got on her jogging suit, strapped on a fannypack and headphones. The sliding glass door leading to the backyard was quiet enough to slip out without any noise. We watched her jog in place for a minute, then in circles to work up a sweat. That was funny. Who needed television? She ran around the side of the house and powerwalked up the street.

“Ooh,” she said, “Sorry, David. I lost track of time.”

My father stood up and looked at her outfit.

“Yes, you have.”

She laughed nervously. He didn’t react.

“Where are the kids?”

“Inside, I thought.”

She powerstepped up to the door, unzipped her fannypack and retrieved the key. Unlocking the door, she turned to her brother, faking her heavy breathing. “Are you sure you want to take them?”

“Of course, what else would I do?”

“Leave them here.”

“Do you really want them? Or do you just not want them with me?”

Aunt Ellen pushed open the door. The time she took on answering that question told enough.

“That’s what I thought.” And my dad sprang into the house. “Kevin? Kaylee?”

We rocketed upstairs the moment we heard his voice. As much as we knew our father was screwing up, we trusted him to take good care of us. And when our eyes met, he opened his arms like he always did. We rushed to his side and hugged him briskly.

“Not that I don’t think it’s a good idea,” my father then said to his sister Ellen. His stare was plain and stoic. “Maybe we can work something out for the short term. Then I could come get them once I’m settled elsewhere.”

“Well, given your history and this current predicament,” she replied, “their welfare wouldn’t be compromised if they stayed here for good.”

His stare folded into a scowl. The big sister had pushed the button. “Have you spoken Lisa lately?”

“No, why?”

“Just wondering how the good twin is.”