TODD:
He couldn’t breathe in there. The guilt he felt over what he had done and almost did to Sandy was killing him. Why the hell did she have to care about him? Why now?
Mimi followed him out to the porch, weaving around his ankles. He sat on the steps, wanting a cigarette, needing something to waste his time and soothe his mind so that he could make it through this damn holiday.
He had been shocked when his Aunt Linda invited him over. He had only answered the phone because he thought there must be some dire emergency for her to call, Grandma in the hospital or something tragic like that. But Thanksgiving? She barely wanted him there when he lived with them. Why the hell would she ever invite him now? She hadn’t last year, not that he was complaining. He’d much rather have been with the Pascarellis. They actually somewhat liked him.
Mimi rubbed against his side, demanding attention as usual. The girl was screwed up in the head, just like him. Mimi and Todd made a perfectly odd pair. The loner stoner and the fragile little attention whore. She had healed up and put some weight on while in his care. He could barely feel her ribs anymore, and she didn’t look so scrappy now. The poor thing had been malnourished and neglected for too long.
He had been that way once.
Sandy stepped outside and thumped down the steps past him. She stood on the lawn, blocking his car from view, as if trying to make him forget that he had a way out of this dinner. “Is everything alright?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Fuckin’ fantastic,” he mumbled.
“You never called me back. I had some important things to tell you.”
He looked up, squinting from the sunlight. “Like what?” he grunted.
“About Aurora.”
He glanced away, focusing on Mimi’s soft gray fur. “I don’t want to hear about her.”
The last thing he wanted was to think about Aurora. She wasn’t in his head anymore; he hadn’t heard her whispers in weeks, not even when he got in his car. Her power over him was finally fading.
“I think she went after you because of something I did a long time ago,” Sandy began guiltily.
“It doesn’t matter why she did,” he muttered. “I don’t give a damn why she did. I just-” He met her eyes again, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Did you mean what you said to me?”
She shifted her stance with a confused expression.
“At my apartment?” he reminded her. “That you don’t need to know what I’ve done? Because I can tell you.”
“Do you want to tell me?” she asked carefully.
He frowned and stared down at Mimi. He wanted to push it out in the open and let her judge him, but what purpose would that serve? She had already forgiven him. To tell her now would just hurt her and probably make her a hypocrite.
“Then don’t tell me,” she decided for him. “I do have something else to tell you.”
He reluctantly met her eyes again.
“You need to know… Amelia’s dating someone. Some guy named Mark,” she scoffed, drawing out his name bitterly.
He ground his foot on the step. “I know. He’s a cop.”
“You hate cops,” she stated.
“No. Cops hate me,” he corrected. “Tony’s not happy about it. He says the guy’s a real jackass. Although there’s next to no one that Tony would approve of. He’s probably a decent guy.”
“I told her off, sorta. She shouldn’t-”
Todd gave a sigh that was part growl, cutting Sandy off mid-sentence. “Whatever you’re about to say, stop. Amelia deserves way better than me. I treated her like crap.”
“But… it wasn’t your fault,” she stammered.
He shook his head. “I had plenty of chances to change things, but I didn’t. I let her go. Don’t give her a hard time for accepting that. She deserves to be happy.”
He truly wished that for Amelia. He would only drag her down, and he could never forgive himself for fucking around with Aurora for months. What kind of person was he? Screwed, that’s what. Depraved.
Sandy pouted, looking so different from the wild-haired priss that used to despise him. She wasn’t so hard anymore, not as angry and guarded. That was Eric’s doing, it had to be. Things must be tight between them because she would never have let her walls down otherwise. He must make her feel safe. Odd considering what little he knew about their past. It might be plain stupidity on her part, but he had no right to judge anyone’s choices, not after the mess he’d made of his own life.
“You deserve happiness too,” she said confidently.
God, he never expected to be having this conversation with her. “I deserve shit, Sandy. It’s sweet that you think otherwise, but so damn wrong.”
She shifted, looking uneasily at her feet. “It’s not your fault. You never got what you needed. The mistakes you’ve made… they’re not your fault.”
He kept his head down, trying to keep her words from affecting him. A part of him knew what she said was true. He hadn’t had the best start in his life, and no eight-year-old could be blamed for what he went through. For how screwed up he became. But he was an adult now. Change was solely in his own two hands.
His little cousin reluctantly passed him. “You’re a good guy, Todd,” she said, heading into the house without looking at him again.
Her words rang as a haunting echo in his head.
Mimi bumped her forehead against his arm, making him move it so that she could climb onto his lap. He scooped her close, listening to her soft purrs, trying not to relive the regret of every bad decision he had ever made. It used to be easier to deal with back when he felt like his life was going somewhere-but now he just felt ashamed.
He heard the creak of a door, and his glance shot to the porch next door. Aurora’s aunt emerged from the house. Maryann Bacster. Her hair looked unkempt, and she appeared exhausted.
He quickly shuffled his hold on Mimi, covertly stuffing her into the body of his hoodie. Mimi poked her little head out above the zipper, but he pushed it back down.
Maryann looked to him. Their eyes locked, and his heart hammered wildly in his chest.
He shifted, putting his back to her, further shielding Mimi from sight. There was no way in hell that he would lose another cat to Aurora or one of her minions. He had seen Maryann’s name in the guest book at the mental hospital. She went to see Aurora almost as often as he used to. He refused to fail Mimi the way he had Jameson. He had so little worth protecting in his miserable life, but he was determined to keep his neurotic little cat safe. He stood, keeping Mimi well hidden and hurried back inside.
CHAPTER 9
LOOK AWAY
Todd assumed his role from years ago, the silent shadow making occasional grumbling complaints on the cooking skills of others. He filled his hands with work, cleaning the kitchen as messes were made, and set the dining table, moving so efficiently that Eric and I couldn’t do much more than just try to stay out of the way.
“So, you’ve never been ice skating, huh?” Eric asked with a sly look. “I am so taking you.”
“You skate?” I asked eagerly.
“I played ice hockey,” he explained.
I jokingly rolled my eyes. “Oh, right. Silly me, you’re athletic.”
He chuckled. “That’s what you keep telling me.”
Todd carried a bowl of vegetables into the dining room with Mimi weaving around his ankles, rubbing against the fraying fabric of his jeans. “Sandy, take her, would you?”
“Take her?” I repeated.
“Pick her up or I’ll step on her. She doesn’t friggin’ learn. I’ve already done it twice.”
I stared awkwardly at the cat as Todd set the serving dish on the table. He picked up Mimi and shoved her rather roughly into my arms. “She won’t fuckin’ bite,” he snapped.
“What about scratch?” I asked uneasily, holding her awkwardly. I had never been an animal person, at least not in this life, and Mimi seemed just as uncomfortable in my arms. Todd ignored my opposition and disappear
ed into the kitchen.
“I can take her,” Eric offered. He gently plucked the cat from my arms and cradled her against his chest. She squirmed for a moment, but once he scratched the underside of her chin, she nuzzled softly in response.
I envied the ease he had when holding her, the loving nature he had that I just didn’t. Had I ever been so affectionate? In any previous life?
“Do you think I’m cold-hearted?” I asked.
He met my eyes, brow quirked curiously. “Not at all. Not everyone’s an animal person.”
“Shouldn’t I be? I had a farm of sorts before,” I countered, thinking of the little garden and chickens from my first life.
“Of animals meant for food. Not pets.”
“My chickens were for eggs,” I argued.
He threw his head back, laughing. “Chickens? Really? There’s a reason we call cow beef and sheep mutton, but chicken is just chicken. They’re like the most annoying farm animal. My grandparents had a rooster who would stalk me, always trying to peck me to death. That thing was vicious.”
When I didn’t get caught up in his laughter, the excitement died on his face, giving way to concern. “Do you really think of yourself that way?” he asked.
“What?”
“Cold?” he asked.
I shrugged matter-of-factly. “I am.”
“You’re not,” he said plainly. He looked at Mimi and scratched behind her ears. “I think you love deeper and stronger than most people. You don’t show it, but it’s there. Todd’s the same way.”
I was stunned. Did Eric really think that about me? That I loved too deep? Could it be true? It didn’t seem likely, but maybe he could see something in me that I couldn’t.
“What if I wanted to show it?” I inquired.
He offered the cat to me. “Try it out, hold her.”
“No thanks,” I muttered, backing away.
Todd walked back into the room carrying a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes and noticed that his cat had changed hands. He snorted, shaking his head at me as he set the bowl down.
“So, Eric, how’d you con yourself an invite? I thought you’d be blacklisted for life,” Todd challenged.
“Like you?” he countered.
They were incredibly tense around each other. According to Tony, they had gotten along well while I was sick, almost like actual friends, but all that I had seen since was hostility.
“Can’t you two get along?” I muttered, plucking a piece of melon from the fruit salad and popping it in my mouth.
Eric politely took the first step toward civility. “My mom,” he answered. “She didn’t want me driving back home. Traffic and all…” he said in excuse. We both knew she was just trying to force my parents into giving him half a chance. And that’s all he was getting.
Todd gave a mocking laugh. “Your mom scored you an invite? What are you? Ten?”
Before Eric had a chance to respond, I cut in. “As if your mom would ever,” I snapped. I wasn’t willing to sit by while he put Eric down. I loved them both, but Eric was being polite, and Todd was not.
My cousin snorted and nodded. “Got me there.” He crossed his arms, staring at Eric again with his head cocked, oozing with arrogance. “So, tell me. What’s it like to have a parent who loves you? Sandy and I are dying to know.”
I turned away, hating his snide question and the feelings it dredged up. It was hard not to feel jealousy whenever Eric and his mom talked over the phone. Their conversations had become much less frequent while we were focused on our past, but their closeness was still something that I struggled not to resent him for. Especially since the infrequent calls from my parents were only to update me on Aurora’s progress. Sick. Like I really wanted to hear about the girl who tried to kill me. A shiver rocked my shoulders as I recalled the bone-chilling fear I had felt as she thrust the knife at me, seconds before Eric shot her.
Mimi scampered past my feet, dodging into the living room, and Eric’s warm hands settled on my shoulders. I shuddered at his touch.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Todd apologized quietly.
I shook my head, trying to seem unaffected. I couldn’t help getting emotional, but I refused to make a show of it. Walking out of Eric’s hold, I faced them both. “Please,” I drawled. “My feelings aren’t hurt.”
Todd smirked awkwardly, reading my lie too easily. He took a quick step forward and wrapped his arms around me. I was engulfed by warm, bulging muscle. His sudden affection took me off guard. I hadn’t expected it. His hand stroked the back of my head like he used to do before I ruined everything. I leaned in weakly, basking in his affections.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered so softly in my ear that I couldn’t be sure if I imagined it or not.
It didn’t last. The hug was as brief and fleeting as I would have expected from him. Before I knew it, he had disappeared into the kitchen.
I slowly met Eric’s eyes. They were soft, knowing just how much that single moment meant to me. I could have cried. Todd had finally forgiven me.
TODD:
Dinner was uncomfortable, as expected. Sandy and Eric flirted silently with one another, passing food with lingering glances, but stopped short of feeding each other. Eric ate with his left hand and Sandy with her right while they held hands under the table. Every sickeningly tender moment was met with disapproving glances from her parents, which left Todd feeling the need to come to their defense. He didn’t understand what their fucking problem was. Let the girl have something good. Just one fucking little thing. Eric wasn’t so bad.
His grandma smiled across the table at him. He attempted a facial expression, preferably something leaning toward a smile, but failed. Oh well. It wasn’t like it would have convinced anyone that he was happy to be there.
He glanced to his Uncle Jack, who was cutting into the dry slab of turkey on his plate. His hair was beginning to thin on top, and Todd fought the urge to smirk at that bit of news. He didn’t completely succeed. Aunt Linda stared disapprovingly, so he looked straight back at her. “Did Aurora ask you to have me here?” he inquired pointedly.
Her perfectly plucked brows shot up with shock. “Of course not. And don’t you tell her either. I don’t want this to upset her progress.”
Well, that squashed the theory that Aurora had arranged this get-together.
His aunt gave a calculated glance over at Eric, and if looks could kill or even maim, Eric would be a sticky puddle of guts on the floor. Todd had to struggle not to give a sarcastic remark to that. He ground his fist into his leg to keep his big mouth shut. Eric noticed the look but made no response, as if death stares were just part of his daily routine.
Onto the next question. He cringed as the words left his lips, “Have you talked to Mom?”
Though the gathering had already seemed quiet, now he could hear crickets chirping in China. “Yes. She’s fine,” Linda mumbled, trying to finish with the subject of her only sibling quickly. “Eric, please tell your mother that we appreciate her giving up this holiday with you so that you could spend it here with us.” She smiled, scooping mashed potatoes carefully onto her fork. “Valarie’s such a sweet girl.” She laughed at herself, brushing a curtain of dyed red hair back over her shoulder. “Woman, I mean. She just seems so young. How young is she?”
Eric swallowed his food quickly, looking as though her question took him off guard. “Thirty-eight.”
Todd tensed, instantly alert. His aunt’s way of saying her name-tongue dripping with sugar-was all too familiar. His heart stuttered in his chest as he recalled the first time he had heard Aurora’s name drop from her lips. The lilt was the same.
He searched Eric’s pretty-boy face, trying to see… well, anything unusual. Any hint or sign. There was nothing suspicious as Eric glanced over at Sandy.
Todd leaned back impatiently and tapped his fork on his plate, thinking much too hard for a holiday. If it wasn’t because of Aurora, or his mom, then why the hell had he been invited to dinner?
It was clear now why Eric was. But him? The resented nephew? His grandma wasn’t jumping to her feet with welcome for him, so it wasn’t at her request. Then how the hell…
His grandma was staring at him.
“It’s nice that you ask about your mother. She misses you,” she said.
Damn. He should have seen that coming. He ripped a chunk of turkey from the slab on his plate and held it down by the floor for Mimi. She ate it out of his palm, whiskers tickling his skin, and he used that small feeling to keep detached from the coming conversation.
“You don’t call her anymore,” his grandma mentioned.
“That’s right,” he muttered. But that didn’t stop her from calling him.
“You should be with her right now.”
He gave a derisive snort. “She doesn’t do Thanksgiving. I always did.”
He could barely reach the stove when he had made Thanksgiving dinner for the first time. He had wanted what everyone else had and what he used to have-that picturesque holiday. He knew the seemingly innocent questions the teachers would ask the Monday after. He’d sat through too many stories from other kids about what a great time they’d had, and he had faked so many stories in the past that he hadn’t wanted to lie anymore.
He hadn’t done too terrible cooking, though there was no proof of that. His mom had been passed out drunk on the sofa the entire day. She was damn lucky he hadn’t burned the house down, or she’d be dead. He’d sort of wished he had when she finally woke to find he’d stolen money from her purse for groceries. She beat the shit out of him for it and then threw the food away for added punishment. So, sure, he got to share a true story of all the special food, but conveniently left out any mention of the bruises it earned him.
“This is a time for family,” his grandma pressed. Her tone was soft, but to the trained ear it was a sharp reprimand, and it struck a blow.
“Family? Then what the fuck is this?” he snapped without thinking.
“Todd!” Linda shouted at him in warning.
His grandma remained calm. “I just meant that it would be nice for you to visit her. She doesn’t have anyone,” she explained.
Envious Deception Page 10