“You think sending her to a crazy house is going to help?” he asked, sounding scandalized. “Do you know what those places are like?”
I frowned. “That’s a terrible term to use. Mental health issues have enough of a stigma. Getting someone the help they need isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”
Now it was Evan’s turn to frown.
“You think you know what my mom needs better than I do?” he said. “I’m the one who’s been taking care of her for years.”
“You told me yourself, it’s a vicious cycle,” I said. “She doesn’t get any better, she just goes through better and worse phases. Don’t you want her to get better for good?”
“There is no for good,” Evan growled, hefting his bag over his shoulder and heading to the front door. “This is how she’s always been.”
“That doesn’t mean it always has to be this way,” I said.
“I can handle it, okay?” Evan snapped. He turned away, not facing me. “You don’t need to try and fix this. It’s not your problem or your family to worry about.”
“Evan…” I reached out a hand to touch his shoulder.
He flinched away from me.
“Just forget about it, okay?” he said shortly. “You’ve got an early shift tomorrow. You should get some sleep.”
He left the apartment, closing the door behind him without another look.
It was shocking, and it hurt. I’d never known Evan to be this stubborn about anything.
I’d thought Evan and I were getting to the point where we were each other’s family. His problems were my problems.
But clearly, he didn’t feel the same way.
It hurt that he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me about his mom before now. He’d only confessed because I refused to let him go without me. How long would he have kept it up, pretending everything was okay? How long would I have been in the dark about this awful situation looming over his head?
He’d gotten mad at me for not asking him immediately who Christie was when I saw her messages. He’d wondered out loud how long I would have kept on pretending everything was fine.
All the while, there he was, doing the same thing to me. Hiding something this important from me, not letting me in, always deflecting when I probed about his past and home life.
I lay in bed, restless and unable to sleep.
Didn’t Evan trust me? Didn’t he want me to be a part of his life?
I’d thought he had. Maybe I’d been wrong.
Maybe Evan didn’t care about me as much as I cared about him.
I’d begun to hope, begun to wish, that maybe Evan had come to love me.
Now all that wishing and hoping was splintering in the deepest parts of my heart.
If Evan didn’t trust me or care enough about me to share something this important, maybe I’d been wrong about everything between us.
Maybe Evan wasn’t my happily-ever-after.
28
I got up early, almost forgetting Evan wasn’t in bed next to me for a brief moment. I found a text from him telling me that after making sure his mom and Christie were going to be okay for the day, he would go straight to Sin and Tonic for his shift.
Giving us no time to talk through what had happened last night.
That seemed to be Evan’s way of dealing with arguments. By not dealing with them at all. It was always the silent treatment with him.
Like Reagan had said — both of us lacked healthy communication skills.
I frowned down at the phone in my one hand as I crammed a piece of toast into my mouth with the other. I kept re-reading it, hoping to catch some clue as to Evan’s state of mind that morning.
Was he sorry he’d snapped at me? Chagrined at what he’d said? Pissed off at me for interfering?
All I’d wanted to do was be there for Evan. Instead, it had blown up in my face.
He couldn’t avoid me forever, though. We had a shift together at Sin and Tonic.
But when I got to the bar for my afternoon shift, Mason immediately took my elbow and ushered me into the back office.
“I’m swamped in paperwork over here,” he said urgently. “Do you mind looking at some of the numbers again? You did a great job last time, and I just don’t have the brain space to do it myself.”
He really trusted me with this stuff. It was heartwarming and distressing at the same time. It felt good to have someone trust me with something this important, but knowing that he put his faith in me only made me anxious, knowing that I couldn’t let him down.
“Sure,” I told him. “I’ll take a look.”
That was how I ended up in the office for most of the night. Score one point for Evan — he barely had to speak two words to me the entire first half of our shift.
Usually, I wouldn’t have minded being left alone with spreadsheets. But this time, the numbers were indecipherable. I couldn’t make heads or tails out of the paperwork. A pit of despair began to yawn open in my stomach. Mason believed in me, but I was in way over my head. The previous times must have been a fluke. Nothing was making any kind of sense.
I came out to take a break when the anxiety grew too strong. I helped Lizzy with the tables and took the opportunity to quench my thirst — with water, not alcohol — and munch on the bar snacks.
I did manage to spot Evan during a lull in the clamoring of customers. The undersides of his eyes were dark and bruised. There was an anxious twitch in his left eyebrow, and his lips were pale and bloodless. The sight of him was enough to distract me from my own angst and doubts.
“Hey,” I said carefully as I approached the bar where he was wiping down the sticky counter. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Fine,” he said curtly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“From the way Christie and you were acting, she was in a bad state yesterday,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure she’s doing okay.”
Evan’s ramrod straight back eased a bit.
“It’ll take a while for the meds to kick back in, but she knows we’re going to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s taking them.” A frown line appeared between his brows. “Christie hates the feeling of forcing our mom to do something against her will, so I’ll probably be visiting every day for the next while just to make sure.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine how hard this whole thing must be.”
Evan shrugged listlessly. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
“Maybe I can help?” I offered. “I can take care of some of those visits, too. Make sure your mom’s still doing okay.”
“I don’t need you to worry about this,” he said.
“You may not want me to, but I’m going to worry anyway.”
He threw down the towel, the wet fabric smacking loudly against the counter.
“It’s not your problem,” he snapped. “It’s my family and my problem to deal with. Let it go, okay?”
I knew this was a difficult situation. I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Evan, navigating his mom’s illness, monitoring her every day to make sure she was staying on her medications, worrying about his sister and how she was handling everything.
But as much as my heart ached for him, I couldn’t help but feel like his stubbornness was going to be his downfall. He’d been managing his mom’s illness for years, but he couldn’t keep going like this forever. He already looked close to coming apart at the seams.
It might not have been my job to fix his problems, but Evan’s wellbeing was important to me. I couldn’t just act like this part of his life wasn’t happening.
“I can’t just let it go,” I told him.
“Look, everything’s going to be fine, all right?” he said, exasperated. “Stop worrying. I just want things to go back to the way they were before.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to just go on pretending,” I said. “The next time Christie needs to escape the house for a day, I’ll pretend she’s just dropping in for dinner. The next time you have to rush out of the apartmen
t to take care of your mom, I’ll pretend it’s just a normal family visit. Is that how you want it?”
“Yes,” he scowled. “That’s exactly how I want it.”
“Well, I can’t do that,” I said. “I can’t pretend something this important isn’t happening.”
“It’s not your problem,” he bit out. “Just forget about it.”
“Your mother’s illness is a big part of your life. I won’t ignore it just because it’s difficult. If I’m going to be a part of your life, then I’m going to be a part of this, too.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be a part of my life,” he snapped.
I inhaled a sharp breath. A stabbing sensation shot through my chest. Evan pressed his lips together, not saying anything more. He picked up the wet rag again and went back to scrubbing at the counter.
“Fine.” I swallowed hard. “If that’s how you want it.”
I whirled around on my heel, storming back to Mason’s office. Tears stung my eyes and fell down my cheeks before I had a chance to close the door.
My chest burned hot with anger, even as my heart clenched painfully.
It was clear that Evan wanted to handle this on his own. Apparently, the last thing he wanted was my help. But there was no way I could pretend something this important wasn’t a part of his life. I wasn’t going to watch him run out of the apartment after a frantic phone call and just go to bed alone like nothing was happening.
Maybe Evan could separate those two parts of his life. He could work at Sin and Tonic and date girls and never once mention what he was dealing with in his private life.
I couldn’t do that. If I was going to be with someone, I was going to be all in, one hundred percent, sharing everything, the good and the bad.
After all, that was what Evan had done for me. He knew all the terrible parts of my life, as much as he knew the good parts. I just wanted to do the same for him.
But it was plainly obvious he wasn’t going to let me.
From the way Evan was so tight-lipped about himself, he was clearly able to compartmentalize these different parts of his life. Maybe it even made a little bit of sense, that when he was at home with me he would want to pretend everything as normal, at least until the next emergency call from Christie.
But that wasn’t the kind of relationship I wanted. Sure, maybe I wanted a happily-ever-after, but that didn’t mean I wanted to live in a fairy tale. I knew real life was messy. My own life was the proof of that.
I knew I could handle it. I could handle the good and the bad when it came to Evan and his mother’s illness. I wasn’t going to be scared off.
But Evan wasn’t going to give me the chance to prove it.
Was this it? Was this the end? Was he really going to give me that kind of ultimatum?
Act like nothing was wrong, pretend his mother wasn’t sick, ignore this huge burden weighing him down…
…or break up for good?
My phone rang. I jumped. The caller ID said unknown. I contemplated ignoring it, but since phone calls were so rare, curiosity won out.
“Hello?” I answered tentatively.
“Alice,” my mother said primly. “We’re having a dinner.”
I paused, waiting for her to continue.
“And?” I asked.
“We’re requesting your presence.” She could barely contain her impatience.
“I’m not sure I—”
“Jacob and his family will be there,” she cut in.
“Now I’m really sure I don’t—”
“Alice, we are trying to mend bridges, and an apology on your part would be…” She let out a small huff through her nose. “It would be appreciated,” she finished. “Especially by Jacob.”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to apologize for living my own life, but it was true that Jacob’s family was out a lot of money for the wedding, not to mention the humiliation and the blow to their reputation. I also hadn’t really considered Jacob’s feelings in all of this.
Guilt filled my chest.
We’d never had a grand passion, and I’d never been convinced he even loved me, but still, he must have been hurt.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll come to dinner.”
29
My sister was the first person to greet me after tentatively lifting my hand to knock on the front door. It seemed odd to be knocking on the door to my own home, but I supposed it wasn’t my home. Not anymore. I had a new home now.
Or, I’d thought I did. I’d begun to think of Evan’s place as my new home. He had called it as much. But after what he’d said at the bar, after he’d said maybe I shouldn’t be in his life, I didn’t know what to think.
Evan hadn’t slept in his apartment the last few nights. I assumed he’d been staying with his mom, to help his sister take care of her. And, of course, to avoid talking with me. He barely spoke to me on the few shifts we’d had together. He didn’t respond to the few texts I’d sent. I didn’t bother trying to call his phone. I knew he wouldn’t answer if he saw it was me.
Communication issues, indeed.
At least I was going to spend one night not worrying about Evan. No, instead I was going to spend the night worrying about my parents, and my sister, and Jacob, and his parents.
I pressed a hand to my stomach to calm the roiling inside. I could make it through the evening. All I had to do was apologize, smile and nod, and play the part of the perfect daughter for one more night. I could handle that.
But as soon as my sister opened the front door and I was met with her sneer, all my previous doubts came rushing toward me.
“So you showed up after all,” my sister Grace said. “I half-expected you to back out.”
“I said I’d be here, so here I am.”
Grace’s mouth opened in a small O of shock. I never talked back, not to her, not to anyone. But I’d grown a lot over these last few months and I wasn’t going to let her mow over me anymore.
I pushed past her shoulder and walked into the front foyer.
“Am I early?” I asked, not seeing anyone else.
“You’re just in time.” My mother appeared and nodded her chin toward the dining room. “Everyone’s already gathered, but the food hasn’t been served yet. Follow me.”
I did as she said, not giving Grace another look. I could feel her scowling behind me as she closed the front door. She no doubt wanted to get the upper hand, to discomfit me before dinner, but I hadn’t given her the chance.
It turned out she hadn’t needed to, because I felt plenty discomfited when all eyes turned to me as I walked into the dining room. My father, Jacob, and Jacob’s mother and father, all with their eyes trained on me.
My father had his usual aloof expression, but from the slight easing of his eyes, I could tell he was relieved I’d shown up. He wouldn’t have said it out loud, but he had probably wondered, just like Grace, whether I’d chicken out or not.
Jacob’s parents had haughty looks to them as if they had better places to be, with a hint of displeasure in their pinched mouths. That was enough to tell me they were still upset, since they were both usually so stoic. I’d dated Jacob for not quite a year and yet I still could barely read them.
As for Jacob, he had a sympathetic smile on his face, the tilt of his head letting me know he was aware of how uncomfortable this was for me. He stood up and pulled out the empty chair next to him.
“It’s good to see you again, Alice,” he said. “Please, take a seat next to me.”
It was a lovely gesture, considering what I’d done to him. Any chair at that table had the risk of turning this evening into a disaster, but at least I wouldn’t have to put up with cutting remarks muttered under breaths if I choose the seat beside him.
I slid into the chair quickly, nodding politely at Jacob’s mother, who was on the other side of him.
My mother sat across from me with my sister Grace next to her. The two fathers at the table had claimed their places at either end.
I waite
d for someone to speak first, but they all looked at me expectantly. My father’s mouth was set firmly with a demanding jut of his chin. My mother’s eyes were narrowed insistently. My sister raised a single, sardonic eyebrow, as if to say, are you going to get on with it already?
This was where I was supposed to say I was sorry.
I supposed I was. I had caused a lot of trouble for these people, caused a lot of worry. I didn’t regret not going through with the wedding, but I could have done it in a much less explosive fashion.
I felt a brush of knuckles against my knee. Jacob gave me an encouraging nod. It was odd for my courage to be bolstered by the person I’d offended, but it gave me an easy place to start.
“Before we start dinner,” I began, “I want to apologize.”
No one said anything.
My throat went dry. I took a quick sip from my glass of water and tried again.
“I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused. I should have thought about the ramifications of my actions. I never meant to hurt anyone.” At this, I turned to Jacob. “I never meant to hurt you. Really. It’s just… I couldn’t…”
Under the table, I bunched my napkin in one fist. Jacob laid his hand over the one wrapped around my water glass.
“It’s okay,” he said. “A lot of people get cold feet.”
“It wasn’t cold feet,” I said. “I just couldn’t—”
“We appreciate the apology,” Jacob’s father spoke over me. His pinched mouth eased by the smallest of fractions. “It doesn’t make up for everything, of course, but it’s a start in the right direction.”
“A good start to the evening, I’d say,” my father replied.
The words from those two men were apparently enough for the subject to be dropped — for now, at any rate — and for dinner to begin. I let out a small sigh. All in all, that hadn’t been horrible.
The staff began bringing out the food, starting with an amuse-bouche consisting of a single cherry tomato, sliced in half, drizzled with olive oil, and topped with a spring of parsley, all presented with a flourish as each plate was set down in front of us.
After months of burritos and pizzas and bar snacks, all this pomp and circumstance over a single freaking cherry tomato was enough to make me choke out a snorting laugh through my nose.
Hot and Bothered (Sin and Tonic Book 4) Page 16