She squeezed onto the couch, making Jami take a chair in the corner. The brownies were still warm, and the ice cream melted slowly over top of them. After confirming they were indeed Edie-safe, I proceeded to eat them in mass quantities. I was well into a food coma when the words started spilling out of my mouth. “I paid for the deposits on the venue, the band, the caterer. Will told me he tried to cancel, but they were nonrefundable. I was so caught up in wanting it all to be over, I didn’t fight him. It was just money, and I had enough. He promised he’d pay me half, but...” I lifted my hand and let it fall.
Kristy was lying on my thighs. “It’s been eight months and you haven’t gotten it back yet?”
I shrugged. “You know how I feel about confrontation.”
“That’s messed up, Eds,” Chieka said, pointing her spoon at me.
I scraped the bottom of my bowl, my lips turning down as I realized I had eaten all of my brownie. “Yeah. Could use that money right now.”
Jami held his hand out. “Sam, give me my phone. I need to make a few calls.”
Sam shook his head. “Love you man, but no way. Not until you sober up. I have three sisters. I know how these sessions go down. You get all riled and wrapped up in the drama and you say shit that can’t be unsaid.”
I looked at Kristy. “You picked that.” I reached out and fist-bumped her. “May we all be so lucky.” Murmurs of agreement faded away as we all turned back to the television. We were streaming The Great British Baking Show. Queer Eye had been vetoed on account of feelings. No one wanted to cry tonight.
“You know what really gets me?” I said, pulling everyone’s attention away from Norman’s lavender meringue. “He’s marrying my own mother at MY venue reserved with MY money. I bet he’s even using the same photographer! He should pay me back. I mean, a few grand isn’t going to put a dent in the one hundred seventy-five thousand, but it’s a start.”
Chieka and Kristy both looked at each other, then at me. Oh shit. I hadn’t told them. I groaned and grabbed a throw pillow and put it over my face.
“What are you talking about?” Kristy asked at the same time Jami said, “You mean one fifty?”
Kristy choked on air. “What the hell?!”
I kept my face buried in my pillow and motioned for Jami to tell the story. So he did. Chieka sat up on the couch and shook her head, staring at me. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I’m the boss. It’s my responsibility to figure it out!” I countered.
She poked my shoulder. “No, you idiot. We’re a family. You’re practically the only family I have stateside. We need to fix this.”
“Let’s talk about this when we’re both sober, okay?” I pleaded. I couldn’t handle another emotional topic tonight.
She studied me for a long moment. “Okay, Edie-Bean. When we’re sober.”
Sam groaned and grabbed a phone off the dining room table and tossed it to Jami. “Man, it keeps buzzing and it’s driving me nuts. You’re probably sober enough to deal with it.”
We all turned to look at Jami whose ears were red. “James Joseph, who is texting you?” I asked.
He cringed. “Well, fourteen are from Mom.”
“How many calls?”
“Three.”
“Uggggggh. Can I divorce a parent at twenty-five? Is that a thing?”
Kristy looked terrified and gripped my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin. “You can’t leave me alone with Aunt Cynthia. I thought you loved me.”
I yanked my arm free. “I do love you. I’ll take you with me.”
“Deal,” she said. Sam was pursing his lips, clearly trying not to say anything else. Kristy caught on. “Spill it.”
He shrugged. “Just gonna say, there were more than fourteen texts.”
Jami bit his lip and dipped his head. I clapped loudly. “You met someone!”
My brother laughed. “It’s eerie how you can do that.”
I waved my hand. “I’ve always been able to read you. Who is he? Where did you meet him?”
“The coffee shop. And we had a date last night.”
Sam covered his ears milliseconds before Chieka, Kristy, and I screamed. He really did fit into our family perfectly. I dove off the couch and wrapped my brother in my arms. “I’m proud of you,” I whispered, knowing how special this moment was. “You haven’t dated anyone since…”
“Yeah.” He gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head. “It’s terrifying.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything. It was too sad of a story for tonight. “Let’s finish the brownies and pass out.”
Chapter Ten
Edie’s Tip #31: Universal truth: You’ll never remember you need to change your windshield wipers until it’s raining.
I had gotten ready for bed before I allowed myself to check my phone. It’s not like anyone texted me anyway. Wow, defeatist language much?
When I saw eight missed texts and one missed call, all from Luke, I promptly fumbled my phone and it hit the floor, then my foot kicked it under my bed. Because, of course. The phone started vibrating, alerting me to an incoming call.
I dove under my bed, thankful I had recently vacuumed up the alternate universe of dust bunnies and cobwebs, and checked the screen. Him. I stood up and quickly checked out my reflection in the full-length mirror, making sure that I looked cute enough to answer. Universal truth—a girl had to be cute when answering a call from the guy she liked.
I cleared my throat as I slid my finger across the screen, trying to be casual. “Hey, Luke. Everything okay?” I put my hand on my hip, then immediately took it off. Why didn’t I know what to do with my hands while I was on the phone? What did I do with them usually? Oh God, I couldn’t remember.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all night! Are you okay?”
I blinked. He sounded angry. I pulled the phone away from my face and checked to make sure I was, in fact, connected to Luke. “Uh, I’m fine? Sorry, no phones allowed on Besties’ Night.”
He sighed. “I’m outside your house. I got worried.”
“Why?” I was genuinely flummoxed.
He paused for a beat. “Did you check your mail today?”
Oh, that. “Yeah…hence the impromptu Besties’ Night.”
“Oh. That’s good.” Was I imagining it, or did he sound…left out? “Well, never mind. I’ll just—”
“I’ll be right down. Hang tight!” I slipped on a hoodie over my tank and shorts and shoved my feet into my cat slippers—because I was twelve at heart—and glided down the stairs. When I opened the front door, Luke was sitting on my front step, head hanging.
He straightened, his eyes raking over me as I walked out and sat next to him. “You really okay?” His eyes went down to my feet and he smirked. “Never change, Reeses.”
I bit my lip and looked away from him. “Yeah. A bit shell-shocked, but okay.”
Luke bumped his knee against mine. “I can’t believe your mother would actually want to take your place like that. She’s such a diva; wouldn’t she want her own date?”
I shrugged. “She’s the one who picked out the venue and stuff. I just wrote the check. It probably should’ve been a sign that I didn’t even care where or if we got married. I just wanted it to be done.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Typically, even if you hate wedding planning, you should want to be married.”
“Who knew, right?” I laughed without humor.
We were both looking up at the sky, silent except for the hum of cicadas weaving through the muggy evening. I was on the edge of town at the end of a street. The lights from Main Street were just far enough away to not block out the stars. It was one of my favorite things about this property, and something I didn’t appreciate nearly enough.
He shifted on the step and lifted up his invitation. “I’m thinking we should do an exorcism and bury this in the backyard with holy water and a few crosses. I’m afraid I’ll accidentally summon a demon if I open it.”
I thr
ew my head back and laughed. “I burned mine earlier. It was freeing!”
“Do you have a lighter?” He reached out his hand.
I shook my head. “Luke, you should go to that wedding. It’s your little brother.”
He studied me for a long moment. “He hurt you.”
Those three words knocked the breath out of me. “I hurt him, too,” I admitted softly.
He nodded and tucked the envelope into his coat pocket, pulling something else out and offering it to me. “They’re gluten-free, I checked.”
My eyes went from the orange package of peanut butter cups to his face. It was such a small, simple gesture, but it vibrated all the way to my core. I was so used to being mocked for my dietary restriction except by my closest friends and Jami that I was thrown off. “Thank you,” I whispered, taking them. Years of memories, of sitting on the porch like this eating candy, washed over me.
He smiled, and that damn bat was back in my chest. Focusing on the package, I pulled out the first cup and shoved the whole thing into my mouth. I moaned at the delicious goodness coating my tongue. “Ohmygod,” I mumbled through a mouthful. “Itssogood!”
Luke threw his head back and laughed, and I stared. It took years off his face. His laugh was even sexier than his voice, all gravelly and contagious. I concentrated on swallowing so I wouldn’t choke. That was not the way I wanted to go, although I couldn’t fault it as a last moment.
I pulled the second cup out and held it up to him.
He shook his head. “They’re all yours.”
“Nope. I can’t do another one. I already had brownies and ice cream and lasagna. If I eat anything else, I’ll cry.” My stomach gave a kick in agreement. I was going to have to eat salad the rest of the week to lower my blood sugar.
He raised his eyebrow but leaned forward and parted his lips.
I didn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, as he bit the candy in half. His warm lips brushed against my thumb and forefinger and a jolt went down my arm and straight to my stomach. Well, this was not how we used to eat candy, but I didn’t mind. He chewed, swallowed, and licked his lips. My eyes followed his every movement as he leaned in again and took the rest of the morsel in his mouth.
I bit my lip, stifling a strangled gasp. His tongue brushed my fingers, licking the chocolate off. His eyes met mine as he pulled away, and I was pretty sure I was hallucinating. Because he was looking at me like he wanted to lick more than my fingers.
My nipples hardened at the thought and I was super thankful for my baggy hoodie. His hand went around my wrist and he brought my fingers to his mouth again. He paused for a moment, giving me the chance to reject him, but I definitely didn’t want him to ever stop looking at me like that. He sucked my index finger into his mouth, sweeping his tongue over my skin.
I breathed in sharp through my nose, putting my forehead against the side of his head. “Luke,” I cried softly, so many thoughts in that one word. We can’t do this. You’re just going to leave. It’ll make everything too complicated. You’re trying to take away my home. I would give anything to kiss you. You’ll break my heart. Stay.
And Luke, being Luke, heard every unspoken word. He released my finger and moved so we were forehead to forehead. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, mere centimeters away from my mouth, the scent of peanut butter and chocolate hovering between us. “I should go.”
I nodded, so close my bottom lip touched his top one. “You should.”
A loud cocka-doodle-do rang out, shattering the moment. For once, I was extremely happy about Sergeant Cornflakes’s insomnia. Luke stood quickly and jumped off the steps, stopping with his back toward me and his hands in his pockets.
“I’m sorry. I crossed a line.”
“It’s…” I cleared my throat, flinching at the croak that came out. “It’s okay.”
He stared down at his feet for a moment. “Goodnight, Edie.”
“Night, Luke.” I watched him walk down the path to his truck. It took all my willpower not to run after him and invite him inside. My body throbbed in protest, but my heart beat an extra beat as a thank you. She’d been broken enough this year.
Chapter Eleven
Edie’s Tip #5: Cupholders are to cars like pockets are to women’s clothes. The more, the merrier. Sure, you can stick your stuff in your bra, but then you’ll have a lumpy third boob. #ISupportCupholdersAndPockets
I honestly thought the banging was in my head for a solid two minutes. But then the doorbell started ringing in long bursts, as if someone was leaning into it. I muttered a half-formed curse word and rolled over to nab my phone from the nightstand. I missed and fell out of bed, my legs tangled in sheets.
“Seriously?!” I yelled, untangling myself and grabbing my phone. It was only six thirty. In the morning. Apparently, there was one of those in the morning too.
The phone in my hand started buzzing and I growled as “Mom” flashed across the screen. Choosing to ignore the phone, I stomped out of my room and down the stairs screaming “COMING!” over the din.
I yanked open the door with a death glare. “Someone better be dead!” I yelled into the still morning. The sun was just peeking above the horizon, making my mom’s blonde hair glow red. The humidity was already thick, and I instantly broke out into a sweat.
Mom flung her hand to her chest as if offended. “Edith, is that any way to greet your mother and sister?”
I almost retorted, “Oh you finally realized you had another daughter?” But I didn’t, because Clementine didn’t need any more baggage. Stooping down to the sleepy little girl who had just celebrated her sixth birthday, I opened my arms and she walked right in. The stuffed rabbit she carried with her, Muffy, snuggled into my neck and I smiled. I’d missed this girl. “Missed you, Tina.”
She snuggled into me deeper. I looked up at my mother, who was looking at her phone. “I need you to take her today. I’m knee-deep in wedding stuff and, you know how it is.”
I frowned and pulled back, kissing Tina on the forehead. “Why don’t you take Muffy and go sit on the couch? I’ll be right there, and we’ll make breakfast!”
Once she was safely inside, I stepped out onto the porch and closed the door. “What the hell are you doing on my doorstep at six thirty in the morning?!”
My mom’s eyes grew large. “Watch your tone of voice.”
“Mom, cut the shit. I was up late, I’m exhausted, and I have to work today. I can’t take a day off to babysit. You only get her two overnights a month. Why the hell aren’t you making more of an effort?”
She took a step back, clearly not expecting this reaction. To be fair, I had never been so direct with her. It was like the burning of her wedding invitation had forged my backbone into steel. Or maybe she’d secretly tried to curse me and it had backfired. Either-or.
She sputtered. “Her father had to go out of town and needed to switch days. But I already have a meeting with the caterer and a dress fitting today. You know how much time wedding planning takes.”
I threw my hands up and let them slap my legs. “I can’t believe you’re standing here right now and saying that.”
“Please, Edith. I’ll come get her at three.”
I looked back at my door and thought of the little girl inside. How many times had I sought refuge in this house? How many times had Grandma and Grandpa taken me into their arms at the ass-crack of dawn? They had saved my life, and now I needed to be there for my sister.
“Fine. I’ll watch her.” My mom opened her mouth to say something, but I held up my hand to silence her. “I’m doing this for her, not for you. No child should feel like a burden to their parent.” She tried to talk again, but I shook my head. “Next time, you give me no less than twenty-four-hours notice, or I will call her father and talk to him directly.”
“You have no right—”
“He was my stepdad, Mom. We still talk on holidays. I’m sure he’d love to hear from me more.”
We stared at each other and she broke first, like I k
new she would. I held her freedom in my hands. “She’s picked up by three,” I demanded. I always got a rush of people in the afternoons and these days, I needed all the work I could get.
With a solemn nod, I spun on my slipper and marched back into the house.
After stuffing our faces with chocolate chip pancakes—she didn’t seem to mind that they were gluten-free—we watched the Disney Channel while I braided her hair. When I had finished, Tina ran her hand along her braids and bent her head backward to give me a huge smile. She poked my ribs, which spurred a tickle fight until we were both laughing so hard, we were gasping. We collapsed back onto the couch, our heads together.
“I know I’m supposed to like hanging out with Mom, but I like you better.”
I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Why don’t you like hanging out with Mom?”
She fisted the bottom of her dress. “She makes me wear dresses and I can’t climb any of the giant trees in her yard.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can see why that would be sad.” I clenched my jaw, resolving to be a good, older daughter. “But maybe that’s ‘cause she can’t climb trees with you. Is there anything she likes to do that maybe you would like to do too?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. She’s always trying to dress me up or having Special Mommy Time.”
I frowned. “Special Mommy Time?”
“It’s when she and Will go into their room and lock the door.” She picked at the hem of her dress. “I’m not allowed to knock unless it’s an emergency.”
I cringed. Did six-year-olds know about sex? Should I be giving her a sex talk? And seriously, my mother couldn’t wait until after she went to bed on the rare occasion Tina was there? She went to bed at like eight or something. “Uh…” Smooth, Edie.
“I know what they do. Mom talked to me about it when Will started coming over. I thought he was your boyfriend, but Mommy says he’s her boyfriend.”
I twisted the end of her braid around my finger, trying to figure out what to say. “He used to be my boyfriend, but we didn’t love each other like we should. So we broke up. Mom and Will love each other the right way. That’s why they’re getting married.”
Headlights, Dipsticks, & My Ex's Brother Page 8