“I was going to use that meat. I have to make a dish for a potluck at work tomorrow.”
Hopelessness settled somewhere behind my eyes. I. Will. Not. Cry. “I was just trying to do something nice.”
“You know what would be nice?” She went to the island and pressed her palms into the edge of the counter. “It would be nice if you’d think about someone other than yourself for once in your selfish life.”
The bathroom door closed, and Dad walked into the kitchen dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. Looking between us, he asked, “What’s going on?”
Mom jabbed her finger at me. “Skye used the meat I was going to use for the potluck tomorrow.”
Dad rubbed his hand over his face. “Can’t you make something else?”
She groaned. “That’s not the point. This selfish little brat thinks she runs the place, that she can use whatever she wants without any consequences.”
I blinked back angry tears. “It’s not like I could just call you up and ask you. You never talk to me anymore.”
“And why do you think that is?” Mom asked.
“Because I did something to help my sister, your daughter—”
“Stop!” Dad yelled.
But I wasn’t ready to stop. “No,” I said, clenching my fists and staring between the two of them. “My sister, your daughter, was in my room, crying because she didn’t want to ruin her husband’s life with a baby and knowing you two couldn’t help her. When you two got pregnant with Liz, you didn’t stick around Nebraska. You moved here to take care of us. Even if you didn’t do a great job, you at least tried. That’s what I was doing. Trying to do what was right. And if you hate me forever, that’s fine. I helped my sister, her husband, my niece or nephew. So if you want me to leave, just say it.” My voice shook, and tears poured down my face. “Tell me to leave right now. I’ll figure it out. I’ll sleep in my car if I have to, but I can’t take one more second of this absolute crap!”
My chest heaved as I looked between the two of them.
Mom stared at the island, and Dad stood with his arms folded across his chest, his jaw twitching.
“You need to go,” he said, and my heart dropped. “Just until ten or eleven,” he added. “Your mother and I need to talk.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I walked past Mom and out the door. I slammed it behind me, not even caring if they thought it was disrespectful. What were they going to do? Kick me out? At this point, I’d welcome it.
As I got into my car and took off, I thought about leaving, how I would find the money to support myself. I had a job now, but it was just for the summer. Maybe I could work at the restaurant. Rent out someone’s bedroom. It would be tight, but I could make it. Liz had.
But now, I didn’t know where to go.
I stopped at what I now thought of as our stoplight. The spot where Andrew and I had always paused for a kiss. The light turned green, but I waited there. No one was behind me. Honestly, it was kind of dumb for a town this size to have a traffic light anyway.
The light cycled through yellow and red and back to green again before headlights approached behind me.
I took off down the road and drove around town. I passed by Kylie’s house first—the place that used to be my second home. And then Sheldon’s—the guy who used to be my best guy friend. At least seven cars were parked out front. They must have been having a party or something like that. And then I drove by Kellum’s place, past the cute front yard where flowers sprouted around the trees and along the sidewalk. A light shined from the living room. I wondered how different my life would be now if I’d gone with him to prom. Would we be boyfriend and girlfriend? Would I be in the living room with him now, watching movies, eating supper with his family?
Part of me wanted to take my car all the way out to Damon’s house to check on him too. Had he learned how to use a toilet brush yet? Had Shelby slept over? What did she think of all the mismatched furniture and the trash can full of empty beers? Did she even mind because it was just another way she’d bested me?
Instead, I took a left and drove out to the country, to the spot where Andrew and I had parked twice before. Once, he’d told me he wanted to be my boyfriend. Once, he’d told me he wanted to see where things went. Now, I was alone.
I leaned my seat all the way back, cracked the windows so the night air could play through the car, and I cried myself to sleep.
My phone rang around midnight. It was Dad, calling to tell me I could come back home.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Mom and Dad were in their room when I got back. I didn’t know what they’d talked about—all I knew was that I hadn’t been asked to find somewhere else to live. I wasn’t sure whether I was happy about that or not.
The next morning, I got up early for a run and found Mom and Dad in the kitchen, Mom browning meat over the stove, Dad chopping vegetables at the island.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Dad looked up from the cutting board. “Getting ready for the cook-off, squirt. When you get back from your run, wash up so you can help out.”
“Oh.” I stared between them. “Okay.”
What was going on? They were back to cooking chili? What had they discussed last night while I was gone? If my parents had taught me anything, it was that speaking up didn’t solve my problems. When I’d talked back to them before, things had gotten worse, and they worked harder to show me they were the parents and I was a powerless kid.
They turned back to the stove, cooking, leaving me to deal with my confusion on my own.
I stepped outside, and the air felt like the cool side of the pillow. It brushed against my cheeks, my lips. At the top of the steps, I stretched out my quads and hamstrings, then started at a brisk walk down the driveway and onto the road. When my legs felt warm, I started at a jog.
Every day, my knee hurt, but every day I could feel it getting stronger. Feeling more like a part of me. I ran until my phone said I’d been at it for twenty minutes, then walked another ten minutes for a cooldown.
When I stepped back into the house, the smell of chili seasonings hit me.
Mom looked up from the pot she stirred. “How was your run?”
The back of my throat got tight. That was the first time she’d talked to me kindly since I dropped Liz off. “Good. Actually, Dr. Pike cleared me to play volleyball.”
She dropped her spoon on the floor and red juices splattered our ankles.
I bent to pick it up and put it in the sink.
“You’re cleared?” she asked.
Chancing a smile, I nodded.
She hugged me. It was short and awkward, but she hugged me. “That’s great news.”
Dad clapped my shoulder. “Good job, kiddo. Now, if you don’t want your parents to cream you at a chili cook-off, you better shower up and get back in here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Dad shrugged. “Well, you and Liz did great with your recipe last time. Don’t you want to win some money for those car payments?”
Dumbfounded, I nodded. “Well…yeah. Yes.”
I hurried to the bathroom and showered, excited for the first time in a while. And it wasn’t just about the cook-off or Mom and Dad’s moods—it was also about who I might see there. Back in my room, I dug through my dresser until I found the shirt with The Chili Beans written across the chest in black Sharpie. I guessed today, there was just one chili bean in the group.
Mom and Dad had set aside some browned meat for me, but I was on my own for the rest. That was fine, though, because the smell had always set off Liz’s morning sickness so early in the day.
We finished cooking, loaded our slow cookers into Mom’s car, and took off down the road. I wanted to text Andrew, but I had to text Liz first.
Me: Hey Liz. I hope you’re doing well. I saw Dorian’s post. I’m glad you told him. Mom and Dad were so sad about you being gone, but I think they might be coming to terms with it. We’re going to a chili cook-off at Bl
ackburn. The backseat feels empty without you. And I’m even wearing the shirt you made. I hope California’s treating you well. I miss you.
I didn’t expect a text back. Liz had her own things going on. And I imagined with Dorian’s tour schedule, they probably slept most of the day and were up at night. But she was the only sister I had. I wanted her to know I loved her.
My phone dinged almost immediately, though.
Liz: I love you too. Things will get better soon. I promise.
It was an empty promise, I knew, but I still smiled at the message. And then I had to text someone else.
Me: Are you going to the cook-off at Blackburn?
Andrew: Of course. It’s a qualifying meet.
Me: What’s that mean?
Andrew: If you want to go to the state cook-off next week, you have to place here. It’s common knowledge in the chili world.
Me: First off, I’m embarrassed there’s even such a thing as a “chili world” and mortified that I’m a part of it.
Me: Second. I’ll see you at state. :)
Andrew: Are you coming today? I figured your parents were done with it?
Me: On the way there as we speak.
He sent a gritted teeth emoji.
Andrew: That’s awesome! Ready to be crushed like garlic?
Me: Ready to be minced like mincemeat?
Andrew: I think we’re getting our phrases mixed up. Either way. Ready to eat my dust?
Me: Yeah, because that’s what your chili tastes like. *mic drop*
Andrew: Oooooo it’s so on.
I sent him an emoji with a sunglasses face.
Me: Bring it.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Dad paid our fees to compete, then shook my hand. “May the best chili win.” Then he whispered, “Good luck.”
“Good luck,” I said to him and Mom.
We went to our separate stations, and as I got my chili ready and score cards set up, I kept an eye out for Andrew. I wanted to see him like I wanted to win this prize money today. Finally, I spotted him a few rows of folding tables away.
I made sure everything on my table was ready, then walked to where he stood with his parents. Once they saw me, they made up some excuse about having to be somewhere else—giving us privacy.
I lifted my chin at his slow cooker. “You call that chili? Looks like mud.”
“Is that so?” He kept his poker face on. “Well, your chili looks like the poo it will be at the end of the day.”
Okay, that got me. I snorted and laughed, and he broke his straight face, laughing with me.
“Good one,” I said.
He smiled. “I’ve been working on it all morning.”
“I can tell. At least it wasn’t another pun.”
“Oh, I have some more of those too.”
“Save it,” I said. “Like you’re going to have to save all of your leftover chili because everyone’s going to eat mine.” I put my hand over my mouth. “Ooooh. Need some ice for that burn?”
“Nah,” Andrew said, grinning evilly. “I’ll just put my hand over your heart.”
“Ouch.” I acted wounded. “My heart’s just cold because chili’s in my veins.” I sniggered. “Get it? Chili? Chilly?”
Andrew kept his face even, but I slapped my knee and made a show of wiping invisible tears of laughter from my face. “Man, I’m good.”
He snorted. “We’ll let the judges see.” His shoulder brushed mine. “Catch you later, beautiful.”
My stomach launched itself into a pool of contentment, my veins and arteries doing the backstroke like a blissed-out grandma. He’d called me beautiful.
And so commenced three very slow hours. I ended up retreating to a table in the back corner and playing around in my journal—doodling, attempting some poetry, and eventually reading over pages from the last year. It was hard to believe some of the writing came from me.
Finally, someone came over the loudspeaker system to announce the winners. They started by talking about the Texas Chili Organization, the largest governing body of chili cook-offs in the United States. I barely kept back an eyeroll at that. Seriously? People didn’t need to take chili so seriously.
Then they talked about the state competition being held the next weekend in Austin. The top three placers from each of the five qualifying competitions would be competing in Austin for a chance at insane prizes and a ten-thousand-dollar check. That competitive spark in the pit of my stomach had me thinking of all the ways I’d tweak our recipe if I made it that far. I hoped I would. Ten thousand dollars would be more than enough to replace everything I’d lost. And for a second, I let myself dream, even though the odds were unlikely.
“We have two honorable mention placings we’ll start out with.” The announcer read off two teams that I didn’t recognize. Under the table, I crossed my fingers in my lap.
“In third place, Hoffner Chili Group!”
Mom and Dad walked through the crowd toward the makeshift stage. Dad held the trophy while Mom took the envelope with the cash prize. I clapped enthusiastically.
“In second place, Brindon Chili Company!”
Andrew and his parents took the stage, and my heart hung in this weird balance between hopeful and dejected.
“And, in first place, The Chili Beans!”
My mouth fell open. I was bringing a chili recipe to state? This was insane! I tucked my journal in my purse, stumbled to my feet, and walked toward the stage. But I wasn’t the only one walking in that direction.
At the stairs, I was met by my sister and none other than my brother-in-law, Dorian Gray, wearing a Sharpied shirt that said “The Chili Beans.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
My eyes flew open wide, and I stared between the two of them, gawking.
Mom snapped out of her trance first. “What are you doing here?” She launched off the stage and wrapped Liz in a hug.
Liz sucked in a breath. “Mom. You’re gonna smoosh me.”
Mom brushed back Liz’s hair. “Don’t you ever run off again. If you need help, you let us know. We’ll figure it out.” Mom held Liz at arm’s length and looked over at Dorian. “Is this him?”
The announcer coughed, and at that moment, we all realized where we were. Well, at least, I did. I took Liz’s hand and walked onto the stage. Between the two of us, we took the prizes.
The announcer pointed at all of us. “The three teams representing Central Texas, folks!” She stared down her nose at our hand-decorated shirts and said, like she would rather be saying anything else, “Would our first-place team care to make a speech?”
Dorian lifted his hand, looking the perfect amount of shy and happy and totally, broodingly hot. Was it weird to think that way about my sister’s husband?
The announcer nodded and handed him the mic, and a murmur went through the crowd. Did they know him?
“Thanks, everybody,” Dorian said with all the charm that came with performing. “I’m so happy to be back in my hometown with my wife and her family.”
Dorian was from Blackburn?
“I just wanted to make a quick announcement about a concert my band is putting on tonight. It’ll be right here at nine p.m., and all proceeds are going to help this young lady right here make her way to college.” He pointed at me. “She’s the kind of gal who gives everything for family, so help us give back to her!”
My mouth fell open. Scholarship concert? For me?
The crowd went wild, and Dorian handed the mic back.
“Well, that’s a wrap,” the announcer said, even though no one was listening.
Andrew was the first to move. He gave me a quick hug and whispered, “Call me later.”
Dumbstruck, I nodded.
My family stood on stage, the most awkward group of five I’d ever seen.
Dad’s jaw worked. “So. You’re the father?”
For all the charisma Dorian had exuded moments ago, he looked purely nervous now. “Yes, sir. That’s me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed wit
h a swallow.
Dad looked between him and Liz. “You two don’t go running off. Help us clean up. And then we’ll talk.”
Mom followed him off the stage, and I turned to look at Liz. The dark circles under her eyes were fainter now, and her stomach pulled at her shirt. Just enough that people might be wondering if she was pregnant.
I wrapped her in my arms. “Liz, I missed you.”
She hugged me tight. “I know. So much has happened. But first, I want you to meet someone.” She pulled back but kept a hold of my hand. “Skye, this is my husband, Dorian.”
His almond-brown eyes fell on me, and he smiled, showing shining white teeth. “It’s so nice to meet you. And I’m sorry it’s just happening now.” He and Liz shared a look. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”
My cheeks heated, and I looked down. I hadn’t been expecting to hear from either of them again. “She’s my sister. And her little one deserves the best.”
Dorian put his arm around Liz. “We’re going to be able to give that to our child now, thanks to you.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “You’re not quitting your tour, are you? I thought you guys were supposed to be in California now.”
Liz nodded. “We were supposed to be, but our next stop got cancelled, so we drove out here. We have to leave in a couple days to make it back in time for the next show.”
Someone coughed behind me. “Excuse me.” The announcer was trying to pack up the sound system.
“Sorry.”
Liz tugged my hand. “Here, let’s go get your table cleaned up.” On the way, she handed me the prize envelope. “You should keep this.”
I tried to give it back, but she shoved it in my purse and zipped it shut.
We hurried to clear the table, seal up the slow cooker, and get out of there. Mom and Dad were waiting for us by the doors. Mom had the crock pot propped on her hip. She spread her arm out and put it around Liz’s shoulders.
Dad led the way outside and froze.
We must have been looking at the same thing. A giant RV covered with edgy, spray-painted graffiti, Dorian’s name front and center.
Loving Skye: Book Three (The Texas Star Series 3) Page 13