The only person wrong here is me.
The kitchen light flips on and I practically dive to the floor, only to be met with Cole’s hysterical laughter.
“Damn, where’d you get those moves, James Bond?”
I glare back in response, all the while pretending to search for something I’ve dropped. “Shut up.”
“Keeping tabs on your boyfriend?” He disappears behind the fridge door and emerges with two bottles of Snapple.
“No…I was just…I couldn’t sleep.”
He joins me on the other side of the kitchen. Standing directly in front of the window, he pulls up the blinds as far as they’ll go and stares across the way.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
Cole uncaps one of the juices and hands it to me. “Chill,” he says. “I do this all the time. I’ve witnessed some pretty interesting things from this spot.”
I stifle a gasp by bringing the bottle to my lips. What the hell is that supposed to mean? God, I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with me. I quickly filter through my memory, trying my best to recall the amount of times I’ve pranced around the kitchen in nothing but a t-shirt or in my bra and panties or—oh, my god—have Ross and I ever had sex in there?
When my gaze meets Cole’s again, I instantly relax. He’s silently laughing and even though I want to punch him, I’m relieved to see he’s joking. At least I hope so.
“I’m kidding. I haven’t seen anything…inappropriate.” He cocks his head to the side. “At least not with you.” Cole jumps up on the counter, his back to the window and his head angled to face me. He swigs his peach juice, his gaze steady. “All I mean is Ross won’t think anything if I’m sitting here. So you can go ahead and do all the spying you want. I won’t tell.”
I fight the urge to look out the window again when a light flickers across the way. I prop my elbows back on the counter and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not spying and he’s not my boyfriend.”
“If you say so.”
For the first time since he walked in here, I notice Cole isn’t wearing a shirt. Again. Jeez. I swear in the last four days I’ve seen more of his bare skin than I have his wardrobe. There was a time I wouldn’t have complained but now…it just feels odd. I’m suddenly very conscious of the fact that I’m not wearing a bra under my pajama shirt either.
“What?” Cole frowns. “Is there something on my face?”
I clear my throat, and stand up straight again, focusing on my Snapple. “No…um…when’s your dad coming back?”
It’s the most random subject change, but it’s better than admitting where my mind really is.
His frown softens and he offers me a friendly smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you’re here.” His gaze shifts back to the kitchen window. “So,” he says. “How are you doing? With everything?”
“I’m okay.”
“Have you considered what we talked about the other day?”
“Cole, please. Not tonight.”
“Yes, tonight. I’m not leaving this another second. No one should. It’s been long enough and I get it. I do. I understand why you’re struggling with this and I even understand why everyone else is treating you like a piece of crystal, but take it from me, that’s not what you need.”
The annoyance with him slowly melts away. I know he’s right, I just don’t want to hear it. But I also know I should. “What do I need then?” I ask quietly.
“To move on. I know it hasn’t been long and I know it’s not fair. But you need to let it all go. You need to get on with your life and stop wasting away. I’m proud of you for going home.” He nudges me. “That couldn’t have been easy. Especially with Grandma Carlson in the next room. And I’m sorry she got to you the way she did. It sucks you felt you had to leave again but, you know what? So what? You didn’t want to be in that house without your sister. That’s not stupid at all. You know what really sucks, Sheila? That you don’t have a permanent place where you feel safe. And you should. Anyone who’s going through what you are should. When Mom died…” Cole rubs his forehead. “I locked myself in my room. Dad had to drag my ass out to make me go to the funeral. And I spent the whole day that day, pretending to take care of Coco.” He laughs. “Probably the most attention we’ve paid to each other our entire lives. But the second we got home, I was back in my room. I stayed out of every other place in the house as much as I could. Wouldn’t even go to school for a solid month.”
“What made you come out?”
“Remember that friend I told you about?”
I nod.
“This is going to sound crazy. But it was Ross.” He glances across the way then looks me in the eye. “Since you don’t want to go home and your time here is running out maybe—I can’t believe I’m saying this—but maybe you should take him up on his offer.”
“You know about that?”
He nods. “You spent an entire eight weeks in that house. Which means you must have felt safe, otherwise…”
“I did.” I allow my gaze to travel back to the window. “I don’t know why, but he makes me—he makes everything seem like it’s okay.” I wrinkle my nose. “Even when he’s pissing me off.”
Cole snickers. “Ross has a way with people.”
“What did he do? To get you out of your room?”
“He came up with this plan to put me in a good mood and to help me deal with it all. He called it The Get Happy Project,” Cole jeers. “In his defense, he was only nine at the time. But to be honest, I think it had more to do with the fact that he was tired of me ditching school. We were like a team back then.”
“How’d he do it?”
Cole opens his mouth, then snaps it shut again. For a moment, he watches me, arms crossed. Then he says, “I guess you could say he just held my hand all the way through and didn’t handle me like a piece of china. He just treated me like Cole and it made me happy.”
“Did it make you forget?”
“Not really. Losing someone you love isn’t something you ever forget. Being around friends and family just made it easier to live with.”
“Not for me.”
“Not right now.”
“I can’t be around them, Cole. I know it’s selfish, but I just can’t do it. You don’t understand. She was the only one. Without her there, I was always miserable. She’d go on trips for school and leave me for the weekend and I hated it. When she was applying to colleges I was terrified she’d go out of state. I didn’t think I could handle that. And now…she’s just gone. So being with family isn’t going to help.”
“It will.” Cole smiles. “You know why I tortured Coco for so long? ‘Cause she looks like Mom and it made me sad. She talks like her, she’s got her eyes, her smile. For a few years it was torture, but then I started to take comfort in it. Of course, I still have to tease her mercilessly. It’s my god-given right.” He empties his juice bottle and places it in the sink.
He pushes off the counter, then leans forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. “The last few months have been chaotic for you and you haven’t dealt with any of it. I just want you to be okay. So does he. And since you don’t have much of a choice, I don’t think taking advantage of what Ross has to offer is all that bad. He isn’t all bad and I know he cares about you, so,” He gestures toward the window. “Go.”
As he walks out of the kitchen, my gaze shifts back to house next door. The window is blacked out again and I let out a little sigh. I could walk back over there right now, and carry on the way I have been for the past few months, or I could actually try to get past this. The problem is I‘m not sure I want to get past anything. I don’t exactly love feeling empty everyday, but a part of me doesn’t believe I deserve to feel any way else. My sister’s gone. She’s not coming back. Why should I ever be happy again?
But the other part of me knows Cole’s right. As much as I’ve tried to avoid it, I can’t anymore. I need to deal with my issues even if they make me feel worse. I’ve always felt comfortable
with Roscoe. He really has made me happy these past few months. But there’s more to it than that. And that’s exactly what makes me hesitate. The one thing Cole and everyone else doesn’t understand—including Roscoe himself—is that what I feel for him is strong enough that there’s a chance I’ll never want to let it go. And if I allow myself to heal, to give into my sister’s wishes, then I might just have to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ross
I’ve spent more time in that building, signing papers, overseeing more stupid shit than I care to admit. I don’t give a damn about the color of the carpeting or the drapery and as far as I’m concerned the size of the stupid tiles in the bathrooms are irrelevant. But Maya is obsessed with every detail. Everything has to be perfect and worst of all she needs my opinion every five seconds.
“Ross!”
I rub my forehead and stretch my legs in front of me. “Yeah. I’m listening.”
“So can you tell me what you think then? Because you’ve been sitting there for the last five minutes with your head in the clouds.”
“This one.” I point to one of the pictures in the middle then push it toward her.
“Are you sure? Brown seems so drab. It’s a club and I want people to walk in and immediately feel at home, but I also want it to be like a home away from home, you know? What about this one? They say red is supposed to induce hunger and get people excited. Which is exactly what we need. So if we use the chandeliers from this one…” She taps her fingernails on the table and bites her lip, letting out a heavy sigh. “And this one.” She picks up a picture of a room done completely in yellow and I pucker my brow.
“Yellow and red, Maya? Seriously?”
“Accents,” she says.
Whatever that means.
“And we’ll go with the brown paint like you said, and…you know what? Instead of yellow, what about gold. Or...no…gold and yellow. That book says gold represents prestige and yellow makes people feel good.”
“Red, gold, yellow and brown?”
“It can work,” she says with a smile. “I promise.”
“Whatever you say. Are we done here?”
“No, Ross. We’re not done. We’ve got a month until the opening and my dad pulled a lot of strings to get us there. Don’t want to piss him off do you?”
Hell no. “Of course not.”
“Really? Because we’ve still got a lot to do and you’re acting like we’ve got all the time in the world. We need to choose furniture, we need to get the word out—which shouldn’t be hard with my connections—and we need to come up with a name. I was thinking since my last name’s Lewis and were in Lewiston something like—”
“Lewis World? No,” I say with mock excitement. “McLewis.”
“Shut up, Ross. And take this seriously for god sakes.”
“I am taking it seriously.”
“Then why have you spent the last hour staring out that stupid window? I don’t think you’re taking any of this to heart at all.”
“Look, I just need a break, okay? We’ve spent the past seven days talking about paint and tiles and curtains. I just need a fucking break, Maya. Jesus.”
She gets up from the table staring me down with a glare. “It’s three o’clock,” she says as she heads over to the counter to grab a bottle of wine. “Which means Cole isn’t home from work yet. So you can rest assured he’s not across the way fucking your little girlfriend. But I can’t make any promises about later.”
I snap my head around.
“I’m kidding. Relax. I’m sure he’ll take it slow. Cole’s a gentleman after all. At least he was with me.” She smirks as she fills up a mug. “You really need to invest in some wine glasses. Speaking of, we need to have the order for the dishes in by tomorrow morning. So before you go getting any ideas about breaks, there’s that.”
“Can’t you pick that shit yourself?”
“This is our club, Ross. Which means we do it—all of it—together. So stop pining after the teenager and let’s get on with it.”
It isn’t until four hours later, that I’ve finally rid myself of Maya and I’m sitting on the back porch inhaling my third cigarette. After all was said and done she chose black and silver and according to her we’re done with the interior design portion. Now all we need to do is plan the party. That, I can get on board with. But luckily I’ve convinced her to take a hike for a few days. Which means now, I can concentrate on other things.
Like what the hell I’m supposed to do with Sheila. I haven’t spoken to her since the other day and I’m not sure I’ve convinced her of anything. Even if I have, I don’t have a clue what I’m going to say to help her heal or whatever. I don’t remember much about what I did for Cole. I was nine. It’s not like I wrote it down.
“Get happy,” I mutter. “Guess that’s the key.” Thing is, I’ve been trying to get her happy for months. Besides the little power outage, I thought she was happy. Until I woke up and she was gone.
Damn it. I’ve got another gig tomorrow night. Which means not just another hundred dollars but another song I have to work the kinks out of. Singing again feels good but doing it by myself is a lot harder than I remember. It’ll be nice when the club opens and I can make some real money.
I start making mental notes about the song but I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is Sheila. And Cole. And this stupid court case. Pete’s not being very optimistic. He says unless I can get Sheila on board, it won’t matter to a judge that I raised Luke—because I only did it for four years and he was already self-sufficient by then. It’s not that I think raising a one year old and a baby is going to be easy. But it’s also not like I’ll be doing it alone forever. Luke’ll be out in a few months. I’m sure we can handle it together.
Besides I can’t guarantee a damn thing when it comes to Sheila. For all I know, I’m nothing to her. Despite the way everything tingles when I think about her, when I recall the time we’ve spent together, that may just be on my end. She’s young. For all I know, I’m just a phase. So maybe we’re better off friends. And I’ll probably be better off, in the long run, if I come to terms with that now.
I hear a squeal and my attention jerks to the laneway. And just like that, my heart starts to race. I see Sheila first, an actual smile on her face. She’s laughing at something. Laughing with someone. And seconds later, my gaze falls on Cole as he follows her, his hand at the small of her back.
I instantly feel sick.
He helps her into the car and, as he leans toward the window, all I can see are his hands pressed against the rooftop. I can’t tell for sure, but I know what it looks like. It looks like I just got screwed.
I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t stop myself as I trudge through the icy snow in their direction. Sheila notices me first and her eyes go so wide, I can’t imagine what I look like. I can only feel it. I grab Cole from behind and yank him back from the car so fast he lets out a little shriek. I come at him with a raised fist and he stumbles back, falling into the snow bank.
“What the hell, Ross?” he holds both hands in front of him as I charge forward.
“Stop!” Sheila’s voice is like an echo as I grab Cole by the collar, wrenching him upwards.
“Just like a sister, huh? Fuck you,” I growl through my teeth.
His hands are still in front of his face and an intense wave of satisfaction courses through me as I catch a glimpse the fear on his face.
“You don’t want to do this, Ross. I’m a police officer, remember? This won’t go over well.”
I clench my fist, doing my best to hold back the anger that’s threatening to bubble over. If I hit him, I won’t stop and he’s right. It might feel good in the moment but it won’t go over well at all. Instead of smashing him, like I want to, I shove him backwards again and he topples onto the ground.
He jumps up and Sheila is quickly by his side.
“Are you insane?” She stares up at me, her blue eyes wide and watery. “What the hell is wrong wit
h you?”
Cole stands, brushing the snow from his jeans. His gaze is locked on me as he speaks. “Could you give us a minute, Sheila?”
Her mouth is open and she glances quickly from him to me. “For what?”
“Just please wait in the car, ” Cole replies. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
After she’s settled back in the passenger’s seat, he rubs his chin, his jaw clenched as he walks further down the driveway.
I don’t know why but I follow like a goddamn puppy, suddenly regretting my actions.
“You’re an idiot,” Cole says, once he’s come to a full stop. “You’re…you haven’t changed a bit.” He laughs but there’s little humor there and when he turns a glare on me, I shrink back a bit.
“You said you were just friends.” I shake my head. “You—I saw you. You were flirting and…you kissed her. I watched you kiss her.”
“Are you…?” Cole sighs, then growls. “You need to chill, Ross. We are friends. And, yes, I did kiss her. Actually, she kissed me. On the cheek! I’m tired of defending myself with you. I don’t even see why I should. Even if I did have something going on with Sheila it’d be none of your damn business. Because she doesn’t belong to you. She’s not even your girlfriend. Just some girl you used to—”
“Don’t,” I snap. “You know that’s not true. We may not be…whatever, but it’s more than that.” It’s definitely more than that. “I care about her and I don’t want to see her get used in your vendetta to stick it to me because of a mistake I made years ago.”
We stand there for several minutes in silence. I kick at the ground, my hands shoved in my pockets and Cole clasps his hands on top of his head, pacing back and forth.
“I can’t believe you came at me like that,” he finally says.
When our eyes meet there’s a hint of a smile there and in the next second we’re both laughing.
“I thought…I don’t know.” I close my eyes. “I don’t know about any of this. I asked her to come back and she hasn’t given me an answer. Then I see her being all giggly and flirty with you. I didn’t know what to think.”
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