by Niecey Roy
I stiffened. “Of course I know what a bankruptcy would do to my credit. Jeez, Cat.”
“Which is why you need to tell them before they see your name in the newspaper for bankruptcy court.” She walked over to the double ovens and pulled the bottom oven door open. “You know Mom will have an anxiety attack.”
I did know. I was pretty sure the anxiety attacks I’d been getting were genetic. “It’s not going to get to that point, Catherine. I have a plan.”
Catherine sighed. “Sometimes it’s okay to ask for help, Lexie.” Her tone was less pushy now, and I could hear the concern in her voice.
“Cat, I know you mean well, but I’m not telling Mom and Dad anything.” I shook my head. “They’d dig into their retirement to bail me out, and this mess is mine. Not theirs.” I turned away from her. “They’ve already wasted enough money on me and a wedding that never happened.”
Catherine’s hand settled onto my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze. “They don’t blame you for that.”
“No,” I said, “but I do.”
To end the conversation, I stepped away from Catherine, bread basket in hand, and walked through the doorway connecting the kitchen and dining room. Mitzy lay under the table, curled up into a ball. I sat down in my chair and picked up my cell phone to read Roxanna’s text: Just us tonight since Gen and Matt are going to the movies. I’ll pick you up from your parents’ and we’ll go rent something to watch.
I typed back: Come early! Eat with us.
If Roxanna were here, all the attention would be on her because she was a talker. If she didn’t show up, I prayed dinner would fly by. I worried Catherine would open her big mouth and spill my financial woes to everyone at the table. She really did mean well. She was the type of person who wanted to fix everything, which she’d inherited from our dad. Most times, I didn’t mind her stepping in and giving me guidance, but this time she was wrong. I would find a way out of this mess myself.
Gen set the pan of scalloped potatoes onto a hot pad in the center of the table, then sat down beside me. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Since when does Catherine listen to either of us?” I asked in frustration, adding a slice of bread to my plate and then offering the basket to my twin. “She drives me crazy sometimes.” I leaned my head back and called out, “Daddy, supper’s ready!”
Mom rushed into the room. “Oh good, you cut the bread. Where is Catherine? Is the meatloaf out of the oven?” The edge to her voice said she worried it might be burnt.
“It’s out, she’s bringing it to the table,” Gen said as the men all shuffled in.
My dad sat at the head of the table. Now that Gen had a plus-one, I sat to his right, across the table from my mom. Beside my mom was Catherine’s empty chair, and next to Catherine’s chair sat her husband, Tony.
“You can make your plates.” My mom waved her hand to gesture at the table covered with food. “We’ll say grace when Catherine sits down.”
I picked up my dad’s plate and dished him a large serving of potatoes while my mom poured him a glass of ice water.
“Thanks, honey,” he said, taking the plate from me.
“Ouch, this is hot.” Catherine hurried to set the large pan of meatloaf down on the hot pads on the center of the table. The top of the loaf was glazed with a tomato sauce, slightly browned, the edges crispy.
“It smells great, Marilyn,” Matt said. He’d tasted the bad meat loaf recipe a few times, so he already appreciated Roxanna’s dad’s recipe.
“Thank you, Matt.” My mom preened under his praise, and I smiled. The quickest way to my mom’s heart was to compliment her cooking.
What I loved most about my parents, my family, was how real we all were. We all had flaws, sure. But somehow, when we were together, it was so easy to look over those imperfections. The four of us women had been driving my dad crazy for years, because the four of us together meant one thing—loud. There was just as much laughter as there was bickering, and a person could feel how close our family was within minutes of walking into my parents’ home.
“Let’s say grace,” my dad said, and we all bowed our heads. His voice recited the words we’d always said at this table before eating. “Bless this food, Lord, and bless our family. We thank you for bringing us together to enjoy this meal.”
We all said, “Amen.”
When it was my turn with the scalloped potatoes, I loaded my plate up as if I hadn’t eaten in weeks. My mom always made too many potatoes, so I wasn’t endangering anyone else’s portion. Catherine’s wide-eyed gaze skittered back and forth between the fork at my mouth, the full plate in front of me, and then to Gen. I crossed my eyes at her so she’d understand I wasn’t as bothered by my lack of interest in calorie counting anymore. Her plate was perfectly balanced with healthy portions.
She’d been my fitness buddy for most of our lives. Catherine had been an all-star volleyball player in high school, then had gone on to play college ball for UNL. Everything in her life was structured, from her executive office at Bradshaw Insurance, to her workout regimen. I didn’t understand how she kept it up when she had twin babies to take care of. She had taken my bailing on our gym dates for the past few weeks more personally than Roxanna had.
Gen was less judgmental about what a plate should look like while eating supper at our parents’. Dinner as a family was a weekly tradition now that we girls were all out of the house and on our own, and though the three of us often dropped in to eat with our parents throughout the week, Saturday night was the one night the entire family got together, so our mom always cooked something special. Gen’s plate was just as full as mine, and she had piled Matt’s plate even higher.
“These potatoes are so good.” I waved my fork before popping it into my mouth. “Mm.”
“Thank you, sweetie. I went back to my old recipe. That new one just wasn’t as creamy. Don’t you think so, dear?” my mom asked my dad, who nodded with mm-hm because his mouth was full of food.
“Gen, did you…” My voice trailed off because Gen and Matt had their heads together, discussing something which had put a smile on my sister’s lips.
Across the table, Catherine and Tony sat close together, each with an infant baby on either side, entertained by the traveling mobiles hanging from the car seat handles. A wave of sadness hit. I wanted twin babies and a devoted husband.
I choked back a sob and stuffed a forkful of potatoes into my mouth. Food was all I had left. Pretty soon I’d have to move into my parents’ house in order to have food. And then I’d have lots of it. Any time I wanted. I could gain twenty pounds and just be pleasantly plump, eating cupcakes and scalloped potatoes every day.
Carbs will make the bankruptcy easier to handle, that’s for sure.
The thought of Jeremy and his family dining at some fancy restaurant, enjoying caviar and a hundred dollar bottle of wine only made me shove the food into my mouth faster, and I chewed now without even tasting. All I had wanted was to love him. Make a family with him. Be happy with him. The spoiled, jerk bastard-face.
“God, I hate men,” I mumbled and kept eating.
Gen cleared her throat from beside me. “So, Lexie has some good news.”
I leveled an uninterested gaze upon her. “Oh? What’s that?”
“Good news? That’s wonderful!” My mom leaned into the table.
More potatoes, that’s what I needed. I scooped more onto my plate and set the large silver spoon back into the pan.
“Yes,” Gen answered for me. “We finished the flyers for her boutique.”
“Oh yeah, forgot about that,” I replied, only realizing how ungrateful I sounded once the words had slipped from my lips. Gen looked a little homicidal, so I gave her a bright smile. “I can’t believe I forgot about that. I’m so excited.” I took a big swig of wine. After I swallowed, I added, “Right.”
“Oh, fun!” My mom clapped her hands together and beamed at us. “I am so happy about this. So happy.” The spark of hope in her gaze was lik
e a douse of ice water in the face. She looked like she might cry. Guess I really do suck at acting.
“Thanks.” I kept my eyes on my plate in case my expression belied my less than enthused attitude.
Gen was still optimistic the flyers would make a difference when what I really needed was a miracle in the form of instant money. Like a lottery jackpot.
“I think it’s a great idea, sweetie.” My dad’s smile beamed at me with so much love, my heart closed in on itself.
They didn’t deserve my depression and sour mood, which was why I’d been skipping dinners every other week. Our family was close. We did everything together, told each other everything, shared every single life experience—I just couldn’t share this with them. I had been a royal brat during my engagement, on a mission to please the perfect and impossible Buchanans. Gen had called me Bridezilla—an understatement. My family didn’t deserve this horrible, depressed version of myself either.
Maybe I could stuff my face with so much food, I’d fall into a food coma and rest in an enchanted sleep. Maybe prince charming would kiss me awake, and everything would be fine. An image of Leo’s smiling face flashed into my head. Just like a twisted fairytale. I snickered and took a bite of bread.
Gen stepped on my foot under the table, and Mitzy barked. Everyone at the table winced, except for me.
“Ouch! Jeez, Gen.” I shifted my foot out of her reach and shoved her shoulder. “What the hell?”
“You are such a shit,” she seethed.
“There’s an Indiana Jones marathon on. Let’s go, boys.” My dad stood with his plate. Matt and Tony both stood, no more explanation needed. Tony picked up a car seat full of baby, then leaned down to kiss Catherine’s forehead before he left.
“Why am I a shit?” I knew full well why I was a shit.
Catherine glared at me. “You need to get a grip.”
I dropped my fork and threw up my hands. “Excuse me for having feelings! Maybe I should just leave and make everyone happy!”
Okay, so I blew up a little. Call it a nervous breakdown, or whatever.
“Girls, girls, just calm down,” my mom soothed. Her gaze was on the bottle of wine next to my plate, so I handed it across the table. “Thanks, dear.”
“No one wants you to leave. Quit being dramatic,” Gen said.
“I’m not being dramatic. My life is over. You have no idea,” I whined, and my heartbeat picked up pace. Another anxiety attack. I shoved my chair back and dropped my head between my knees and concentrated on breathing.
“She’s going to pass out! Get her a cold washcloth,” my mom said, and within a few short moments, she was beside my chair. She rubbed small circles on my back, and I relaxed a little.
“Your life is not over,” Gen said from the other side of me. “You just need to get out of your slump, and do something about it.”
“My slump?” I screeched.
My mom’s rubbing changed from soothing to frantic.
“Yes, slump,” Catherine said, shoving a wet washcloth into my hand. “You should start exercising. You’re ruining your figure for no reason.”
“Her figure is fine,” Gen said.
“When she quits throwing a tantrum, she’s going to regret all the junk she’s been eating,” Catherine insisted.
“I think Lexie looks healthy,” my mom said.
“You should have broken up with Jeremy after the engagement party,” Catherine said.
“Sheesh, Cat, you don’t need to be a jerk about it,” Gen lectured, coming to my rescue, as twins do. And then topped it off with, “She already knows she made a mistake.”
“I was in love! How the hell is this my fault?” And then I couldn’t breathe as I sucked in air, and my body temperature rose ten degrees. Maybe twenty degrees—yeah, twenty. This wasn’t a nervous breakdown, this was Hell. I was in Hell. Deborah Buchanan had sent me straight to Hell.
“I’m in Hell,” I wheezed, just in case they hadn’t gotten the freaking memo.
“Is she having an anxiety attack?” Catherine asked and hauled me from my seat. “I think I heard she should put her arms above her head or something?”
My mom grabbed the washcloth and swabbed my face with it. I squeezed my eyelids together and pulled at my arms, but Catherine was freakishly strong. She wouldn’t let go and yanked my arms over my head.
“You’re being too hard on her, Cat!” Gen accused. “She’s going to have a heart attack.”
“Lex, I’m sorry, shit,” Catherine said, her hands like vices around my wrists. “It’s the babies, they won’t sleep at night. I swear my head is fuzzy all the time. I’m exhausted. I didn’t mean to make it sound like your fault. About Jeremy, I mean. He’s a bastard.”
Yes, darkness, take hold…
“Oh my God,” Roxanna breathed from somewhere nearby. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’ll be fine,” said a deep, soothing voice, and then strong arms wrapped around me. He held me against his chest, and my skin burned even hotter. I clung to Leo and didn’t plan on letting go. Maybe I’d be okay now.
My prince, a tiny voice in my head whispered on a sigh.
And then freezing cold wind shocked my skin, and my eyelids shot open. A door slammed behind us, and I sucked in a breath of icicles. Leo had carried me outside. In ten degree weather. Without my jacket. I burrowed deeper into his chest, but it wasn’t possible. Instead of taking me back inside where I’d be warm, he squatted down with me in his arms, grabbed a handful of snow, and pressed it to my flushed cheeks. The contact sent a spasm through my body.
“What the hell, Leo!” I cried out, my teeth chattering.
“You were going to pass out.” The concern in his gaze made me relax back into his arms.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my body wracked by shivers.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and I nodded. But I didn’t feel okay. Nothing was okay. Everything was out of control. “Lexie…”
My eyes brimmed with tears, but the cold made them thick and uncomfortable. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before hugging me against him. Only Leo could lug around a hundred and fifteen pound woman like it was no big deal, moving from a squat to stand without the aid of something to balance against.
My voice choked, and I whispered against his chest, “Did you come to eat meatloaf?” I sounded delirious, which worried me a little.
“Let’s get you inside.” His words vibrated inside his chest and against my cheek.
My dad was at the patio door to let us in. His face was red with worry. “Is she okay? Should we call an ambulance?”
Leo shook his head and walked me into the living room, my family swarming in a pack behind us. “No, she’s fine. It was a panic attack.”
Leo laid me down on the couch, and my mom rushed to cover me with a quilt.
“Thank you, Leo,” she said. “I'm so glad you got here when you did.”
“Rox wanted to come a little early to visit before picking up Lexie. I apologize, ma’am.”
“No need to apologize, son,” my dad boomed. “Glad you got here when you did.”
Gen knelt down beside the couch near my head. “I’ll take you home, okay?”
“Sorry,” I whispered. “That was really weird, huh?”
She kissed my temple and brushed a strand of hair off my cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
She was wrong. There was plenty to be sorry for, and it could be summed up in two words—the Buchanans. Why were they still haunting my every step? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did.
The television was tuned to the country music network. I barely registered the images as I stared at the screen from a corner of the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. The knock on the door startled me. Another knock, and I stayed right where I was.
“Lexie, open the door.”
Leo’s voice startled and soothed me at the same time. I jumped from the couch and hurried to the door. I smoothed my hair, and then opened the door.
He stood with his hands stuffed into his pockets looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself. I cocked my head to the side in a questioning tilt. He stepped inside and swept me up into his arms and kicked the door shut behind us. I was too startled to speak an objection, and doubted I would have anyway. Being in his arms felt too good.
He carried me to the couch and sat down with me in his arms. He rested his forehead against mine. “Lexie, I’m not going anywhere.”
It wasn’t until he said the words it hit me how much I’d been wanting to hear them. Except, how could I believe him? Alarms went off in my head. He’d broken my heart before. And the why of it wouldn’t stop circling through my brain. Even though I’d been so adamant about keeping my emotions in check, I still wanted to know why he hadn’t wanted me before. What was so different now? Even if it was just sex between us, why me? Leo could have any woman he wanted, and he was here. With me. Again.
The familiarity of him, the feeling of safety, didn’t change the fact letting him in could ruin me. I exhaled a tired breath. “Leo…”
He raised his head so he could look down into my eyes, and his gaze quieted me. “Quit fighting it, Lexie,” he whispered against my lips.
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Just let me in.” His lips were hot and seeking against mine. “Close your eyes, Princess. I’m going to make you feel better.”
He kissed every inch of me, and I did exactly as he told me to—I stopped fighting it. Stopped questioning it. I just let myself feel. Afterward, I lay in his arms in my bed, my heart beating in time to his. A very concerned voice in my head cautioned, You can’t let him in.
I worried it was too late.
Chapter Eighteen
“I’ve invited you all here today because Lexie is a hot mess.” Roxanna quit pacing her home office to stare at each of us in turn.
I sat in a black upholstered chair from Roxanna’s dining room set, with Gen on one side of me and Richard on the other. He sat at attention with a legal pad in his lap, diligently taking notes as Roxanna had instructed. His presence was a little bit of a conundrum, but I supposed Roxanna had her reasons for inviting him, however questionable they might be. We faced the back wall where a large board of some type sat on a chrome metal stand, covered with a large black sheet.