“Yeah, he’s good people,” I heard myself saying. “He’s just not the right person for me.”
Leon nodded and the conversation moved on to other topics. Keats’ new job in the big city, Tennyson’s new dog, Barrett’s latest weird date, Byron’s coursework and social life, and my friends.
Betty came to see me that night when I was in bed watching a movie on my laptop and thinking about going to sleep soon. I paused the movie and she sat on the edge of the bed and patted my feet. “There are no secrets between your Uncle Leon and myself. I know what Lawrence did, and I’m worried about you, Remy.”
I sat up and hugged her. “I’m fine, Aunt Betty.”
“Oh, I know, sweetheart. It’s just this inability to trust Lawrence. Do you think it’s because of your daddy?”
Her words re-opened the hurt I’d been trying to ignore. “I think anyone would have difficulty trusting a guy who failed to admit he was the son of the man who tried to kill her.”
“You may not realize it, Remy, but you can be intimidating.”
I snorted. Not realize it? I made a concerted effort to be intimidating.
She ignored my snort. “If he cared about you as much as I believe he does, he was probably scared to tell you the truth.”
“If he was scared, he’s not the right guy for me.”
Betty nodded and the knowing look in her eye annoyed me just a little. “And you’re never afraid of anything are you, Remy? No one is going to live up to your high standards at that rate and life is very long lived alone.”
“How did you do it?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. “How did you wait for Leon so long?”
She smiled and pulled her legs up under her. “I didn’t wait for him, really. I dated other people and I hoped that someday I’d see him again. I didn’t like anyone as much as I liked him and, knowing he was out there and there was a chance we’d be together again, I couldn’t settle for anyone less than him.” She smiled to herself, happy and contented. “Of course we kept in touch. We talked about once a week, when he could get a call in without you noticing. He didn’t want my name to trigger a memory for you.” She sighed. “Talking to him helped. I feel like I know him better now than I did before he left.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I said. “I’m sorry you had to be apart because of me.”
She ran a hand down my cheek. “Being with Leon wouldn’t mean as much to me if I had to see you still living in your daddy’s world or worse. Seeing you here healthy and happy and with the world at your feet is worth every sacrifice Leon and I had to make.”
I was so lucky to have Leon and Betty in my life, so lucky to have two strong, well-adjusted people who supported me and cheered for me. “And it won’t hurt you if I’m friends with Worthy?” I asked, beginning to think I might like to be a whole lot more than friends with Worthy, if he’d ever forgive me. He’d stood by me through so much, and I wasn’t going to turn my back on that. Well, not again, anyway.
“I didn’t know Worthy’s father very well, but Leon tells me he was a decent man who made some bad choices. If I can forgive my brother, I guess I can forgive him. Worthy is not to be held responsible for his father’s choices, any more than Leon and I would hold you responsible for your daddy’s choices.”
I sucked in a breath, realizing again how lucky I was, how different my life might have been if Leon had hated me for what my father had done. Arle might have been easily led, but it had been my father who’d led him into drugs and crime. In a roundabout way, it was my father’s fault that Leon had to pull the trigger and put a bullet in his best friend. I couldn’t even imagine the pain and guilt Leon had to live with because of my father and, yet, Leon was still here, looking out for Eunice’s daughter and marrying Eunice’s sister. Leon was either very strong or very stupid, and I knew he wasn’t stupid. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t regret that decision.”
“You’ve already done more than enough to ensure that,” she said. “Now, go to sleep. I’m going to spend some alone time with my new husband.”
I couldn’t help my smile, even as I blanked my mind of any pictures that might want to jump in there of my uncle and aunt in a compromising position. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” I said, rolling over and tucking in.
Betty huffed. “I didn’t mean—”
I laughed. “Good night, Aunt Betty. Congratulations.”
She kissed my cheek and left. I sighed and sank into the mattress, so glad to be the only girl in the family. While my cousins were all camped out in the den, trying to sleep through each other’s snores, I got the only guest room. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of Worthy, and wished I wasn’t quite so alone.
***
I woke up the next morning, shivering. The house was small, so the woodstove in the den had kept the house pretty warm for most of the night. The guys must have let the fire go out while they slept, and the cold had sunk in. I blew a breath and couldn’t see it, but my nose was cold enough to make me sure I didn’t want to leave my bed.
“Help,” I yelled. Then I waited. “Help me!” I yelled again. In a house full of overprotective men, I figured at least one of them would come running in, but no one did. Then I heard the faint sound of voices from the direction of the den. “Help, help, help,” I yelled louder.
I heard laughter. Damn it, my plan wasn’t working. “Help me or I’m going to kick someone’s ass,” I shouted.
Nothing. Ugh, seriously? “Fine,” I shouted. “Help me or I’m not making pancakes this morning.” I couldn’t cook much, but I could make some damn fine pancakes.
“There’s no power,” one of the guys shouted back.
Shit damn, I’d forgotten about that. I pulled out my final stop. I didn’t like to use it often, but desperate times and all that. I pretended to cry. I actually had to wail to make the sound carry all the way to the den, but I hoped it would still work. I’d gotten pretty good at the fake cry over the years. I’d never cry for real, but fake crying I could do.
My Aunt Betty poked her head in the door. “Everything okay, honey,” she asked, but she was smiling. Clearly the wailing was less effective than my fake crying. Betty was dressed in jeans and enough sweaters to look like she was swollen. She had on a hat and gloves, too.
“I’m cold,” I said. “I want one of those big lugs to carry me to the den wrapped up in my blankets, so I can sit next to the wood stove.” They used to do it for me when I was little, and I was feeling nostalgic, and colder than I’d been in a really long time. At Leon’s house we had a back-up generator.
“I’ll go ask them,” Betty said.
“Tell them I’ll…Tell them they’d better or I’ll post embarrassing pictures of them on Instagram.”
Betty laughed. “Threats are usually more effective than favors with this lot, aren’t they?”
“Yep.”
Keats showed up at my door a few minutes later. He was in jeans and a sweatshirt like it wasn’t cold. “When you’d become such a wimp, Remington?”
He could call me any names he wanted as long as he didn’t make me step out into this cold. “I went to bed in a t-shirt, Keats. I’ll freeze to death if I get out of this bed.” I batted my eyelashes and tried to look pathetic.
Keats’ eyes widened. “You’re naked under there?” He shook his head. “I’m not getting anywhere near you.” He spun and left in a hurry, but his smile let me know he was enjoying my pain way too much.
“Come on,” I yelled after him. “Please…” I drew the word out like a little kid, making it ten, fifteen, twenty syllables.
I heard feet in the hallway and I squirmed with relief. Only it wasn’t Keats, easy, pushover Keats back to carry me to warmth, it was Barrett, with a malicious grin.
“Help,” I yelled. “Byron! Keats! Barrett is going to kill me!” Nothing. Barrett rubbed his hands together and snickered. “I’m going to kick you all in the testicles if you don’t help me.” More nothing. Useless
. Men were completely useless.
“Keats says you’re naked under there,” Barrett said, practically bouncing with glee.
“Keats doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” But I was a terrible liar and Barrett knew it.
He tiptoed into the room, his movements exaggerated, making a big show of how he was going to get back at me. “Poor, poor Remington, trapped under the blankets. At the mercy of her dear, sweet cousin Barrett.”
“I’m sorry, Barrett,” I said, trying to look repentant. “I didn’t mean it.”
He shook his head and moved to my bag, unzipping it with a flourish. “I’m not falling for the poor, little girl act again. Not this time.”
I couldn’t help smiling to myself at the memory of the last time he’d fallen for my poor, little girl act. Unfortunately, he caught my smile and he returned to searching my bag with renewed vigor.
The situation was getting desperate. I was going to have to woman up. I pushed the covers back and leapt from the bed. I landed in the spot where Barrett had been just as he disappeared out the door with what appeared to be every electrical device I owned. I pulled on sweat pants, two sweatshirts, and three pairs of socks and went for help.
I ran right past my cousins in the den to find Leon in the kitchen looking for a pan he could use to cook bacon on the wood stove. Betty was shaking her head at every pan Leon held up.
“Uncle Leon,” I said, sniffling a bit for effect. “Barrett took my laptop and my phone and I have school work I need to do.”
Leon hardly paused. “You all are adults now. I’m pretty sure you can work it out amongst yourselves.”
I deflated just a bit, but I wasn’t a quitter. “But he’s bigger than me,” I said, putting a bit of a whimper into my voice.
Leon held up another pan and raised an eyebrow at me.
I could see I was getting no help from that quarter, so I huffed into the living room and collapsed on the couch next to Byron. I glared at Barrett and he shifted a bit, but didn’t look my way. Coward.
Now warm, my thoughts couldn’t be distracted for too long from Worthy. I tried planning my revenge on Barrett, but all I could think about was how big an apology I owed Worthy.
I punched Byron on the knee. “Is Worthy back in town?” I asked. I knew Worthy’s mom and brothers still lived in Roanoke, and I figured he’d be visiting them for the holiday at some point.
“What do I look like his keeper?” Byron asked. “You want to know where he is, you can call him.”
Barrett snickered, but looked away when I turned my glare on him.
“As you know, my phone was stolen by your Neanderthal brother, so maybe you could give him a ring and find out.”
“So you can hurt him some more?” he asked, his righteous indignation so thick I almost gagged on it.
“No, so I can beg his forgiveness,” I said. The room went still as all of my cousins froze and stared at me with wide eyes. Apologies were not something they heard from me often…or ever. “I’m serious.”
Byron nodded. “I’ll call him, but not until a decent hour.”
I looked at the clock on the mantle. “It’s after ten. Has he become a late sleeper since we were dating?”
Byron suddenly found his hands fascinating.
“By? What is it?”
He shook his head. “He had plans last night. He stayed at school to take some girl out. If it went well, I don’t—”
“I got it.” I tried not to openly wince, but judging by the way my cousins were looking at me with pity in their eyes, I failed. The thought of Worthy with some other girl hurt. It hurt way more than I’d expected.
“We need to kick someone’s ass?” Tennyson asked in that quiet voice of his that could be scarier than all the others yelling.
“No,” I said. “If anyone deserves an ass-kicking it’s me.”
“Wow,” Barrett said, with a golf clap. “I almost feel sorry for you, Remington.”
“Sorry enough to give me my shit back?”
He grinned. “Nope. You’re going to have to earn it back.”
“And how am I supposed to do that, Barrett?”
He rubbed his hands together like an evil dictator. “You’ll be my slave for the day.”
I groaned and dropped my head back on the couch. “Forget it, I’ll just buy new shit.”
My cousins and I spent the day playing in the snow like we were little kids. We built a snow man and shoveled the driveway. We had a snowball fight and made snow angels. We didn’t know Roanoke, but when we saw one of the neighbor kids coming home with a sled, we asked him where he’d been. Byron and Barrett went to the store and came back with sleds for all of us. We spent the afternoon sledding and laughing like lunatics. Through it all, I was Barrett’s bitch, carrying his sled, being on his team for the snowball fight, doing his share of the shoveling.
We stumbled back to Betty’s house as the sun was setting. I was cold and starving and laughing so hard my sides and my cheeks ached. Byron pushed me into a snowdrift and ran inside, my cousins on his heels. I pulled myself out of the snow, but I was covered in it. It was cold against my skin, up my pants leg and inside my shoe, I’d even gotten some up my coat and under my shirt. I took my hat off and shook the snow off, sure I looked like a cross between a wet dog and the abominable snowman. I’d have to change for the third time that day, but at least I’d get a warm shower, judging by the lights shining from inside Betty’s house. I started toward the light and the promise of the warmth.
“Remy?”
I turned and saw Worthy standing at the end of the driveway, dry and warm in his thick Carhartt jacket and a knit cap that covered his hair and made him look older somehow. “Worthy?” I said. “What are you—”
“There he is,” Byron bellowed, bounding onto the porch. “Come on in, Worthy.”
“Byron invited me,” Worthy said.
“And you thought that was a good idea?” But Worthy didn’t answer, didn’t even look at me, just strode to the porch and gave Byron a one-armed hug. Apparently, I was the only one who found this weird and, for the first time with my family, I felt like the odd one out.
Worthy had come over to loan Byron a video game. At least that’s what Byron told us all over dinner. To which Worthy was invited. An invitation he accepted. He barely looked at me, and I couldn’t stop looking at him, or wondering about the girl he’d gone out with the night before. I knew I should find an opportunity to apologize, that he still deserved an apology, even if he was dating someone else, but Worthy seemed to be constantly surrounded by my family. They all loved him, and Leon and Betty wanted to know all about his mother and his brothers. It was like they’d been struck with amnesia and forgotten that he’d used me and Byron, that Leon had killed Worthy’s father.
When Worthy offered to wash the dishes after dinner, I volunteered to help him. Of course, Barrett chose that moment, the moment I’d finally almost gotten Worthy alone, to grab me and pull me aside.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?”
I stuck my nose in the air. “I’m not speaking to you until you give back my stuff.”
Barrett, anticipating my demand, pulled my cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. “You should check your texts.” Then he vanished without another word.
I usually love to do the opposite of what my cousins tell me to do, just to piss them off, but something in Barrett’s expression made me take him seriously. I unlocked my phone and found it, halfway down the list of texts from Bell and Frankie and Harrison.
Worthy: Don’t worry about what I said earlier. I was upset. We’re all good. I’m seeing someone else and I won’t bother you again.
My heart lurched and I swallowed hard to keep my dinner from coming back up. His date apparently went really well, because he was already “seeing” her. I was too late. I considered running back to my room and pretending I’d forgotten about washing the dishes, but I couldn’t hide from Worthy forever.
I watched him f
or a long moment, drinking in his solid, muscular form as he rinsed dishes and slid them into the dishwasher and started scrubbing pans. He was so intent on what he was doing, he didn’t seem to register my presence when I stepped up next to him and started drying the first of the pans he’d washed.
“I’m sorry.” I gave him a moment to acknowledge me or look at me, but he didn’t. “I invited you to Betty and Leon’s wedding for the wrong reasons, but they weren’t the reasons you think.”
He finally looked at me, his expression veiled, his face giving nothing away. “It doesn’t matter, now, okay. Can we just move on? Unless there’s still something you want from me?”
The way he tried to write off my apology, write me off, made me mad. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve being written off, but my temper is rarely rational. “Yeah, Worthy, there is still something I want from you. I want you to get over yourself and listen to me for a minute.”
He dropped the pan he’d been washing into the dishwater with a sudsy splash and glared at me. He was angry, too, and about ready to walk out, if I knew him at all, but he gestured for me to go on.
“For the record,” I said, knowing that doing anything less than putting everything out on the table would be the same as saying nothing. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. I don’t blame you for anything your father did and I never did. My only issue was that you lied to me and used me to get information about your father.”
“That’s not—” he started, his cheeks red.
I held up one hand. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Because even if you were only sticking with me to get information about your father, you also supported me. You were the rock I needed to get through everything. For that, I’m grateful you didn’t tell me sooner who your father was, and I’m amazed you were able to look me in the eyes and be kind to me, even when you found out my uncle killed your father. I invited you to the wedding, because I thought you must still want revenge on my family. I invited you to test you, to find out if I could trust you, and I get now that was wrong.”
Pain flashed across his face, but he tucked it quickly away. “You should have trusted me without a test.”
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