“That’s how I feel, too,” Dad said. “That doesn’t change the fact that you should’ve told me, Aisling. We’re all under a lot of stress and no one should be keeping secrets.”
“I don’t understand,” Braden said. “Why is she obsessed with talking to Aisling, who wants nothing to do with her, when there are other members of this family who want to see her?”
I could tell that’s what bothered my brother most. He was desperate for a relationship with the woman, yet she seemed fixated on me. “I don’t know,” I answered after a beat. “Maybe you should ask her at dinner.”
“Don’t worry,” Dad said. “I’m going to ask her at dinner. I don’t expect this to be a pleasant evening.”
“So … a normal night in the Grimlock household?” Griffin quipped, earning a withering look from Dad. “I think I’m going to pour myself a drink.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as he slunk toward the bar. He looked cute when he was afraid of my father. It didn’t happen as much as it used to, which was kind of a bummer.
“We’re going to do the best we can,” Dad said. “I expect everyone to be on their best behavior.”
“You can count on me,” Braden said, proving he was the biggest suck-up in the room.
“Cillian?” Dad prodded.
“I’ll do my best,” Cillian said. He was a people pleaser and always wanted to make Dad proud.
“Aisling?” Dad looked almost afraid to turn his attention to me.
“I’ll see where the night takes me,” I answered, refusing to make a promise I knew I couldn’t keep. “If it comes down to it, though, I’m not ruling out a rousing game of sock hockey and checking her into the boards.”
Dad smirked as Braden glowered.
“I think we can all get behind that,” Dad said. “Let’s see how things turn out, shall we?”
I had a feeling he felt the same sense of dread I did. No matter what, things were not going to turn out well.
“SIT HERE.”
Griffin was no-nonsense when he picked a chair between Aidan and himself and herded me toward it when it was time to move into the dining room.
Mom showed up a few minutes early, exchanging hugs and excited exclamations with Braden, Aidan and Jerry while the rest of us hung back. Cillian and Redmond reluctantly hugged her when she pressed, but they didn’t seem thrilled with the prospect.
That left Dad and me.
For his part, Dad merely kept refilling his bourbon glass and watching the interaction while I pretended I was incapable of making eye contact with my mother. That lasted exactly fifteen minutes – until the butler said dinner was served – and then it was easy for me to skirt around Mom and practically race toward the dining room.
Griffin wasn’t new to Grimlock family dynamics, so he stuck close to me when we got to the dining room and then forced me into a spot where he could keep an eye on me. I knew I should’ve been insulted, but I was too grateful for his presence. Huh. How did that even happen?
“So, Griffin, Aisling tells me that you’ll be moving in together very soon,” Mom said, pouring gravy on her prime rib as she focused on my boyfriend. “That has to be … exciting … for you.”
She said “exciting” the way I would say “maggot.” She looked as if the entire thing was somehow distasteful and she was having trouble stomaching the idea. That was pretty funny considering she was probably eating people to stay alive. Griffin wasn’t bothered by her attitude. Er, well, at least he didn’t show it if he was irritated.
“I am excited,” Griffin confirmed, pushing a glass of water in front of me in an effort to make sure I didn’t focus on my wine to the detriment of my reasoning skills. “The new place is painted and I have movers scheduled to pick up the rest of my stuff. That just leaves Aisling’s stuff for us to move.”
“My brothers are helping,” I offered.
“Since when?”
“Since I talked to Redmond this morning and he’s helping,” I replied. “I don’t like manual labor.”
Redmond snickered as Griffin shook his head. “We don’t mind. It will take only a few hours.”
“I mind,” Braden said. “I don’t want to help her.”
“No one invited you anyway,” I shot back, cringing when Griffin squeezed my knee under the table. I didn’t miss Dad’s dark look when he glanced at us. He was clearly trying to figure out where Griffin’s missing hand went.
“We’ll all help,” Dad said, taking me by surprise. He didn’t move his own laundry from the floor to the basket. I couldn’t picture him lifting boxes.
“I would love to help,” Mom enthused.
“I have more than enough help,” I said, earning a heated glare from Braden. The meal was spiraling out of control quickly. I could feel it.
“Personally, I’m going to miss my Bug,” Jerry lamented, stabbing his fork into the mountain of potatoes he fashioned next to his prime rib. “It’s not going to be the same without her.”
“You have me,” Aidan reminded him, an annoyed look flashing across his face. “I’d think that would make you excited.”
“Oh, I am excited,” Jerry said hurriedly. “I just don’t know how I’m going to make it without our monthly spa nights … and those marathon sessions of The Golden Girls … and our game nights.”
“None of that is going anywhere,” Griffin said. “You can still have your spa nights. You can still watch as much television as you want. I’m not going to get in your way and neither is Aidan.”
“What about the game nights?”
Griffin stilled. Every game night we’d tried to engage in had ended with someone throwing a board … or accusing someone of cheating … or storming into one of the bedrooms and slamming the door. “I think we’re going to place a moratorium on game nights.”
“But why?” Jerry looked pain. “I like them.”
“But you’re a poor loser,” Griffin pointed out.
“I never lose.”
“Uh-huh.” Griffin shot me a look. “Do you want to take this one?”
I was irritated and on edge, but I wasn’t stupid. “Not really,” I replied, shifting my gaze to Cillian. “Where is Maya?”
In addition to being Cillian’s girlfriend, Maya was Griffin’s sister. She was a nurse at a local hospital, and even though Griffin wasn’t initially keen on his sister dating one of my brothers, he’d come to accept it.
“Maya is working a double shift today so we can take a three-day weekend at the end of the month,” Cillian supplied. “I’m going to the west side of the state for Thanksgiving because she wants me to meet her mother.”
“Oh.” For some reason my stomach twisted and I slid a sidelong look in Griffin’s direction. He seemed fixated on his plate. “That’s nice.”
“Uh-oh,” Aidan sang out, shaking his head. “Somebody is in trouble.”
“Nobody is in trouble,” I snapped. “Just … mind your own business.”
“Oh, I definitely think someone is in trouble,” Braden said, smirking when Griffin scorched him with a murderous look. “I think Griffin is embarrassed to take Aisling to meet his mother. I can’t say I blame him or anything, but that’s got to sting, huh, Ais?”
I didn’t want to admit it, but the realization that Griffin didn’t seem keen on introducing me to the rest of his family hurt. I had no idea why, though. I generally didn’t care what other people thought of me and I’d had more than enough of mothers of late. “It’s fine,” I said, lowering my voice. “It doesn’t matter.”
“That’s not what’s going on,” Griffin said, shaking his head. “Don’t say things like that when you have no idea what the truth really is.”
“What is the truth?” Braden challenged. “If you’re not embarrassed, why is Maya taking Cillian home although they’ve only been dating half the time you’ve been with Aisling, but you can’t be bothered?”
Braden was obviously getting his revenge for my earlier antics. I wanted to be angry, but I understood the tendency to l
ash out. Oh, who am I kidding? I can be angry and understand him at the same time. Sympathy is overrated. He’s a righteous ass some days.
“I have to work the day before and the day after Thanksgiving,” Griffin said. “That means we’d have to drive across the state and back in one day. I thought Aisling would prefer having dinner with you … people.”
“That sounds very pragmatic,” Dad said. “We’ll be happy to have you.”
“He’s lying, Aisling,” Braden said. “He’s embarrassed.”
I knew Braden was trying to get under my skin, but part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he was telling the truth. There was no way I could tackle a serious topic like that with my mother at the table, though. I decided to change the subject. “Hey, Jerry? Do you want to go shopping with me tomorrow? I need stuff for the new place.”
“I would love that,” Jerry said. “Can we get lunch, too?”
“Absolutely.”
“Can we drink at lunch?”
“Drinking is a must,” I said, ignoring my glass of water and slamming half of the wine I poured when sitting. “In fact, I can’t get enough of drinking right now.”
“Aisling … .” Griffin’s voice was low and full of worry when he locked gazes with me. “Do you want to talk in the other room?”
“Not even a little.”
“I … .”
Dad shook his head to cut off Griffin. He could sense trouble brewing and wanted to head it off. “I think a shopping day for Jerry and Aisling is a marvelous idea,” he said. “I want to buy you a housewarming gift, so if you see something you want, make sure to tell me.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said.
“I want to do it.” Dad’s eyes were sympathetic. “You guys should go to a spa or something to relax tomorrow, too.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Jerry said. “I can’t wait!”
“I can’t either,” I said, forcing a smile for my best friend’s benefit.
“That does sound like a great day,” Mom said, her grin mischievous. “Maybe I should go with you.”
I opened my mouth to squash that suggestion as if it was a really creepy bug, but it was already too late because Jerry was clapping and bobbing his head.
“It will be just like old times,” Jerry said. “I can’t wait!”
“Me either,” Mom enthused, gracing me with a challenging look as she practically dared me to crush Jerry.
“I can’t wait either,” I gritted out, forcing a happy smile. “It’s going to be a great day.”
“Aisling, I … .” Griffin was clearly at a loss for words and concerned about the change in plans for the following day, but I opted to ignore him.
“Someone pass me another bottle of wine,” I ordered. “I need to get drunk.”
“Join the club,” Dad muttered, sipping his bourbon. “I figure if I’m lucky, I’ll pass out before dessert.”
Now that was a great idea.
8
Eight
“I don’t need your help.”
I slapped away Griffin’s hand as he tried to help me out of his truck. I got drunk enough that spending the night at Grimlock Manor seemed a forgone conclusion, but Griffin was having none of it when he ordered me to his truck.
I left my car behind with a promise that I would pick it up in the morning. Dad was so drunk all he could do was wave before staggering toward the stairs that led to his wing of the house. My mother remained, holding court with my brothers and Jerry in the parlor. Her final gaze seemed almost evil when it landed on me. Of course, that could’ve had something to do with the wine coursing through me.
“Shut up, Aisling,” Griffin ordered, grabbing me around the waist and directing me away from the townhouse I shared with Jerry and toward our new home. “We’re staying here tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to deal with Jerry and Aidan when they come back drunk,” Griffin replied. “I bought towels this afternoon. We can shower here in the morning.”
“You bought towels?” For some reason the admission surprised me. “I thought I had to buy towels.”
“The bathroom is blue,” Griffin replied. “It wasn’t hard to pick out blue towels and a rug. You can buy the towels for the other bathroom.”
“Well … awesome.”
I tripped over the step as I tried to reach for the door handle and Griffin caught me before I could fall face first into the metal door. He held me with one arm as he unlocked the door with his free hand and then pushed me inside.
The townhouse was dark but I knew where the mattress was located and kicked off my shoes as I trudged in that direction. I managed to make it to the mattress before falling down, my legs hanging off the side as my head hit the pillow.
“I’m tired,” I announced.
“You’re drunk and you’re going to be hurting tomorrow,” Griffin corrected. “I’m going to run next door for bottles of water and aspirin. Do you want anything else?”
“Nope.”
“Great,” Griffin muttered.
I remained where I was until I heard the townhouse door shut and then managed to roll to my side. I had to go to the bathroom, but I wasn’t sure if my unsteady legs would support my weight. Instead of risking it – and a potential head injury should I smack into a wall in the dark – I crawled to the bathroom.
I was certain I’d been in there only a few seconds when Griffin appeared in the doorway and flicked on the light. Something about his expression told me it was longer, though. I sat with my back to the wall and stared at the counter as he knelt beside me and pushed my messy hair out of my face.
“Are you going to throw up?”
I considered the question. “Probably not.”
“Probably or definitely?”
“Nothing in this life is definite,” I replied. “The only certain things are taxes and death.” I snorted at my own joke. “Dad used to say that when we were kids. I’m not sure I get it.”
“You’re too blitzed to get anything,” Griffin said. “What do you need help with? Do you want to wash your face?”
“Kind of, but I don’t want to get up.”
Griffin sighed. “I’m worried about moving you to the mattress in case you throw up,” he said. “I’m going to put a bottle of water on the floor and I would like you to take some aspirin before you pass out. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“Sure.”
Griffin disappeared again, returning a moment later with the aspirin, water, a blanket and a pillow. He tossed the blanket and pillow on the ceramic tile and opened the bottle of aspirin. I took the tablets without complaint and guzzled half of the bottle of water before fumbling to re-cap it. Griffin got annoyed watching me struggle and took the bottle from me and twisted the cap before tilting my body so I could lay flat on the floor.
Instead of leaving me to what was sure to be a miserable night, he sat next to me and held my hand. His expression reflected uncertainty, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why.
“Are you angry with me?”
“Huh?” Griffin shifted his brown eyes to me. “No. I’m not exactly happy with the situation, but I know why you got so drunk. I could’ve stopped it if I wanted, but … there didn’t seem to be much point.”
“She’s going to eat us all,” I announced, lifting one arm over my head and pressing the other to my forehead to block out the light. “She’s trying to lull us into a false sense of security. Then she’s going to eat us. I’ll just bet she shares us with her wraith friends.”
“That’s a distinct possibility,” Griffin said. “There’s also the possibility that she loves you and she’s trying to do right by you.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I have no idea,” Griffin replied. “I don’t want you to let your guard down, though. I wouldn’t be able to take it if something happened to you. You need to stay vigilant.”
“That should be easy when we’re shopping,” I said.
“Did you see how she did that? She totally forced the situation so there was nothing I could do.”
“You could’ve done something,” Griffin challenged. “You could’ve made a scene and then everything would’ve gotten worse. You didn’t do that. Instead you punished yourself with wine to block your true feelings.”
“And what are my true feelings?”
“Go to sleep, Aisling.”
“I’m serious,” I said, lifting my chin. “How do I feel? Do you know? I don’t know. I keep trying to figure it out and all I get is a headache for my efforts.”
“Well, you’re going to have a headache for another reason when you wake up tomorrow,” Griffin said. “You need to get some sleep. I’ll be close if you need me. Don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
“Okay.” I was exhausted. I knew it would be only a matter of minutes before I passed out. “I love you.”
Griffin didn’t immediately respond. Instead he rolled to his knees and flicked off the light. I was certain he left the room so he could sleep on the mattress until I felt his body slide in next to mine. “Give me some of that pillow.”
I was stunned, but I acquiesced. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sleeping with you.”
“But … that’s not comfortable.”
“I don’t care about being comfortable,” Griffin said. “I think part of what happened tonight was my fault. We can’t talk about it right now because your mind is a mess and I’m still not convinced you won’t throw up, but I’m going to stick close to you. We’ll talk about the rest of it in the morning.”
“What’s the rest of it?” I honestly couldn’t remember.
“Go to sleep, Aisling,” Griffin ordered, resting his head close to mine and kissing my cheek. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and Aisling?”
“Hmm.”
“I love you, too.”
Grim Expectations (Aisling Grimlock Book 5) Page 7