by D.L. Miles
Chapter 3
“Liv!” my dad greeted me and Luke at the front door of my…his house. “It’s about time you got here. How about a phone call every now and again?”
The mailbox that sat at the end of the driveway had three balloons attached to it, while a large number of cars crowded the driveway and street. The sun was high overhead, making it a good day to hold a birthday party. My childhood home was large, containing three floors, but it looked like the typical suburban home; red brick exterior, white window panes and a colourful garden on display.
“Hi dad,” I smiled and he wrapped me in one of my families traditional bear hugs. Luke always said watching us hug was like watching a grizzly bear hold a puppy. I wasn’t sure why I was a puppy; maybe because my eyes sloped down a little bit. I was glad I wasn’t holding Joshua’s gift because it would have been crushed. When my dad finally released me from his tight grip I said, “I’ve been sick.”
“That’s because you don’t take your vitamins,” he scolded, calloused hand wagging a finger at me. He turned to Luke, “You’re supposed to be taking care of her!”
“I’m trying,” Luke admitted, “but you know how she is.”
“Do I ever,” my father grimaced but quickly changed back to the cheery man he was, “but she’s your problem now, son.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “She’s always been my problem George.”
My dad let out a hearty laugh and waved us inside. We stepped up the two concrete stairs and through the threshold into the house I grew up in. I took a deep breath, taking in all the familiar scents and sounds.
We walked right into the kitchen where a large cake sat on the island with Joshua’s name on it, decorated with fifteen candles. A few gifts sat next to it, covered in colourful bows and wrapping. Luke set our gifts beside them, along with Neeson’s gift.
We had a rather large kitchen, with marble countertops and sleek black cupboards. It opened into the dining room at the front of the house, separated by only a thin set of sliding doors, with glass ones leading into the backyard. I didn’t have many memories here, but I did have one of my mother and me baking cookies. I grabbed a bottle of water and gulped it down, pretending it would cleanse me of the memories.
“Geez, kid, thirsty?” my dad joked. I shrugged him off and looked out the patio doorway.
A few of our neighbours had already shown up, but other than them I barely recognized anyone. I could spot some of Joshua’s friends from school, and some of our extended family as well, but nobody worth talking to.
“Is Geegee not here yet?” Luke asked, noticing my eyes fall over the crowd in our backyard.
“Hey now,” came my brothers gravelly voice from the other room. He poked his head around the corner and shot Luke a grin. “They might call me that, but you cannot. C’mon man, I hate that name.”
“Would you prefer Junior then?” Luke joked. Geegee came into the room and shook hands with my friend. He wrapped me in a hug as well, an unusually tight one. I noticed he smelled like cigarette smoke, and wondered if he had started smoking again. I hoped not, since our father would kill him if he had.
“No,” he ordered us. “Only she can call me Geegee because it’s cute when she does it.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. I had accidentally given my eldest brother the nickname of Geegee when I was about three; his actual name was George Junior. My brain somehow felt Geegee was appropriate at the time and it just stuck. The twelve year old boy that was Geegee let it slide; who would deny his only baby sister that?
I patted his back quickly and took another drink of water.
“Is Neeson here yet?” I asked. “I need to tell him what he got Joshua.”
“Did he make you get him a gift again?” my dad pursed his lips. “That boy.” A growl and a roll of the eyes, and he was smiling again.
“Luke actually got it,” I told them. Each of them gave Luke a sly glance, as if they didn’t want him to notice. It was obvious, and he did see them looking but ignored it. He was getting very good at pretending nobody watched him, but I knew he cared.
Luke opened the patio door and said, “I’m going to go say hello to everyone.” And he was gone.
“How’s he doing?” my dad asked me as I leaned against the marble counter. I pulled my lips towards my teeth, unsure.
“He’s okay,” I finally said, “I think Dr. Wineman has been helping him a lot.”
“That’s good,” Geegee crossed his arms, matching my father’s stance. The men in my family weren’t ones to talk about their feelings, or about things that went wrong. It was one reason we avoided talking about mom.
I wished I knew how Luke was actually doing, but the truth was we hadn’t talked much lately. He was always out, doing something without me while I was in bed sick, or just staying home. The past few weeks we had been living together was the furthest I’d ever been from him.
My father cleared his throat and nodded his head out the patio door. He walked out, most likely expecting us to follow but just as I was about to step into the summer air Geegee grabbed my arm.
“Hey, Liv,” he said, his brow furrowed to show how concerned he really was. Our dad never looked back to check on us and Geegee continued, “are you really okay?”
“I’m fine,” I wiggled out of his hands, “I wasn’t arrested for murder and it wasn’t my picture on the news.”
“But you were there when the thing that did kill those women was found,” my brothers hazel eyes were hard to look into. Because I was seventeen they had been given a few of the details I had tried so hard to keep secret. I had almost been killed; of course they’d be worried. Geegee went on, “If you ever need to come back, you know dad won’t mind.”
“I do,” I shuffled my feet out the door, knowing how nice and comforting it would be to return home. With Luke always gone the apartment felt so lonely sometimes. But I was an adult now, I couldn’t run home every time I felt lonely; I had to stand my ground.
Outside I found my way to Neeson as he stuffed his mouth full of cocktail wieners. I tapped his shoulder to get his attention, having to almost stretch my arm to its full length just to reach. Neeson turned, hand covering his mouth just to keep everything inside.
“Hey Livy!” he smiled, mouth packed. He chewed quickly and swallowed before he said, “How’s it going?”
“Luke picked up a poster for you to give to Joshua,” I told him, eyes falling to the other pieces of food on the white clothed table. I picked up a mini cucumber sandwich and began to nibble on it, finding that my usual favourite didn’t taste as good as I remembered.
“Great, thanks so much!” he inhaled deeply through his nose and I almost thought his eyes changed just as the man at the antique stores did, to black though. But when he looked down on me with his usual gentle demeanor they were a normal hazel. He asked, “Are you wearing perfume or something? You smell a little…different.”
“No,” I threw the sandwich into a nearby garbage can, hoping the elderly woman next door didn’t catch me wasting food. “Is it a good or bad different?”
He pulled his lips back and just said, “Different.”
A silence fell over us as I began to watch the party-goers. Joshua should be arriving soon, and I wished he would just get there already. All I could smell were the cocktail wieners behind me. I noticed Neeson watching me and I failed to control the venom in my tone as I said, “What?”
“Nothing,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “dad’s been worried about you.”
“I know,” I shifted my eyes towards the ground, “has he said anything about Luke?”
“Not really,” Neeson admitted, “but I had a hunch he was Eidolon.”
That surprised me and I looked back up at him. The clouds above framed his head like a halo and I squinted. “You did? Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said quickly, whipping around and picking up another cocktail wiener.
“It was just a thought.” He shoved the food into his mouth and pointed at the patio door, my father emerging with Joshua.
Everyone cheered for him and he blushed, an unusual sight on his six foot frame. After begrudgingly shaking a few people’s hands he waved at his friends and came up to me.
“Happy birthday,” I said and opened my arms for a hug. He took it and let go as fast as he could; Joshua hated most contact with people, even his own flesh and blood. I was never insulted by it, not like Neeson was sometimes. Most days Neeson needed human contact as if to reassure himself of something.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking Neeson’s hand into his own.
“Guess what?” Neeson said. “Your big sis is becoming a real girl, she’s wearing perfume!”
“I am not!” I shot him a glower. Neeson was the brother that always knew how to annoy me best. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can’t smell anything,” Joshua gave Neeson and me a confused look. Someone from his school called him over and he left, still completely baffled by us. That was usually how it went between us; Neeson and I baffled most people and Joshua’s favourite sibling had always been Geegee. He had never gotten along with Toby, who still hadn’t arrived either.
Over the fence the neighbours dog began to bark, loud and threatening. It was one thing to hear a dog bark at other animals, simply chasing a squirrel for fun, but this was different; it was vicious. Neeson and I looked over at it and it almost seemed to be barking at us, warning us away. The owner was on our side of the fence with a drink and moved towards it, telling it to quiet down. It did and I turned back to face towards Joshua.
“You do smell different,” Neeson mumbled to himself, staring down at me.
I pulled out my phone and pretended to look busy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”