After a little time, I heard her stand from the bed, and she made her way over to me. We stood close, her right behind me. She wanted to touch me, I felt it, but she didn’t.
“Mocna si, moja hcerka,” she whispered.You are strong, my daughter.
A trembling breath escaped my mouth, an unconscious part of me attempting to free some of the intense pressure.
“Mati!” Charlotte burst through the door, as though it was just another room in the house—perhaps to her it was, but not to me.
My mother and I jumped, as if she had shouted at us in church, catching us in some disrespectful act.
“Oh,” Charlotte said, not at all pleased to find us together. “The man is here to fix the air conditioner.”
“In a moment,” my mother answered her in Slovenian. Charlotte nodded but made no move to leave. My mother’s hand came up to touch my shoulder, to settle an irreverent strand of hair that had come loose from my bun, but at the last moment, she pulled back and left with Charlotte.
* * *
I held myself together until I was outside of Elliott’s room, the door shut firmly behind me. The tears that ran hot and fast seemed to collect with the sheen of sweat, and my eyes stung, which made me tear even harder. Small tendrils of hair curled around my head, but mostly they were stuck to my skin in a tentacle-like fashion.
Wanting to make it back to my old bedroom before Charlotte caught me crying, I tried to rush, but in my haste, I ran right into Travis’s chest. His two arms came around me, holding me tight.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Elliott’s room?”
All I could do was nod and attempt to pull back. Not only was the nightgown thin, but it was also soaking from perspiration, sticking to me in places that it shouldn’t. He was being nice, though, keeping me close, or trying to.
His arms were clammy, and so was his chest, and his deodorant worked overtime. It wasn’t unpleasant, just not what I called mine.
“I should—” I sucked up a trembling breath. “I should—” I couldn’t seem to control the emotion in my voice or the tears streaming down my cheeks. I was overheated and soaked and my heart hurt something fierce. I wanted to be alone.
Only if I could get the damn words out without sobbing!
“How about we take a walk? Sometimes that helps. Some fresh air.” He glanced at the open window and almost winced. “It’s hot, but…”
I shook my head, about to use sign language to communicate. Instead, the words rushed out. “I can’t—” And then I looked down at my nightgown. That was a mistake. It drew attention to the situation, and my arms came up quickly over my chest.So damn obvious.
“I’ll wait for you to change,” Travis said, and to give him credit, he kept his eyes adverted.
“No—”
“Scarlett,” Brando said, appearing out of the shadows.
He hesitated for a second when he noticed the cotton nightgown, his face as hard as stone, and then it abruptly softened when he noticed my face.
There was no telling how long he’d been standing there, but it wasn’t long enough to notice how upset I was.
He pulled me to him, and I buried my face in his chest, sobbing like there was no tomorrow. He moved me toward my old bedroom, but not before I caught the steely glance he gave Travis.
“He was just trying to help.” I sucked up a gust of air and cried it out. “Don’t be mad at him.”
He didn’t reply, not for a while. He sat me on the bed and kept me to him, kissing the top of my head. I found it strange that he didn’t even ask me why I was crying. Then realization washed over me.
“Yeah,” he answered my broken-up question after I’d asked it. “I saw it this morning, when I went into Elliott’s room. I didn’t think you’d go looking for me there.” He kissed the top of my head. “I was going to tell you. I should have, baby.”
“No, no,” I waved this off. “It just caught me off guard.”
“Good or bad?”
“Good.” I took a deep breath and then released it slowly. “That’s why I’m crying. It—it means a lot to me.”
“Anch'io,” he whispered.Me, too.
