Veronica didn’t heed the chill. She barreled over to hug her sister Betsy, bestow a peck on Harry and Stew’s cheeks and then stepped over to Caleb. She flung her arms around him. “Caleb, give your mother a hug!”
He leaned down to return her embrace. “Hi, Mom.”
She turned with open curiosity and an outstretched hand to Orchid. On automatic pilot, Orchid shook her hand. “Orchid Paige, nice to meet you.”
“Veronica Walker, Phoenix and Caleb’s mother,” she said, looking as if she’d remembered something distasteful.
Hearing their mother pronounce Phoenix’s name, picturing how much she must love her boys, made Orchid feel faint.
“I remember you,” she said, tone sharp.
Orchid looked up and startled as Veronica stepped towards her.
“He said you didn’t want to see him when he was—”
Orchid could hear from her ascending pitch where this was going. “He didn’t want to seeme,” she interrupted, at the same time that Caleb spoke.
“I thought the same thing, Mom, but Phoenix didn’t tell her,” he said. The memories slammed her. She winced.
“So, what are you doing here now?” Veronica asked.
Caleb put a meaty arm over his mother’s shoulders. “I invited her here to give her a chance to talk with Phoenix.”
Harry chuckled. Then he covered his mouth and turned away. He and Stew took the stairs two at a time to join a singing Lucy whom the group could hear playing a video game upstairs.
“Not going well?” Veronica asked archly.
Orchid shook her head, looking down.
The older woman leaned in with a voice so low it doubled in power. Her words punched Orchid in the stomach. “He has been hurt enough. If you hurt him, I will find you wherever you are and I . . . will . . . kill . . . you . . . with . . . my . . . own . . . hands.”
Mouth agape, Orchid tried to recover enough to say she would never hurt Phoenix. On purpose, anyway.
Caleb, the only other person with a chance to hear the threat, spoke first. He nodded darkly. “So now I know where I get it from,” he said, and steered his mom towards the minibar set up in the corner of the living room.
George finished rimming glasses with lemon. He held up two tumblers as if offering sacrifices to gods. “Chivas,” he said, handing one drink to Veronica and the other to Caleb.
Orchid, stumbling, took the stairs up to her room where she shut the door to the shame of being in a place where she was wanted by almost no one and misunderstood by nearly all.
A shower, smoothing wet tresses and a fresh outfit soothed a fraction of Orchid’s chafed nerves. A knock sounded.Phoenix?She hurried to open the door. He’d been limping a little, and though she wanted to see him, to explain, she also hoped he hadn’t trekked up two flights to see her.
A fair-skinned redhead stood, her teeth gently working her lower lip. “Hey, I’m Lucy, Harry’s girlfriend,” she said, with an easy swing of her ponytail.
“Oh hi, I’m Orchid,” she said, moving aside so Lucy could enter.
“Yeah, I know.” She entered the room and flopped onto the bed. “I am so glad you’re here.”
“Really? No one else seems to be.”
“Yeah, it takes the pressure off me, you know?”
“How’s that?” Orchid asked, turning back to the mirror to apply eyeliner. She felt comfortable with this easygoing outsider, who, like her, was not related by blood or marriage.
“I don’t want to be the only nonfamily member here,” she said, echoing the same dynamics Orchid observed. “That’s why I didn’t come at Thanksgiving. Harry’s parents are intimidating, you know?”
“Oh?” Orchid asked, peering into the mirror to curl her lashes from the base to the tip.
“Well, George is completely famous on Wall Street, and they’re like bajillionaires.”
