We’re distracted from further conversation when Uncle Craig walks through the back door with his briefcase in hand. The way he stumbles to a halt when he sees my mother has me biting my lower lip to hide my amusement.
Mom gives him her most winning smile. “Surprise!”
He stares at her for a long moment before his gaze swings to his wife. My uncle has a pretty good poker face, but I know he doesn’t enjoy Mom’s visits. She can be a disruptive, pain in the ass (per Uncle Craig during her last visit). Aunt Marnie’s shoulders shake with unconcealed mirth as she turns back to the stove to check dinner.
Sixty minutes later and I’m planning my escape. Mom has the tendency to make me feel claustrophobic. While everyone is busytalking after dinner, I quietly excuse myself and sneak out the back door. The sun has just dipped below the horizon as I settle onto a lounger near the pool and stretch my legs out in front of me. I close my eyes and suck in a breath before slowly exhaling. It takes a conscious effort to release the tension from my tightened muscles.
Thank God Mom booked a suite at a nearby hotel and isn’t staying at the house. I think Uncle Craig would probably pack his bags and vacate the premises if that were the case. The last time Lydia stayed with them, she had Uncle Craig running all over the place. By the fourth day, he was ready to wring her neck.
Just as I start to relax on the plush cushion, I catch the sound of the French door opening and closing. I keep my eyes squeezed shut, wanting to block out reality for a moment longer. I suspect Aunt Marnie has noticed my absence and has come to check on me. And probably sneak a smoke. She quit years ago, but Lydia tends to drive her bat shit crazy. She keeps a secret stash hidden in the garage for emergencies. A visit from Lydia is most definitely classified as an emergency.
When Aunt Marnie drops onto the lounger next to mine, I turn my head and open my eyes only to find that it isn’t my aunt at all.
It’s Carter.
The surprise of finding him a few feet from where I’m sprawled stuns me into silence. We’re not ones to seek each other out. Ever. What he’s doing is unprecedented.
He sits facing me. His knees are spread, and his elbows rest casually on them. Unsure what to say, I remain silent and wait for him to start the conversation. After everything that’s transpired between us these last few weeks, I feel at a loss as to how to act around him.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who feels ill at ease, because Carter clears his throat and shifts on the lounger. “Your mom is wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”
The breath slowly escapes from my lungs at the notion of heading inside again. I thought it would take her longer to notice my absence. I love being with my aunt and uncle. Not once have I ever considered escaping from their presence. Guilt slides through me that I feel thatway about my own mother. I should be thrilled that she carved out time to visit me. Instead, I feel resentful that she’s impinging on my time which only prompts more guilt. I’m not ready to head inside just yet, but there doesn’t seem to be a choice in the matter.
As I sit up, he says, “Don’t worry, I told her that you were in the shitter. Salmonella poisoning from bad brownies. That should buy you some time.”
My mouth falls open.
Is Carter really cracking a joke about the brownie incident that is never to be mentioned in Noah’s presence? Because he certainly didn’t think it was amusing at the time.
I wince at the laxative-brownie aftermath.
Poor Noah…
The chocolaty dessert really did a number on him. Who knew he had such a sensitive system? He wasn’t right for days after that. Thankfully, he’s forgiven me. It took about fifty apologies and lots of sad, puppy dog looks for him to speak with me again.
As the edges of my lips reluctantly bow upward, his do the same. My belly flutters at the penetrating look he gives me. I’m not sure if we’ve ever shared a smile. Usually, I’m too busy biting his head off or glaring for that to occur.
It’s kind of surreal to be having this moment with him.
We both fall silent. Oddly enough, it’s not stifling or uncomfortable. Carter glances at his hands before his gaze pierces mine. A sizzle of electricity zips unwantedly through my body. “So, that’s your mom, huh?”
I collapse on the lounger again and close my eyes. His words send a myriad of emotions crashing through me. “Yup, that’s her.” The woman is a train wreck. Albeit a gorgeous, well put together train wreck. Most kids, at some point, want to grow up to be like their parents. Not me. I don’t want to be anything like her. The thought of turning into Lydia is a frightening one. I’ve taken my fair share of psychology classes at BU. I’m well acquainted with the whole nature-verses-nurture debate.
In this instance, I hope nurture crushes nature.
When I say nothing more on the topic, he picks up the thread of our conversation. “She seems…” his voice trails off as if searching for a complimentary adjective to describe the woman he just met. “Interesting.”
I burst out laughing. Carter has no idea just howinterestingLydia can be. “That’s an understatement.”
A slow grin spreads across his face as his eyes take on a teasing glint. My heart stutters for a beat or two. It’s a little disconcerting to have all that charm focused solely on me. I’m tempted to blush and play with the ends of my hair, but I resist the urge. Barely. This guy right here,thisis the one all the girls fall for.
“I was trying to be polite.”
Now that’s funny. “Since when?” Polite has never been part of his playbook when dealing with me. Some of the attraction ebbs making it easier for me to breathe.
Carter sighs. His unflinching gaze locks on mine until I find myself trapped within his unrelenting stare.
“I don’t want to fight any more, Daisy.” His voice drops, becoming deeper. “The situation never should have escalated to the level that it did.”
