I pounce on the opportunity. “Oh, why is that?”
“Boy trouble,” she hedges.
Lila’s frame stiffens ever-so-slightly, which I only notice because I’m paying close attention to their body language. Just like I would when interviewing a suspect or witness. It’s not always what’s said, but what isn’t.
“Not that you care,” Kenzie adds under her breath.
Unable to let the jab slide, I calmly reply, “The phone works both ways.”
She doesn’t answer, just curling her upper lip at me before guzzling down more beer.
Honestly, why is it always on me to reach out? It doesn’t have to be this shitty between us. Same with Mom.
Fucking Andrews’ talk about family has infiltrated my conscience. I almost forgot that I don’t give a shit.
The vibe shifts, the old familiar tension between us returning with nothing more than a few words.
Perking up, Lila glances around the restaurant. “Where is our appetizer?”
An obvious attempt to change the subject.
“Psh. As if you’re going to eat fried jalapeño poppers,” Kenzie scoffs.
Lila shrugs. “Fair.”
An uncomfortable silence settles over us at the table as I struggle to control my frustration. Too bad I’m not here alone with Lila. The thorn beside the rose drastically lessens my chances of a successful outcome.
Eventually, our server appears with our app. Kenzie dives in while Lila demurely declines.
After polishing off the last jalapeño, my sister licks the ranch dressing off her fingertips and grimaces. “Oh no. Not again.”
I scan the bar, searching for what might have caused her sudden shift. When my vision returns, she’s rubbing her forehead, her eyes pinching closed.
Lila shifts closer to my sister, touching her forearm comfortingly. “What’s wrong, Kenz?”
“Another migraine. I can feel it coming on. It’s gonna be a bad one. And I left my meds at home.”
“Okay, we can ask the server to make it to go or just cancel the food if you need to leave right away,” Lila suggests.
“Nah. I don’t want you to have to eat cold food on my account.” Glancing at me, Kenzie asks, “Reed, would you bring Lila home after y’all are done? I’ll leave now.” She turns back to Lila without waiting for my response, already grabbing her purse and scooting out of the booth. “Just have him box up my burger and bring it home for me. I’ll eat it after this passes.”
An actor my sister isnot.
Besides, Lila ordered a salad, as per the norm. And salads are typically served cold.
Checking Kenzie’s reaction to see how she plays this, I ask, “Are you okay to drive? Probably not a good idea to get behind the wheel if you’re having a migraine.”
Which must be a new ailment. She never had those growing up. If she had, no doubt she’d have used it for extra sympathy and attention. Not to say migraines aren’t debilitating, but she’d have absolutely exploited it.
Kenzie rolls her lips into a pout. “It’s fine. I usually have about fifteen minutes before they really get bad. I’ll be home by then.”
“What about the beers?” I ask.
“Not even a little buzzed, Officer Do Right.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you get popped for a DUI.”
Drifting from the table, my sister sticks her tongue out at me, which is nicer than the bird finger I was expecting.
