“Thanks…” I unzip and shrug it off, conscious that it’s been a while since I had a shower, and in this heat, I’ve been sweating for most of it. Plus it has a velvet bag stuffed with diamonds in one pocket, Kurt’s little black box in the other. “I’ll just… uh… lay it on the sofa.”
“Have you eaten?” my mother asks, true to form.
“No.” Not since a road-side burger eight hours ago. My stomach rumbles at the thought of food.
“I made plenty,” she says; also true to form.
“Fantastic.”
No hugs, no awkward attempt at one. She waves at one of the two empty chairs and goes to the kitchen, fetching me a plate and silverware.
“Back so soon?” my brother asks dryly as I take a seat.
“It’s because I feel so welcome here,” I say, using the motion of tucking in my chair to take a subtle sniff of my armpits. Nottoobad.
Caleb watches me like there’s some truth to that sarcastic deflection, and maybe there is.
“Of course you are,” my father says loudly, taking his seat again.
Conversation is stilted. Maybe it wasn’t before I arrived, but it sure as hell is now. My father says nothing, but I catch him glancing at me once in a while, and he gives me small smiles. My brother fillsthe silence talking about work, some project at the bank. My mother focuses entirely on him, ignoring me as only she can; for once, I’m grateful for it.
I eat, keeping my eyes down. Not from any sense of decorum or guilt, but just because I’m exhausted. At least I’m safe here. No one knows where I am, and I can sleep tonight, take stock tomorrow.
After dinner, all I want to do is head for my room, shift some of the boxes my mother stores there until I can find my bed, and crash. But Caleb takes my arm.
“A walk in the garden, Gen?”
In other words, he wants to talk.
“Sure.”
He slides the patio door open, and we step out into the gloom of the late evening, the shadows thick despite the lights from the house. But we both know the garden so well we could probably walk it blindfolded.
“What really brings you here?” he asks, his arm still hooked around mine. Affectionate, but also preventing me from fleeing.
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t mind me saying, you look…” He purses his lips in search of the right word. “…frazzled.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Frazzled?”
He waves his free hand in the air. “Ragged. Wrung out.” A glance across at me with a playful twist to his lips. “Running on fumes.”
“It’s a long way from LA.”
“No planes today?” He knows perfectly wellthere were.
“Spur of the moment decision.”
“Okay, great.” He stops, turning to face me. “Now let’s cut the bullshit. What are you running from?” His eyes narrow. “Or who?”
“Brotherly concern?”
“In part, yes. Also worried what shit you might be bringing down on the family, and KaeLynn.”
Ouch. Also, fair.
“None.” Because no one knows I’m here. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
