Page 10 of Let’s Be Real

She’d sent it yesterday, and I was still debating whether I wanted to reply. Most of me didn’t, but a small part was curious about what she’d say, given the chance.

A very small part.

“You look serious.” Samantha slid a pile of tortilla chips and melted cheese in front of me as she took a seat on the stool next to mine.

“Yeah.” I set my phone face down on the counter. “Louise texted.”

“Oh.” She drummed her fingertips on the marble. “Oh, Louise. Your mother.”

“Right. Sorry, I forgot you don’t know her.”

“I’m sure I met her when I was little, but no, I don’t remember her. And Adrian—on the rare instances he mentions her—calls her ‘that bitch.’ It took me a second to register her name.”

I had to laugh, but it came out dry and tired. “He’s not a fan. But, hey, she earned the name.”

“Leaving your kids high and dry will do that.” She picked up a loaded chip, pausing with it close to her mouth. “Does she want to see you?”

“To talk.” I focused on the plate in front of me. “I’m considering it. My brothers won’t be happy.”

After disappearing from our lives when we were children, leaving us with a father who had no interest in parenting, Louise had reappeared this summer to let us know she was dying. I wouldn’t have believed her, except…well, she’d looked like she was already dipping her toes in the grave. Then Roman, our self-appointed protector, had looked into it and accompanied her to talk to her doctor.

Indeed, she was dying, and her doctors had exhausted all available treatment. Now, all there was to do was wait and make her comfortable in her final weeks or months.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Her reappearance, her imminent death…any of it.

“Do what you need to do for yourself. They’ll get over it.” Her shoulder brushed my arm. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I don’t…sleep. Not well, at least.”

“That sucks. I love sleeping. I would rot in bed all day if I could. Is your room optimized for good sleep?”

My brow crinkled. “I really don’t know.”

“Nate.” Her hand landed on my shoulder with a thud. “You clearly have no idea how important getting your bedroom’s vibe right is. Once we finish eating, we’re going to your room. I’ll tell you what you need to do.”

It took effort to swallow my mouthful of chips and cheese. “You don’t have to do that.”

Her eyes flared wide, and horror crossed her features. These past few days, I’d noticed she was incapable of hiding her emotions. Either that, or she didn’t try. Every thought, every feeling, became a wrinkled nose or rapid blink. A flush in her cheeks or sharp rise of her chest.

“Oh my god. Of course you don’t want me in your bedroom.” She covered her face with her napkin. “I’m sorry. Ignore me, please. I’m bad with boundaries and like to try to solve problems. Clearly, a deadly combination.”

For the third time tonight, I laughed. “Very deadly. How many lives have you ended that way?”

One mossy-green eye emerged from behind the napkin. “None yet, but you never know when it could happen.”

I shook my head and picked up another chip. “Don’t worry. You haven’t overstepped my boundaries. There just isn’t a point in fixing up my bedroom. I’ve been a bad sleeper since birth, and the medication I take doesn’t help.”

Her shoulders fell. “Even if you aren’t able to sleep, having a place to go to relax is important. Why do I get the feeling your bedroom isn’t that?”

“You’d be right. The bedroom is the last place I put in any effort.”

Her eyes met mine, and the double meaning behind what I’d said seemed to strike us at the same time.

She sputtered a laugh. “Oh, that’s very sad for your partners. Poor girls.”

My chin dropped to my chest. “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

“You did.” She loaded another chip with cheese and sour cream and managed to stuff it in her mouth without making a mess of her face. When she noticed me watching, she covered her mouth with her hand, but the light in her eyes gave away her smile.