Page 12 of Fueled Fury

7

Lainey

Stirring my coffee, I watch silently as the cinnamon twirls around on the surface.

“Good morning,” Mom says, breaking me from my haze as I drop the spoon in the sink with a loud clank. The house is always quiet, but right now, it feels too quiet.

“Where’s David?” I ask, hoping my stepdad will show up soon. It’s not that I want to visit with him, it’s just that if he’s here, it takes the pressure off me having to converse with my mom.

“He’ll be home later. We weren’t expecting you, so he’d already planned to take Matt fishing this morning.” She eyes me curiously as I sit across the glass table from her. “I’m a little surprised myself that you’re visiting.”

“So I can’t come home for a weekend?”

“You’re always welcome, but just not expected. You didn’t even come for Christmas, so a random weekend is certainly surprising.” Her fingers drum against the glass as I watch her perfectly manicured nails tap against the table.

My eyes drop to my hands as I pick the edge of my polish. I really should reapply a fresh coat. With everything going on, combined with being in this house, my nails will definitely be trashed by the end of the day. And as my mom would say (as she has on repeat my entire life), that would make my hands look horribly disgusting and, even worse by her standards, unladylike.

“I’ll probably head back to school later tonight,” I say, looking at her over my cup as the smell of cinnamon supplies me with some comfort.

“Don’t be silly. You can stay for the weekend instead of making that drive again today.”

“It’s not that far.” Only an hour and a half drive, to be exact. But the drive time from Haine isn’t what keeps me away. It’s everything that happens when I get here. It’s usually a free-for-all where my mom finds something to criticize me about. Everything from my nail polish color to the way my hair is fixed. She attempts to make me more like her, and funnily enough, my dad wants me to be less like him. I just want to be me. I gave up arguing that point years ago when I realized it was hopeless. My parents are so worried about shaping me into what they want and getting their way, they refuse to consider something as simple as accepting me as I am.

“How’s Eli?” Mom asks, her eyes studying my hands as I tuck them under the table.

“He’s good.” Other than his lunatic brother showing up, but I’ll keep that tidbit to myself. I don’t want a lecture because my mom despises Austin as much as I do, only I don’t want the preaching that comes along with her distain for the eldest Hale brother. “Has David been out on the lake a lot?”

Thankfully the subject change is a success as she goes into a ten-minute explanation about how David would prefer to be driving his boat around Lake Livingston than be in the house. Can’t say I blame him.

Standing from the table, I sip my coffee as I look over the open water. The view is breathtaking but not serene courtesy of the house just off in the distance.

“Have you spoken to your father recently?” Mom asks, tightness in her tone.

She undoubtedly knows what my attention is set on—my dad’s house. Why anyone would buy a house just across the cove from their ex-husband is beyond me. I always figured it was due to the pettiness that she’s shown time and time again. After my dad said he wanted to keep the house in their divorce, she found an even bigger one across the cove from his. I know it was to spite him (as every move has been between them), but I wouldn’t want the constant reminder right outside my back door.

“I talked to him this morning.” I leave out that I was asking if he was home because his empty house would’ve been my first choice for the weekend. When he said he was hanging out all weekend alone, I decided to opt for the house where I thought I could disappear. If it’s just me and Dad, he’ll want to talk. And I don’t want to talk. Not about anything.

But my stepdad’s son being here makes my mother’s house even less appealing. Especially if Matt plans on hanging around. David’s son may look like his younger self’s spitting image, but the 2.0 version acts nothing like him. Matt has every obnoxious and sleezy quality known to man. The only thing worse is his vain female counterpart, his twin sister, Madison. They’re a year older than me, but thankfully I’ve only had to deal with them in short spurts since they lived with their mother and only visited David occasionally. Sometimes I’d get jealous that my mom doted over Madison, the daughter she prefers who is concerned more with appearance and gossip than watching the latest sporting event with the guys. Even more, I was jealous that Madison had Matt while I’m stuck being an only child. Especially when they would join together to torment me. Thankfully, Eli usually played the part of my protective brother and backup when the twins were being jerks. You’d think they would’ve grown out of it over the years, but last summer proved otherwise.

“Did he say anything about me?” Mom asks, breaking through my daze.

“Who?” I ask, trying to remember what we were talking about before I started recalling the disastrous Fourth of July barbecue last summer.

“Your father. Did Thomas say anything about me?”

“No, Mom. Dad didn’t mention your name.” After ten years, she’s not the topic of conversation, and that seems to bother her more than it should. Dad may not have moved on with another relationship, but he’s over my mom, who has been remarried for the last eight years. “I have some assignments to get done so I’m gonna sit out on the deck.”

The weather is perfect for sitting outside, and God knows I need to get some air and get out of the enormous, suffocating house. But it’s my mom who reminds me why the pool deck is my favorite place to hang out while here.

“Going to.”

“Huh?” I ask, turning to her as I grab my messenger bag.

“Going to, not gonna. You are going to sit out on the deck.”

“Okay, Mom.” I push away the annoyance at the correction and head outside before I get a lecture on all the proper ways a lady should speak. None of which I give a damn about.

Hurrying out the door, I head to my favorite poolside chair on the lower entertaining deck and get comfortable. My mom’s house is to my left, my dad’s house across the cove on my right, the pool in front of me as I look past it towards the water where the cove opens up into the larger area of the lake. There are houses lined all around the lake. Some modest like my dad’s, some extravagant like my mom’s but all look more appealing than the two I’m sitting between. I exhale a deep sigh, take out my book and begin the assigned reading. It’s only minutes later that my eyes get heavier and heavier, which isn’t surprising with the little sleep I’d gotten last night before scurrying out of the house before sunrise this morning. Anything to avoid the asshole who ruined my race last night. My head falls back and I close my eyes. He’ll still be there when I return, but at least I’m getting a smidgen of peace before I have to deal with him again.