Page 105 of Gifts

“What the fuck is going on between you and Mr. Sexy Pants?”

I look away from my sister and keep spooning leftover baked ziti into a container. We’re at my parents’ home for brunch. By all, I mean my whole family and the Hollingsworths. I’ve skipped brunch enough lately, there was no way I was getting out of it again without a doctor’s note proving someone was about to die.

“Yo. I’m talking to you,” Stephie bites under her breath and pokes me in the shoulder.

“Hey!” I grab my arm. “That’s where I had stitches. It’s still sensitive.”

She rolls her eyes. “How long are you going to play the ‘I got shot’ card? You’re fine. I want to know what’s up with you and Asa. You sat next to each other, he had his arm around you, you all spoke in the same conversations, but not once did either of you utter a word to one another. Hell, you two barely gave each other a glance.”

I shrug and look back to the food. “We broke up.”

Stephie doesn’t make a sound so I look over. She’s standing there with her hands on her hips and a blank expression on her face. “You broke up?”

I grimace. “Sort of. I mean, they’re still living with us and we seem to be carrying on as normal because Asa won’t have it any other way. But that’s it. I guess it’s his version of giving me space, which isn’t a lot of it.”

“Wait. You broke things off with him?” She’s flabbergasted—her eyes big and frowny. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You don’t get it.” I start throwing leftover salad into another bowl with violent tosses—carrot shavings going every which way. “Everything happened too fast. I need time to think—slow down. His idea of giving me what I want is carrying on without speaking to me. He won’t leave, Stephie. He’s even sleeping in my bed.”

“What in the world do you have to think about?” Her face hardens and her tone is harsh when she throws her arm out and points to the backyard where my parents and Aunt Lillian Rose are sitting on the deck watching everyone play lawn darts. “That man is out there putting up with our family for you. He’s the first man who’s spent quality time with your kids in two years. And I hate to point this out, but he’s also the man who’s sticking around, putting up with whatever this bullshit is you’re dishing out. Time? Space? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?”

My blood boils. She doesn’t get it and it’s not like I can explain that he’s some badass who doesn’t hesitate to go out into the night and ends up with over forty stitches as a party favor. I can’t explain how he’s used to dangerous work and doesn’t hesitate jumping headfirst into whatever drama is going down. And there’s been a lot of fucking drama.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lower my voice and throw my words back at her. “I’m trying to do what’s best, especially for Knox and Saylor. I don’t want them to lose anyone again—”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she interrupts. “You’re not afraid of anyone leaving you. Hell, you were fucking alone long before David died and practically had his bags packed. Don’t pretend you weren’t well on the road to divorce.”

I take a step back, crossing my arms. Trying to control my breathing, I shake my head and bite my lip. Stephie and I are direct and bitchy with one another, but not like this. This is a new low, even for her.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” She doesn’t stop, even when I don’t have a comeback. “Just because you had a shitty marriage once doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. It’s time to pull your head out of your ass and see what you’re missing out on before he gets sick of your shit and leaves.”

“Fuck you,” I whisper. This is why I wanted to skip brunch. I was crazy to think I could spend time with my family and Asa and not catch shit for something, but I never thought it would be like this.

She rolls her eyes. “So be it. Fuck you back.”

I grab my purse. I don’t care if I make a scene, I need to get out of here.

“You put on a good front,” she calls from behind me. “Making everyone think you’re a pillar of strength, but you’re nothing but a coward, Keelie Lockhart. You know it.” The last thing I hear before I slam the door is Stephie yelling, “It’s time to wake the fuck up.”

My chest tightens and I swallow over the lump in my throat to overcome it—but thank God, I do, because now I need an excuse as to why we’re leaving. I’ve never needed to escape so quickly, and I’ll be doing it with the crux of all my problems in tow.

*****

I’ve hit a new low. Not only am I ignoring Asa, but now I’ve lumped the other four people living under my roof into the mix.

We escaped my parents’ house with weird looks from everyone. My dad was confused while my mother looked hurt. Aunt Lillian Rose just sat there eating her Italian cream cake, shaking her head as we rushed away. My sister stood in the driveway with her arms crossed and a foot hitched—total bitch stance—and no doubt informed everyone what happened the second we drove off.

I was silent on the long drive home and let Asa do what he’s a rock star at—carrying on with life. He talked to his kids about their classes, informed Emma they were going to have a geometry study session that afternoon, and asked Knox and Saylor what they like to do during the summers.

This all led into him making all kinds of fun plans for the six of us come June. This created a deeper pit in my stomach and the minute he threw the Infiniti into park, I was out the door in record time. I’ve never needed to get away so badly. All the talk of family fun, traveling, and projects that did not include home improvements, would be any other woman’s wet dream, but today, for me, it was my kryptonite.

Anyone else would be riding the high of her wet dream like Miss America on this late Sunday afternoon with perfect weather, but not this gal. Nope. I dove right into a task I knew no one in their right mind would interrupt.

I cleaned showers.

All four of them. For hours. I pushed everything out of my mind and thought only about soap scum and how shower door crevices were created by the devil himself.

Because I’m that fucked up.

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