Page 21 of Double Trouble

Dem looks up at me, terror in her eyes. Gosh, she’s probably confused as hell to see the place how it is. Not a speck of dust, not a piece of clothing or garbage on the floor, candles lit to give our once home an apple cinnamon scent.

Pete nudges us inside, using his height and build to his advantage.

“Hey,” he says, his demeanor much calmer. “Where’s Dad?”

“In our room. He’ll be out in a second.” Mom gestures to the table. “Sit. I’m just pulling out the enchiladas.”

Dem’s favorite. She tenses next to me, and I brush a hand through her ponytail. She bats me away, and I figure I’ll have to find a different way to comfort her.

I slump into the seat next to the window, across from Pete and next to Demi. Dad’s most likely trying to wash away the effects of whatever drug he’s hooked on while Mom continues to live in denial.

I eye Pete, his elbows on the table, half his face covered by his hands. He peeks out to offer up an encouraging smile, and I try to relax. He knows I hate it here. He knows because he feels it too… that pending doom of “what are they going to ask for now?” Mom and Dad never invite us over for a simple how do you do. It’s more of a what can you do for me.

A sick taste jumps up to the back of my throat. Maybe they found out Pete is marrying into money. If they ask Candace for anything, I will cut them off once and for all.

Demi keeps her head down, her finger tracing the pattern on our mom’s plate. Her eyes dart to mine then quickly run away when she sees me looking. I’d take her hand, pat her knee… do something if I was sure she wanted that, but with how moody she’s been, I have no idea how to respond.

The door down the hall creeks open just as Mom puts the hot pan of enchiladas in the center of the table. Dad’s heavy footstep thud until his tall, lean form fills the arch leading into the dining area. He used to be nearly two-hundred-and-fifty pounds before his accident. Now I’m afraid to even take a guess. I probably have more muscle, and Pete definitely has more fat, and Pete isn’t that large.

“Hi kids,” he says, his voice crackled and aged. It’s so unfamiliar that I have to adjust to the sound.

Pete says, “Hey.” His voice more chipper than usual for Mom and Dad’s house. Dem squeaks out a “hi” and I simply wave.

He takes his spot at the head, even though he looks out of place there. Dad’s never been the head of the house. More like the moocher.

Mom sits next to Pete, setting down a bowl of corn and a bowl of tostada chips. She grins wide and takes a deep breath. “Dig in.”

Dad reaches over right away, but it takes me a minute to pluck my arm up and serve myself something. When I see Demi not moving at all, I get her something of each and pray she doesn’t bite my head off later for playing mommy.

Pete, however, doesn’t touch a thing, bringing his hands down and looking directly at my dad. “We should probably just dive in, yeah?”

Dad chuckles, pouring some water into his glass. “Go for it, PJ.”

What the hell? My eyes narrow at my brother, and he turns to address the entire table.He’sbehind this little meeting?

“Well, you all know I’m getting married in February.”

Mom smiles and pats his knee, pride oozing out from her in waves. The cynic in me whispers that she’s only proud because he’s marrying a millionaire, but I try to bat her away.

“Candace and I are talking about where we’re going to live.”

I nod, straightening in my seat. Okay, we’re going to talk about the game plan. After boarding, I feel good about what I have in store. I’m going to get this routine down. I will get this sponsorship. With Dem’s new schedule for middle school, she can walk to the ranch and do her homework in the farm offices while I’m still working there. When boarding becomes fulltime, I’ll be able to afford a sitter for when I’m gone or, if she wants, she can go on the road with me.

I mapped out all our finances, and I can make it work without Pete’s help. I know he’d help if I asked, but I feel like I can’t do that to him after he moves out and starts his own family with Candace.

Dad straightens too, and I watch him and Pete share a look before Pete’s eyes skate past me and land on Dem. A wave of confusion and fear wash over me, and I’m unsure where it comes from. Something feels off, though.

“Dem, I would offer for you to come with us…”

Demi’s head shoots up, and her fork clatters against the plate. “No,” she sputters. Relief flows through me. I can’t lose both of them. I didn’t even think Pete would offer. “No…” she says softer. “You guys are going to be married and… sharing a room.” She wrinkles her nose, and I let out a laugh that’s much louder than I would’ve given the circumstances. I’m just so relieved she’s staying with me.

Pete quirks a grin and runs a hand over his jaw. “Okay… that option’s out.” His eyes meet mine, and an apology rests there in his light brown irises. My brows pull together, and that same panic I thought I’d gotten rid of comes back with a vengeance.

“Next option… Well, that’s where you guys come in.”

Pete avoids my eyes and looks directly at Mom and Dad. I jerk back, my heart pounding underneath my Chewbacca t-shirt. My fingers curl around my fork, my knuckles turning a scary shade of white.

Dad cautiously looks toward Demi. She’s still eyeing her plate, the tines on her fork creating patterns in the green enchilada sauce. “Of course, we’d love for Demi to move back home.”

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