Page 12 of Let It Breathe
I’d only get married again if I could do it like that.
“Can’t say I blame you,” Larissa mused, still tracking with the original conversation. “Tying and untying the knot within a twelve-month span before you hit twenty-five would make anyone swear off marriage.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Reese set down a wineglass, not sure if she meant the marriage or the divorce.
“Did it? Getting married, I mean. I’ll never understand why you did it. You and Eric had zero chemistry.”
“You might have pointed that out before we walked down the aisle.”
Larissa shrugged and began to wipe down the counter with a rag. “I figured you knew. If you wanted to pledge eternal devotion to a guy who seemed more like your brother than your lover, who was I to tell you not to go through with it?”
Reese toweled off another glass and wondered for the millionth time why she had gone through with it.
Because you thought marriage was the ticket to happily ever after.
Because your parents made it look easy.
Because you needed to forget about him.
“Anyway, why do you care what your stupid ex says?” Larissa asked, jolting her back to the present.
“I don’t, I guess. I just thought if I was giving off a miserable vibe, I’d want to know.”
“I wouldn’t say miserable,” Larissa said, setting aside her rag to reach for the dried glasses. “But you haven’t changed much in the last decade. You should probably get laid more.”
Just then, Clay pushed through the door. He nodded at them. “Ladies.”
“Hey, Clay,” Larissa said, shooting Reese a knowing look before turning to walk the glasses back to the bar. “You’re looking good.”
“Thanks, Larissa—you, too. Reese, did you want to go over to the building site now?”
Reese nodded as she dried her hands and folded the towel over the edge of the counter. “Sure thing. Let me just?—”
The door burst open again, cutting off the rest of her sentence. Her mother stood there with flushed cheeks and a wild look in her eyes.
“Reese—come quickly! It’s your grandfather.”
Chapter 3
At the panicked sound in June’s voice, Clay yanked his cell phone from his back pocket. “Should I call 911?”
“No!” shouted the three women.
Clay froze, phone in hand, wondering if they’d all lost their minds.
June took a step forward, shaking her head. “No police. Please don’t make this worse than it is.”
“But if Albert—um, Axl—needs help?—”
“No one’s hurt,” June said. “Not yet anyway. Reese, come on, hurry.”
Reese moved to follow her mother out the door, and Larissa scurried after them, clearly not wanting to miss anything. Clay hesitated. No one seemed distressed in the way he might have expected if Axl were having a heart attack. Still, maybe they’d need help lifting him or something.
The whole family helped you out when you were at your worst. The least you can do is lend a hand now.
He fell into step behind them, though it was obvious they’d forgotten he was there.
They trudged up a grassy slope past several rows of spindly vines just beginning to sprout for the season. At the end of the rows stood a thick forest buzzing with insects. Clay remembered Eric telling him Reese nurtured certain bugs to keep the less desirable ones off the vines, and he wondered if that’s what he was hearing.
