Page 44 of Missed Sunrise
There were quite a few square frames with Polaroids of Vinh as a baby, the orange date stamp giving away which Lott child it was, but there were even more of Liem.
I had never seen any of my baby photos. I wasn’t even sure they existed.
The older, aged photos of Cara and Monny Lott in their youth made me almost smile, especially when I realized how much Liem and his mother favored each other when she was younger. There were photos from what appeared to be a courthousewedding, and if I looked closely enough, I could probably find one picture from each year of childhood for both Vinh and Liem.
I took a few more steps along the photo wall, and then I saw Liem—real, live, andhereLiem. My breathing malfunctioned as I took him in, and then it stopped altogether.
He was sitting at the small, square kitchen table with his back to me, his slender biceps flexing as he worked the long side of his hair into a braid. His black tank top had armholes that were so big, I could see all the way down his bare sides, the ladder of his ribs shadowed and so….
My feet carried me closer, my eyes transfixed. He took deep, controlled breaths as his tattooed fingers deftly worked his dark strands.
My shoe squeaked on the linoleum, and he turned his head with a start. “Heavens!” he gasped as his hands fell away, and the braid that had been nearly finished slowly unraveled.
Grimacing, I met his wide eyes. “Sorry, LL. I creeped.”
He smiled in response and threaded his hand into his hair and combed through the pieces that were still overlapped. “It’s quite all right, Dezi.” He brushed his hair back and gave me a rueful grin. “I don’t even have a hair tie, so it wasn’t meant to last.”
God, his voice. It was like a magical, aural muscle relaxant, melting away the ill feelings I’d carried inside with me.
“Oh, well, I have one,” I said quietly as I worked the thin dark-blue elastic off my wrist. It took a minute, as it’d gotten wrapped up in one of my other bracelets, but he just waited patiently as I extricated it and then held it out to him. “I forget sometimes that I don’t have hair anymore.”
He took the tie with a sweet smile and slid it easily onto his wrist. “Have the crawfish sung their funeral song?”
I huffed a laugh and smiled in amusement. “If you’re asking if they’re done cooking, then yeah. They have. I’m not sure I knew that you were vegetarian?”
He tucked his hair behind his ear. “Hmmm. I guess I am. I haven’t had meat since we moved here.” His brown eyes grew distant for a beat, and then he laughed, smiling wryly after it faded. “You and my brother noticed before I did. He cooked me a separate dinner before we drove over here.” Liem stood up and walked to the fridge door. He pulled out a glass Tupperware dish, shaking his head as he examined it. “I have no idea why I didn’t question him when he told me about it.”
He meandered to the microwave and started heating his food, and my gaze was stuck on him as I replied, “Maybe you’re just programmed to not question food from someone who is basically a professional chef?”
Liem hummed as he turned and leaned against the counter, meeting my gaze and catching me in the act of ogling him. “I think you’re right.”
When he sat back at the table with his bowl of steaming, colorful pasta, I continued watching him intently and asked him bluntly, “What were you thinking about so hard when I came in here?”
He nudged the pasta with his fork. “Aunt Ari wants me to come stay in Gulf Shores with her for a couple of weeks. Maybe longer.”
My stomach fell through the linoleum at his instant and easy honesty. I must have reacted some kind of way, because Liem, candid and keen as ever, paused, studying me. “You don’t like that idea.”
I blew out a breath and ran my hand over the bristly part of my hair and hedged, “I didn’t say that.”
He raised his eyebrow at me. “Your face did. It says quite a lot, Dezi. Just as my brother’s does.”
The door creaked open, followed by Monny grumbling under his breath. Liem started to rise to go help him, but I gripped his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat before hurrying over.
“Mr. Lott,” I greeted as I slipped past him and held the door open with one hand while helping him through the last bit of the doorway with the other.
“Ahh, thanks for that, kid. And please, call me Monny.” As he rolled past Liem, he clapped him on the back and asked, “You good in here?”
Liem smiled at him. “I am.”
“Good, good…,” Monny said absently. “Well, I think I’m calling it. You kids have fun tonight.”
We were silent for a long moment after he disappeared down the hallway, and then I glanced at Liem, my hand twitching at his expression. I wanted to erase the frown lines that now bracketed his mouth, but I had no idea how to. He got up and put his leftovers in the fridge—he hadn’t eaten much at all—and turned back to me, his eyes going distant again, just as his dad’s had been.
“Is everything okay with him?” I asked quietly.
He sighed and twisted my elastic on his wrist. “He’s in a bit of downswing right now,” he explained as he gazed at me, his dark-brown eyes solemn and his voice quiet. “He takes a lot of medication, but I’m not sure if that causes the mood changes or if he was already prone to them.”
We shared a grim look, and my heart hurt for his obvious pain.
