Page 59 of Worse Than Wicked
She hesitates. “Why do you ask?”
“I just want to know,” I say. “If you had to pick one of us, who would you choose?”
“I don’t have to pick,” she says. “That’s the agreement.”
“What if you did?”
“I wouldn’t be happy.”
I sigh. “You like us exactly the same amount?”
“If I had to,” she says slowly. “I’d choose you. Of course I would.”
“Why?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. She has to be lying. No one likes me more than Baron. He’s the special one, even more special than Royal. He was always the favorite.
Mabel smiles and touches my arm. “Baron would be upset, but he’d be okay.”
She turns and walks into the house before I can answer.
I pull out my smokes and light one.
Baron would be okay.That means she’d only choose me because she doesn’t think I would be. Because I need her, and she has to take care of me. That’s what they both think. That I couldn’t make it on my own.
After tossing my cigarette butt in the gravel, I stomp into the house, where I hear voices in the kitchen. When I step through the door, I find them in the breakfast nook.
“Where’s Mabel?” I demand, looking around for her.
“She went up to look at the nursery with Devlin,” Crystal says, scooting down to make room. “She said she wanted to talk to him about their grandpa. Have you eaten?”
Maybe she’ll see the nursery and change her mind about kids, and I’ll have something to look forward to.
“I’m not hungry,” I mutter.
“It’s my birthday,” Olive says, picking up a glittery, plastic wand with streamers on the end. “That means it’s Everything Day.”
“Shit,” I say. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gotten you something.”
Harper gives me a funny look. “I texted you last week.”
Of course she did. But I was high when I read the text, and I didn’t remember it until now, when she says it, and I have a vague memory of opening my phone and seeing her message.
“Well, happy birthday,” I say to Olive, trying to smile and look like everything is normal and I didn’t fuck up as usual. “What’s that thing? Are you a fairy or something?”
I meant it as a joke, but I hear my father’s words echoing in mine, the accusatory tone. I’m sure he said those exact words to me a few times.
“Some kid at the park gave it to me,” she says, waving the wand around, so the silver streamers flutter and the baby on Crystal’s lap reaches for it. “Isn’t it dumb?”
She grins, so big I notice she’s missing a molar, but I’m not sure if I’ve seen it before, so I don’t comment. After my fuck-up with her birthday, I don’t want her to think I don’t care, that I don’t listen to her when she’s yapping or notice when she loses a tooth. I also don’t want Harper or Royal to realize that I’ve been high around her. They probably wouldn’t like that.
“Sit down, have a bagel,” Royal says, nodding to the platter in the center of the table.
I sit.
“They’re everything bagels,” Olive says. “Because it’s Everything Day. Crystal says parties should have themes, so that’s our theme. Do you like it?”
“Who doesn’t like everything?”
“Right?” she says, biting into her bagel and then squirming in her chair as she chews, trying to finish so she can talk more. She barely swallows before she goes on. “When we went to New York, Royal found out I’d never had a bagel before, so he drove us all the way into the city to get one. He said he knew the best bagel shop. We got all the bagels so I could try them.”
