Page 34 of This Life and All the Rest
I clamp my eyes shut against the emotions, the sudden burst of lust and longing, and keep my attention off Macon.
The entire kitchen is silent, even Evelyn, and the awkward tension is palpable.
That’s what’s so fucked about our family dynamic. Anyone else would clearly see this as a playful dig between stepsiblings. But with us? There’s so much muddy water that everything is cloudy.
The silence in the room stretches, and I don’t take my eyes off Evie. Then a phone chimes, and I see Macon move in my peripheral.
“Shit,” he says, “I gotta go. I forgot I was supposed to meet Nicolette.”
I feel my head jerk in attention, and my eyes shoot to Macon involuntarily. Andrea hugs him goodbye and tells him to “tell her hello,” then he walks next to me and bends to kiss Evie on the head.
“See you tomorrow, Squirt,” he says to her with a smile, dodging her grubby hands before she can pat his cheeks. He looks at me, and the smile is gone.
“Bye,” he says. I nod and avert my eyes.
“Goodbye.”
TWELVE
I spendthe day at the hospital in the ICU waiting room.
Waiting.
Macon is at the house with Evie all day, so Andrea can stay in the room with Dad. It upsets me a little, but when Dad wakes up, Andrea should be the first person he sees.
I keep myself busy by reading and sketching out ideas for my next painting. I know that it’s unlikely Dad will wake up today. The doctor said it could be days. But I’ve spent so much time with entire oceans between my dad and me that just a few hospital walls feel like a huge improvement. And this way, when he does wake up, I’m seconds away instead of days.
Sam calls me when she gets off work around eight. We chat for a while, and she scolds me for not eating today, then threatens to order me food and have it delivered to the ICU waiting room. When I hang up with Sam, the sound of the double doors buzzing makes me jolt straight up to my feet.
Andrea comes walking through, her smile forced and her eyes tired.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hey,” I say back, shoving my phone in my bag. “Any news?”
She shakes her head slowly and adjusts the purse strap on her shoulder.
“I’m actually going to head back. Relieve Macon of baby duty and sleep in my own bed. The nurses will call me if Trent wakes up.”
“Okay.” I cover my mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’ll come too, then. I’m hungry, anyway.”
I follow Andrea out of the hospital and to the parking lot, then trail her in my rental. By the time we pull up to the house, all I can think about is eating something and passing out. I’m a few yards behind Andrea when she walks into the house, leaving the front door wide open for me.
I’m half dazed, so I don’t pick up immediately on the strange, muffled conversation as I kick off my shoes and walk toward the kitchen. It gets louder, though, and I recognize the voices seconds before the situation unfolds in front of me.
Macon is angry and arguing with someone. His shoulders are tense and he’s pointing while whispering heatedly with...
Claire.
I recognize her profile immediately, and my hackles rise. I haven’t seen Claire in over four years. I’ve avoided her just as much as I’ve avoided Macon. I’ve gone back and forth during that time over which Davis sibling I hate more.
She looks the same, but more grown. She was always fashionable, but even I’m impressed with how “perfect” she looks. She’s tamed her curls into magazine-cover quality ringlets. Her skin looks flawless, almost airbrushed. Her dress slacks and soft blue blouse are both sexy and chic. She’s even wearing a pair of nude pumps.
She looks good, and it pisses me off.
I knew Claire would be coming back at some point in the next few days. I’m surprised I haven’t had to see her sooner but fuck if I don’t feel like I’m walking into a goddamn ambush.
I’m hungry. I’m tired. I haven’t prepared for this shit.
