Page 36 of Betsy
“Careful. You’re letting your cynicism show.”
I schooled my face, adopting a bland expression.
“It’s okay. I can tell you’re not sure if you should believe me.”
“It’s just that…” I paused. Then paused again. Was I really stopping to consider my words and how they would make Asher feel? That didn’t sound like me at all. “It’s just that people like you have a knack of knowing what those around them want to hear and then saying it.”
“People like me,” he murmured. “You know, there really isn’t aweor anus. It’s just anIor ame. I know you think all musicians are the same, but that would be similar to starting a sentence with all immigrants are…fill in the blank. Which I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t stand for. That’s the problem with generalizations, stereotypes, and exclusions.” He maintained steady eye contact, his voice warm but lacking any burning heat.
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to go back and try to get some sleep.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode back to the bus.
I pulled the collar of Asher’s jacket closed at the base of my throat, a chill working its way down my spine. A coyote howled in the distance.
I tried to bury the thought rising in my mind, but it clawed its way to the surface.
Could Asher be right?
14
Asher
Dawn broke over the horizon, the early morning light bathing the distant barren hills in pastel hues of pinks and purples like an Easter egg in spring. A chill still nipped in the air, the sun not having risen enough to chase it away with its celestial broom and make room for waves of warmth to take its place. The hairs on my arms stood up, my skin pebbling against the crisp temps. Betsy still had my jacket, so I didn’t have much defense against the morning air.
I pictured her as she’d looked last night, the sheepskin collar high around the back of her neck, the white wool caressing her jawline. It was such a cliché guy thing to think—that she looked good in my clothes. But she had. More than that, she’d looked…right. Natural. As if being embraced and enveloped in something of mine was how it wassupposedto be. Maybe one day, if she ever trusted me enough to let me get close, I could be the one to fight off the cold for her as we stood under the stars. I could be the one holding her in my arms, sharing my body heat. Sharing, perhaps, even my heart.
I blew hot air into the palms of my hands and rubbed them together before I took my cell phone out of my pocket. That was the whole reason I’d left the warmth of the bus to brave the elements—to call Aaron, not reminisce about Betsy. I wanted to make sure both he and the woman he’d taken over to Mother’s house the night before had survived. If I was the Cheshire Cat, as Betsy had accused under Orion’s watchful gaze, then my mother was the Queen of Hearts. She’d never uttered the phraseOff with their heads!but she’d made plenty of heads roll in her lifetime, both in business and her personal life. Just because we were her sons did not make us safe. If anything, it placed an even bigger target on our backs.
The phone rang, and I stomped my feet to warm them up. In the distance, the sound of a zipper broke through the silence. We’d found a secluded camping site, so it was easy to forget that we weren’t alone here among the rocky outcroppings. A gray hare with long ears hopped from behind a boulder, stopped, and sniffed the air, its little nose twitching.
A click emanated from the phone before my brother’s voice came onto the line. “I’ve got ten minutes to down my second cup of coffee and an egg bite I microwaved that now tastes like rubber before I have to log in and start on my morning emails, so make it quick.”
To anyone else, Aaron might sound brusque, but I smiled at the way he cut to the chase. If he’d answered the phone with aGood morning. How are you today?I’d know he was mad at me for some reason. He reserved that tone for clients, Mother, and anyone who’d managed to get on his bad side.
“How’d it go last night?” I asked.
“You know,” he said, surprise in his voice, “pretty well, actually.”
“Really? I expected it to end in tears. Yours, to be exact.”
“I think you’re confusing me with you, but, yeah. Tori and Mother actually seemed to hit it off.”
There were things he wasn’t saying. Questions behind the statements.
“Is that freaking you out?” Aaron couldn’t see me, so I didn’t even hide my smile, although I was sure he could hear my amusement in my tone.
“Kind of,” he admitted, muffled sounds coming through in the background, like the cuffs of his sleeves rubbing his starched collar as he massaged the back of his neck. “I mean, I really like Tori. She’s smart, kind, funny, and drop-dead gorgeous.”
“But?”
“But…” He dropped his volume. “But I can’t stop thinking there must be something wrong with her for Mom to approve, you know?”
I hummed in response. No one but the two of us would probably understand just how impossible gaining Cynthia North’s approval was. I’d given up a long time ago, although I couldn’t say I didn’t feel any hurt over not receiving her unconditional love. It was like having a sprained toe. You could still walk, run, do whatever you wanted to do, but not without a certain ache that you eventually learned to live with until it just became your new normal.
“And get this.” He gave a disbelieving chuckle. “When we were about to head out the door, she pulled me aside and told me she was proud of me.”
“Wow.” I didn’t think our mother even knew those words existed in the English language. “Is she dying?”
Aaron barked a laugh. “How bad is it that my first thought was exactly the same?” He sobered. “But I have to admit, it was really…” He trailed off as if he couldn’t put his feelings into words. As if they were too big to be contained by twenty-six letters of the alphabet.
