67. king
CHAPTER 67
KING
SOMETHING DIFFERENT TONIGHT
By the time the food came, the clay mask crap was done, and Jasmine was bouncing off the walls, ready for churros. My mom kept trying to talk to me while I divided up the plates.
"Thank you, " Jasmine sang.
"It’s not done." I grabbed the little container of chocolate sauce and nudged it over. "Toppings for the churros."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you?—"
"Hold on, there’s whipped cream in the fridge."
I knew she’d eat real food while we watched the movie, so I wasn’t worried about her only jumping into sugar. I shook the whipped cream can while Jasmine squealed.
"Does Boxer get whipped cream?" Willow teased as the huge dog did his little dance by the door frame.
I rolled my eyes. "He’s looking for attention."
When I was finished, Willow picked up Jasmine’s plate and walked back into the living room. Jasmine hurried after her, yelling ‘I love you’ over her shoulder.
To me.
I stopped, whipped cream still in hand.
"I don’t think you realize the gravity of this," my mom sighed from the kitchen chair.
"Did you hear Jasmine?" I asked. "She said she loves me."
"King. You know Lawson’s been waiting for Willow to come to Houston. He’s trying to build this relationship with her and if you’re taking that away from him?—"
"When’s the last time Jasmine told me she loves me?"
"What?" She paused. "Tuesday. On the phone."
"When’s the last time she told me she loves me, and you didn’t have to tell her to say it?"
My mom didn’t answer. I honestly couldn’t think of the last time. I tried and I really couldn’t.
It wasn’t like my little sister didn’t love me, I just couldn’t remember a time when I was over and the two of us weren’t snapping at each other or she wasn’t melting down, stomping everywhere, and screaming at me.
My mom started to reply but she fell silent with the soft footsteps And Willow, with an uncomfortable look on her face. She flashed a pack of cigarettes, half-full. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I found them in the cushions and I didn’t want Jasmine to get them."
She went back to the couch, the silence was deafening.
I gazed down at the cigarettes.
My mom took a deep breath. "I know what it looks like?—"
"Can we do something different tonight?" I interrupted and slipped them in my pocket, knowing I’d have to toss them at the hospital. "Can we pretend that we’re over for a movie and that’s it? I’ll take you in when you have to go but we don’t argue? We don’t have to do it. We can pretend like I didn’t see it."
"King…"
"I’m asking for one night, Mom."
"I love you," she said, her voice tired.
"I know. I love you too." I finished putting away the leftovers and offered a hand to help her up. "Just one night. I just want one."
Back in the living room, my mom sat in her chair, and I grabbed a blanket for her before Willow patted the place on the pull-out couch. She left a seat for me. It felt so good to see that and I slipped in with them, wrapping an arm around Willow’s shoulders.
My mom watched us, her lips pressed tight, but I didn’t care. I rubbed Willow’s arm with my thumb and pulled her close while Jasmine sat in her lap.
" Daddy Daycare, right?" I asked.
"Mm-hmm. Birthday girl’s wishes." Willow leaned against me. "My brothers love Steven Zahn—that guy right there. He’s in Planet of the Apes ? — "
"You have brothers?" Jasmine whispered.
"Yep. Twins." Her laugh was low. "It’s in our genes. My mom’s a twin and her mom—my grandma—had two sets of twins in her family."
My mom chuckled, her voice hoarse. "It’s like a printer family. Copy and paste."
"I’ll send that to the family group chat," Willow giggled.
For a moment, my eyes flickered to my mom, and she hesitated, flustered, before she added again. "We don’t have twins, but Jasmine is a spitting image of me."
"What’s a spit image?" Jasmine mumbled, eyes glued to the TV.
I ruffled her hair. "Means you look like her."
"Like how you look like dad?"
My words died. It was pretty noticeable, but her comment took me off-guard. I shifted on the couch, uncomfortable. "Yeah. Like dad."
It wasn’t like she was wrong. With some of the pictures my mom kept for some reason, the only way to tell our photos apart was the date scrawled on the bottom. Later, my scars were the big difference, but everything else, uncannily similar.
It was hard not to be bitter about it.
"This isn't going to work," Willow whispered and touched my leg.
I frowned. "What are you doing?"
"My back’s cold."
With three words, Willow slipped into the space between my legs and leaned against my chest. She welcomed Jasmine over too and then it was both of my girls, sitting with me.
She caught my discomfort and wanted to make me feel better.
I gazed down at her, speechless.
Suddenly, I really didn’t give a damn about Jasmine catching on. She was busy watching the movie.
I cupped Willow’s jaw and pressed her against me with a kiss to her temple, holding her close in any way I could. To show her I saw what she was doing and how much it fucking meant to me.
My heart pounded in my chest. I was sure she could feel it. "You’re my favorite."
"You’re mine too," she whispered.
The night wasn’t much but it was the best night I ever had in the house. We almost made it to the end credits before we had to leave.
"You really don’t have to do this," my mom tried to tell Willow.
"I watched over my brothers all the time, it’s not a problem."
With my mom’s overnight bag and my keys, I helped her to the door where I found Jasmine, arms crossed over her chest.
"I don’t want to go, I have a human right?—"
"You’re not going, Jazz."
Confused, Jasmine followed us outside, Willow right behind her. Most of the time, I couldn’t get my little sister out of the house without her screeching at me, but now she trailed behind as I opened the driver’s door.
"I’m not ready to go," she blurted out.
"You’re not going, I told you."
"But—I?—"
Willow touched her shoulder. "We’re staying back and watching another movie."
"But I’m supposed to go?"
I hesitated. "If it was important, I’d take you, right? But it’s not. It’s a quick visit. No point to you coming. You have to stay back and make sure Willow’s okay."
"Oh."
"Yep." Willow nodded. "I can’t cook, I might burn the place down. You have to keep me out of the kitchen."
I grinned but Jasmine didn’t. She stared up at me, wide-eyed, and kept staring as I closed the door behind me. Slowly, Jasmine rested against Willow’s thigh, watching us as we drove off.
In the rearview mirror, I could see Willow nudge her back to the door before she held out her hand. Jasmine took it, following her inside.