Counterpoint (Hystoria #3)

15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Jake and I opt for a beer while Grandma and Layla share a bottle of red wine that Jake brought home from one of his tours. I think it’s from France, but I’m not knowledgeable enough when it comes to wine to know whether that’s good or bad. The alcohol manages to improve the mood quickly, and I soon find myself giggling over the dumb face my mother made, reminding me how quickly I get tipsy. It’s a curse.

“Seriously, we’re adults now. Did they think we’d let them walk all over us forever?” Jake says, accompanied by an exhausted sigh. “I’m just sorry you had to sit through that, Layla.”

“Oh, no worries,” she replies and smiles at us sweetly. “I’m just glad Harper gave them a piece of her mind before I got to it.” She holds her hand up for a high five, and I happily oblige .

“Right. Jake told me you’re good at holding your ground,” I tease her, and she giggles, hiding her red face behind one of her hands.

“Thank God I work freelance only now. Working with bosses is terrible.” Jake and I can’t help but nod along solemnly. Both of us haven’t been too lucky in that department either.

“Are customers that much better?” I ask her curiously.

“No, not at all,” she admits with a frown and shakes her head. “But if they behave like assholes, I can either drop them or never work with them again.” She grins at me. Doing the same sounds more and more appealing. Maybe I should keep that in the back of my mind for if my job search doesn’t work out.

“If you need help setting up a business, just let me know. I’ll be happy to help,” Layla assures me. What an angel.

“Thank you,” I tell her with a small smile, and I mean it wholeheartedly. It’s definitely a solid plan B, and if the job search proves as difficult as I imagine it, I might reach out to her for help.

“Now, here’s dessert,” Grandma announces, and I look around, confused. I didn’t even realise she got up, but she’s walking back into the living room with an apple pie in her oven glove-clad hands, setting it down in the middle of the table. “Here you go.”

She splits the pie into four and puts them on a dessert plate, handing them over to us one by one. “Dig in while it’s still warm!”

“Thank you, Elise.” Lalya smiles and does just that. A loud groan escapes her when she tastes it for the first time, and she quickly throws her hands over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.” Grandma and I chuckle, but Jake is turning beet red. “But this pie is very delicious.”

“I don’t think we’re the people you have to apologize to.” I chuckle as I watch Jake shift in his chair uncomfortably. “Remember, Jake, our rooms are right next to each other.”

“I know,” he replies, grinning mischievously while Layla’s face could compete with a fire hydrant. “We’ll be quiet. Ouch!”

I’m pretty sure Layla kicked his shin under the table. Did I mention I liked her?

“By the way, Layla, where are your dogs while you’re here? And how is my favorite niece?” I ask her, remembering the pictures she showed me at Jake’s party.

“Starshine is fantastic,” she gloats and retrieves her phone from her pocket. “They’re both with Keira, my best friend and neighbor, while we’re here. Her family doesn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving, so she’s staying at her place to throw a Friendsgiving and basically begged me to let her babysit them.”

“No wonder, they’re so cute,” I say dreamily. Layla swipes on her phone before she angles it for me to see the picture on her screen.

“They really are. Look at how much she’s grown!” My heart warms as she scrolls through her camera roll. I’m just enamored. I haven’t met Starshine and her sister Mochi, an adorable golden retriever, yet, but I’m sure she will be the most delightful creature I’ve ever encountered. She’s kind of Jake’s offspring, after all. Ew, that sounds gross.

I just hope she isn’t as much of a shithead as he is.

Grandma searches for her glasses, also eager to take a look. Within minutes, we are huddled around Layla’s phone, ooh-ing and aah-ing over pictures of Mochi and Starshine. In some, they’re wearing funny costumes, in others, they’re covered in mud, and the occasional regular one pops up as well. Every picture is more adorable than the one before.

“Okay, that’s it. Next time, you need to bring them,” Grandma decides, and Layla’s face lights up.

“Gladly. My heart hurts at leaving them behind, but I didn’t want to bring them unannounced.” Her voice sounds giddy, and I wonder if it’s because she looks forward to seeing her dogs again or the fact that Grandma invited her back.

“Jake, make sure to bring them, even if you have to get a private jet.” Grandma points her index finger at him, and he salutes his agreement. “Then Harper won’t have to chauffeur your friends here, either.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“And book it soon enough, so you won’t have to travel in an uncomfortable Lamborghini,” I can’t help but tease him, making him stick out his tongue at me. The adult that I am, I do the exact same thing.

“Good. Now excuse me, this old woman needs her beauty sleep,” Grandma says with a sigh and gets up. I check the clock and realise with a start that it’s already ten. Layla also excuses herself, citing their exhausting travel day as a reason to go to sleep early. Jake gives her a quick goodnight kiss and helps me tidy up. We bring all of the dishes to the kitchen, and I help him pack up any leftovers and store them in the fridge.

Jake pulls up imaginary sleeves, as he’s wearing a t-shirt, and gets ready to pay up his debt and clean all the dishes, so I grab my beer from the living room and hop on the counter to keep an eye on things. Will I point out imaginary spots he missed? Absolutely. Will I feel bad about it? Not one bit .

“So,” Jake starts as he dips his hands into the soapy water and takes the first plate, “I got a call from Si yesterday.”

“Oh, did you?” I raise my eyebrow curiously and take a swig of my beer. “Interesting. What did he tell you?”

“He was angry about being stranded at a service station, hours away from home.” My eyebrows remain high on my forehead, this time in the challenge, but he quickly reassures me, “Calm down, sis. I’m sure you’ve had your reasons. Just tell me if I need to kick his ass?”

“You don’t need to kick his ass,” I tell him and sigh, my forehead smoothing out. “He didn’t say anything worse than our egg and sperm donors did tonight.”

“What?” His head shoots up, and he looks at me, anger starting to form on his face like storm clouds. “Are you serious? That fucker, of course, he didn’t mention that. What did he say?”

“He called me indecisive and told me I rely on you too much in terms of money.” I clear my throat and shrug, tilting my head downwards to fiddle with the bottle tag. Did Simon make any other point? I try to remember what else he said, but I come up empty. So yeah, I think that sums it up pretty nicely. “Something along those lines, but it wasn’t a nice conversation. He was mean to me, I was mean to him, and then I kicked him out of my car at the next service station. Honestly, that’s farther than I thought I’d take him when we started the trip. I was about to kick him out three minutes into the ride,” I try to joke, but it goes over Jake’s head. My thoughts wander back to the first drive, and I grimace when I remember all of his complaints.

“Good. I’m proud of you for standing your ground,” Jake says quietly. I lift my head and look at him, surprised. We’re only two years apart, but sometimes he seems so much wiser and put together than me. It’s astounding.

“Thank you,” I tell him, a lump forming in my throat. Especially after this evening, hearing ‘I’m proud of you’ is making me all kinds of emotional. And he continues.

“You know there is no such thing as relying on me too much, right? You’re my sister, and I will always want to make sure that you’re taken care of,” he makes sure, waiting for me to nod. “Promise me you’ll always come to me when you have problems?”

“I promise,” I assure him with a thankful smile.

“Fuck Si,” he chuckles, putting his focus back on the task at hand.

“No, thank you. Been there, done that.” He almost lets the plate in his hand fall to the ground as he turns to me, his eyes wide and face pale. Only then do I realise what I’ve said. “Shit. You never heard that.” I look at him like a deer in headlights. Fuck. Damn alcohol and its ability to lose my tongue and make me speak without my brain acting as a filter.

“You did what?” he asks loudly, and I slap my hand on his mouth. He’s being too loud; the rest of the house doesn’t need to know as well.

“People are trying to sleep here. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to be angry at either of us.” I narrow my eyes at him until he finally nods. “Some hanky panky might have been going on during the trip. It just happened. One moment we were insulting each other, the next we-”

“Stop,” he interrupts me, pulling my hand away from his mouth. “I don’t want to hear any details. I can imagine.”

He grimaces when I raise my eyebrow. Oh, so he can imagine it? Interesting. Sweet Home Alabama starts playing in my head .

“Ew, not like that. I just don’t-” he takes a calming breath, “-need to hear any details.” He sighs. “It was consensual, though, right? You wanted it, he wanted it?”

“Of course,” I say confidently and nod. “He even apologized for his tactless comment when we were teens. You really don’t need to be angry with him. This is my battle to fight.”

“You’re angry at him, though. Why? Does it have to do with the ‘hanky panky?’” He uses air quotes for the last two words. They sound ridiculous coming out of his mouth.

“No, us fucking has nothing to do with it. We decided from the beginning that it was only going to be a temporary thing. I’m angry because he jumped to conclusions about me way too quickly.”

“About you?” he asks, now getting to the glasses. I nod and take a deep, calming breath.

“I thought we were getting along again. That’s why it stings. But since you’re the only link we have now, I’m just hoping we won’t run into each other again. And if we do, I’ll ignore him. Problem solved; you don’t need to get involved. Everything is fine.”

Jake sighs as he pushes the sponge into Grandma’s narrow glasses. “I guess that’s for the best. I hate to ask, but how did he seem to you?”

I narrow my eyes at him, slightly easing up when I see the worry in his eyes.

“He seemed stressed. Exhausted,” I recount. “I think he expects too much from himself. With Hystoria on a break, he’s kind of lost his purpose. He doesn’t want to go back on stage without you guys, and at the same time, he doesn’t want to let his fans down by doing nothing.”

“That makes sense,” he says and grabs the next pile of dishes. Even though it’s his lost bet, I decide to help out a bit and grab a towel, starting to dry the washed dishes I can reach from my position on the counter. “But why isn’t he telling us that?”

“Maybe it’s an ego thing,” I suggest with a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe he only tells something like that people whose vaginas he’s entered.” And mouth.

“Harper!” Jake exclaims, and I chuckle.

“I’m telling you this in confidence, though. Promise me you won’t give him shit about it?”

“I promise.” He holds up his hand to lock pinkies. When he lets go, his eyes wander out the window, and my eyes follow the direction when he nods toward it. Snow is falling outside, the fluffy flakes raining down in a flurry. We watch the spectacle in silence as he continues to pay up his debt.

After a while, he takes a break and gets another beer for himself, leaning against the counter beside me.

“Thank you,” I say softly and nudge his hip with my knee. “For everything. I’m really glad I could come here and try for a new start. And I don’t want you to think I take it for granted.”

“Of course,” he assures me. “It’s not even a question. And if you’re serious about wanting to start your own business, I’ll be right here throwing my money at you.” I chuckle at his promise. “Just tell me what you need.”

“That’s sweet.” I smile at him. “But I think I like having regular working hours and wages. More security.” And if there is one thing I need and want right now, it’s security.

“Understandable.” He nods, letting his gaze roam over the cupboards before his tone turns more serious. “Have you heard from him? ”

Without clarifying, I know he means Tom. I shake my head.

“Not a word. Communication is only happening through the lawyers,” I assure him, and he visibly relaxes, which reminds me that I still have to give Sabrina an answer. I completely forgot about that over the whole Simon drama.

“Good. That’s good.” Jake nods.

“I have nightmares of him, though.” It’s the first time I’ve admitted that out loud. It’s kind of freeing, taking an invisible weight off my chest now that it’s not a secret anymore. “I dream that he finds me. Rips the restraining order in half while laughing at me, getting closer and just as he is about to reach me, I wake up in a panic. I know they’re just dreams, but-”

“Valid fears,” he ends my sentence for me. “Do you want me to get you a bodyguard until the lawsuits are over?” I shake my head. No, I absolutely don’t want a bodyguard. Just thinking about someone following me around, always watching me, is enough to make an uncomfortable feeling spread in my stomach. I don’t want someone to shadow me twenty-four-seven. I’m glad to be out of the city and away from people; I don’t need a person glued to me now that I’m in Windmeadow.

“Right, I haven’t told you yet.” I take another swig of my beer. “My ex-employer wants to settle. Sabrina called me.” I tell him the number they’re offering, and Jake holds his hand up for a high-five. “Needless to say, I’m settling with them. Now, as for Tom… he also wants to settle.”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head. I almost laugh at how similar his reaction is to mine.

“That’s what I told Sabrina, but she also had some solid arguments to make me consider it,” I admit, taking out my phone and pulling up my chat with her. “She mentioned the chances of him going to jail are slim. I’ve slept on it, and I think I’ll have her send a counteroffer with all of my ‘best case’ demands and take it from there. I need this to be on his record, though, Jake.” I raise my head to look at him, finding nothing but understanding in his eyes. He reaches for my hand and holds it between his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll get it on his record. See if he’ll take the counteroffer, and if he doesn’t, let me know. I’ll pull some strings and throw money at some people,” he offers, and I shoot him a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” I lean my head against his shoulder. He might be a shithead sometimes, but overall I’m glad he’s my brother. I lift it again when he steps to the sink to finish the dishes.

“Now, back to the bodyguard question, Harper.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I don’t think he’d find it worth it to find me and then come all the way here. He’s never even managed to come here in the years we’ve been together, come to think of it.” Another red flag I chose to ignore like the idiot I was. “I’ll find a therapist as soon as I get a new job and my first paycheck. It’s going to be tough to work through this, but I’ll be fine.”

“The fuck you will,” he scolds me shooting me a stern look and flicking a bit of soapy water at me. “You’re looking for one tomorrow. I’ll send you the funds.”

“But I-”

“Shut up, Harper.” He leans his head back and lets out an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t manage to protect you from that asshole even though he seemed way off all those years; at least let me do this now.” I recoil and look at him with wide eyes.

“You feel guilty about that?”

“Of course I do,” he growls, directing his eyes at the dishes again. “He always gave me a weird side-eye. Looking back, I’m pretty sure he didn’t like that you could always be independent because I’m your safety net. I’d always be your way out, no matter how much he tried to isolate you. After I left your home that day, I read up on abuse tactics so I could be prepared in case he tried to win you back. It was eerie, Harper. He fit the description of abusers in the book to a T.”

I blink away the tears forming in my eyes. That’s so sweet that he read up on it. And so shocking that Tom is a textbook example.

“Well, getting back with him is definitely not happening. I just hope he hasn’t found a new victim yet.” That’s what I’m worried about the most. Jake is right; no matter how much and how intensely we fight, I know that if I ever have an emergency, I can count on him. But what if he finds a woman who doesn’t? If he wasn’t afraid to choke me in broad hallway light, I hate to think of what he’d do to someone behind closed doors. I shake my head. I can’t put that on my plate. The only thing I can do is move on in a way that will hopefully not cause regrets somewhere down the line.

“Which reminds me, though. Can you post the engagement ring and send it back to him once you’re back in the city? I don’t want to do it from here for obvious reasons.” I pat my pockets and fish it out of one of them.

He looks at it curiously, mischief written all over his face. “I mean, you could also keep it and throw it off a bridge. Or into a fire. Hell, have someone melt it and make something pretty out of it,” he suggests, reaching for the last dish to wash for this evening. I’m half tempted to get myself a glass for another beer just to tease him, but it’s getting late, and I think I’ll also go to bed soon.

“No matter what I’d do with it, it would always be tainted. And I think I like the gesture of giving it back to him more than throwing it away. That way, he can’t spin the story as ‘she ran off with an expensive ring’ and make me the villain, you know?”

“I don’t think it’s going to matter to him, though.”

“Well, it matters to me,” I point out and shove the ring at him. “Please?”

He eyes the ring for a while before he takes it and lets it slide into his own pocket. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll have it delivered to his workplace.”

“Don’t do it personally, please,” I ask of him and poke his shoulder. “I don’t need revenge. He’s not worth jail time. Promise me?”

“I promise,” he answers with a sigh, his shoulders falling. “Damn, I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind.” I roll my eyes. I’m sure ‘giving him a piece of mind’ would end with flying fists and him all over gossip magazines instead of Tom behind bars.

“Karma will deal with him, hopefully. And your lawyers. That’s enough for me.”

“Well, not for me. I want to kick his schmuck face and give him a swift kick to his balls. May he never reproduce,” he says darkly, and I find myself nodding. That’s what I figured.

“That would indeed be better for humanity.” A small smile appears on my lips. “Speaking of dickheads. Are you serious about cutting off our egg and sperm donors completely?” I really hope he says ‘yes’.

“I always told myself I could deal with them the few times I see them,” he says quietly, handing me the last wet dish to dry. “That maybe someday they’d come around, especially now that we’re adults. When we were younger, I always wondered if they’re just not good with children.” He shakes his head. “Obviously, they proved me wrong. And you heard them. The way they’re talking to us is just not acceptable. I wouldn’t tolerate it from anyone else, and at some point, blood relation is just not enough of an excuse anymore.” He takes a deep breath.

“And now there’s Layla,” I point out, and he nods.

“Now there’s Layla,” he repeats. “We’re somewhat used to their dismissiveness, but I won’t ask Layla to be okay with it. And as I thought that, I wondered why I am so okay with it.” Another deep sigh. “I’m just glad that Grandma is on board as well. It would have sucked to exclude or plan around her if she’d continue to invite our parents to holidays.”

“Absolutely.” I set down the dried plate. “When she told me yesterday that they announced their presence, she looked like someone pulled a tooth. If this evening hadn’t ended this way, I probably would have talked to her about it.”

“Well, good thing the trash almost took itself out.”

“Almost. I mean, Grandma and I basically kicked it out,” I chuckle.

“Let’s just be happy the bag didn’t tear and leave a smelly trace.” I laugh; the analogy is really going too far now. “Speaking of-” He takes out his phone, his fingers tapping over the screen before he holds it up for me to see. “Ta-dah. Blocked and deleted.”

“Good idea,” I tell him and do the same. Even though I’ve decided long ago that fighting for them is not worth it anymore, for a split second, I find myself hesitating. Then I take a deep breath and press the few buttons it takes to block them, then delete their contact details, just like Jake did. I look at my screen, breathing heavily as though I just ran up some stairs. An indescribable mix of sadness and joy washes over me.

“It feels freeing,” I admit. It’s a weird feeling.

“Right?” Jake grins and nods toward the living room. I follow him there and take a seat on the couch while he lounges in Grandma’s comfy armchair that we can only sit in when she’s asleep unless we want a scolding.

“So, back to Si. Do I need to smack him?”

“Not for me, no. But if you have the general urge to do it, who am I to stop you?” I chuckle. “Seriously. I’m fine. It sucked for a bit, but in the end, I’d rather hear it now than befriend him again and hear him say it months or years down the line like last time.” One drunken evening, I think it was also Thanksgiving, I’d told Jake everything about my crush. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…”

“I get it,” he admits. “I’m still mad he let out his anger on you.”

“Oh, same,” I point out. “I’m mad. I’m so mad it’s driving me fucking crazy. But I have bigger problems that need my focus right now.”

And with that, I excuse myself and go upstairs. This day was way more emotional than it had any right to be. Exhausted, I fall onto my bed, and again, I manage to fall asleep quickly.