20. Landry
CHAPTER 20
landry
I throw back another glass of champagne while I watch my baby sister’s first dance with her husband. They’d shown up late to their own wedding reception just now, both of them wearing smug expressions that could only mean one thing. I may have a hard time reading people, but it was pretty obvious that they’d managed to sneak in some “marital activities.” And if it wasn’t enough that I had to pretend not to notice, Blake’s brother made sure we all knew exactly what took them so long to get here with the corny and inappropriate jokes he cracked during his wedding toast.
I’d say I should have been the one making that toast, but the truth is that I’m not capable of delivering a speech that manages to make everyone laugh and cry within the same sitting. And even if I were, I’d never do it as well as JD.
My eyes search the room until I find my mom again. She’s sipping what I hope is the plain Coke I secured for her a while ago. She’s spent the last eight years completely sober, to the best of my knowledge, but I’m still going to have to watch her all night. She and Tenley’s mom are on babysitting duty, which I’m hoping will keep her occupied.
I’m still concerned about the twins being around all these people and their germs with their compromised preemie immune systems, though.
And I can’t help but worry about Tenley and JD’s baby boy being out here in the same cesspool, too. He is one of my patients.
Then there’s Daisy. I also have to make sure she’s safe and seizure-free.
I sigh, thinking I might need another drink.
“You gonna be okay, Lan?” I hear my older sister ask as she sits across from me at the empty table I’ve been occupying.
“Yeah,” I reply shortly. “Just trying to let all this sink in.”
It’s a lie, though. I’m over the whole “allegedly reformed player marrying my sister” part. I’m honestly not even sure why I’m angry at this point.
Lilley chuckles. “Good, because it’s a little late to object now,” she says, gesturing to the dance floor.
Blake is leaning down to whisper something into Loren’s ear as they continue dancing to Hoobastank’s “The Reason,” which seems nauseatingly cheesy now that I think about it, and she smiles and flutters her eyes before she turns to lay her head on his chest. Then I notice that her feet aren’t even touching the ground anymore. He’s holding her up while he sways and turns them in a circle. And she’s just … letting him.
It’s been so hard to wrap my mind around this version of her, of them together. But even I can’t deny that she looks happy.
I don’t even think I’m upset anymore.
I want to be happy for Loren. I want to give in to that warmth creeping into my chest. I want to let go of the resentment and smile and celebrate with my family. I want to be friends with my sister again. I want her and Blake to know I love and support them, and I want them to enjoy my company.
But why do I still feel like shit? Why can’t I stop brooding and lashing out all the time?
I huff and reach across the table to snatch a half-emptied glass of champagne and knock it back in one gulp. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I ask after a while.
“She’s a grown woman, Landry,” Lilley reminds me with a smile. “She’s a mama with her own family to care for and a husband who’s more than happy to take care of her. You’re off the hook … not that she was ever your responsibility in the first place.”
“Sure, she wasn’t,” I mutter under my breath.
Lilley sighs. “I’m sorry you felt that way. But you chose to?—”
“Someone had to do it,” I cut her off.
I catch the way she winces before she presses her lips into a hard line. “It wasn’t your job.” Then she pauses and reaches out to brush her hand over mine. “You did it well, though. Be proud of yourself. Of Loren.”
“I am proud of her. She’s a good mom.” I clear my throat awkwardly before adding, “And so are you, Lil.”
She tugs her hand back. “Wow. That sounded painful.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
“It just seems like the things that bring everyone else joy make you miserable instead,” she mumbles, shaking her head.
I nod silently before I spot another glass left unattended. I take a sip before starting again. “Well, I’m doing my best. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I just want to see you happy,” she says quietly. “We all do.”
I scoff and drain the rest of the glass. “Is this an intervention or something?”
“Maybe,” she replies.
“Look, I’m trying to be nicer. I really am. It’s just … I usually have a lot on my mind, and I get frustrated when the people I’m trying to protect work against me.”
She shakes her head and regards me, a mixture of pity and concern lining her expression. “Landry, don’t take this the wrong way, but have you thought about getting help?”
“What do you mean, help ?”
“Therapy? You know, get some techniques for managing those feelings so they don’t eat away at you. It’s never too late for you to learn more about yourself. Maybe there’s more to it than just the ADHD stuff. And who knows, you might feel better once you get a diagnosis and figure out how to work with your brain instead of fighting it.”
“Oh, so there’s something wrong with me now?” I shoot her a wry smile.
She glares at me. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“And you don’t think I recognize there’s more than ADD going on up here?” I retort, gesturing to my head. “I’m a doctor, too.”
“Exactly! And you should know better than anyone that it’s not good to feel this way all the time!” She throws her hands up in exasperation before she softens her tone and adds, “Then again, doctors usually make the worst patients, don’t we?”
But she’s wrong, because I don’t feel this way all the time. I like my career. I like my patients, and I like helping people. I enjoy going to work most days, even if I haven’t managed to befriend all my coworkers. And I don’t wake up every morning intending to be a miserable grump.
In fact, lately … I don’t wake up miserable at all.
I think it’s this crap—these confrontational interactions with my family that I dread to the point of putting me in a bad mood. This is the source of that underlying anger and resentment I can’t seem to shake.
“Is that what you did, Lil? Your therapist help you work through all that guilt when you moved away and left us behind?” I mumble after a while. But I regret it as soon as I look up and see the way her eyes are watering. I shake my head. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”
She bites her lip and nods softly. “You know, I never had what you and Lo have. I didn’t have anyone to cling to when things first started getting bad at home. But I’ve always been grateful the two of you had one another, and I’d hate to see you ruin that bond because you’re too scared and stubborn to allow yourself to heal or move on or … whatever the hell it is you need to be happy.”
My chest feels like it’s being squeezed, and I involuntarily reach up to rub it. “I don’t think I know how to be happy,” I say after a while, my voice cracking.
“Then let someone help you figure it out.” She turns her head and gestures in Daisy’s direction.
Daisy’s eyes instantly meet mine, and they’re filled with concern. Then she offers me a sad smile, and I clear my throat and look away when my eyes begin to sting.
“You deserve it, Landry,” Lilley adds with a light sniffle.
I stand abruptly, because I can’t take any more. “I’m going to get a drink. Thanks for the session, Doc.”
But Daisy follows me to the bar, and I curse under my breath.
“Hey, is everything okay?” she asks, placing a gentle hand on my forearm.
“Fine,” I retort as I lift my arm to pick up a fresh glass of champagne. But I frown when I realize I actually felt better before I shirked the contact.
“Landry,” she begins.
“I said I’m fine,” I repeat before she can continue. I turn and spot my sister dancing with my dad, then I throw the glass back and down its contents. “Loving and supportive, right?” I mutter before I hand Daisy the empty champagne flute and march toward the dance floor.
The song comes to an end as I wait with my hands in my pockets. My dad lets Loren go and casts a wary glance my way before he walks off, and I force a smile when I offer a hand to her.
“Never thought I’d be the most popular girl at the dance, but here we are,” Loren says, grinning, and I soften my expression as she places her hand in mine.
“You’re certainly the prettiest, Lo-Lo,” I tell her, and she laughs. “Even if you are bratty enough to need two dresses.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Who says that wasn’t just an excuse to go home and let my husband undress me before the reception?”
I groan, and she snickers, pleased with herself. “I guess you were right when you said you didn’t need my help fending off the creeps,” I begin again. “You’ve certainly managed to turn the douchey quarterback into a sappy family man.”
Her smile fades. “I didn’t do anything. Blake’s always been a great guy. It’s just that none of us wanted to see it.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say as we continue dancing. My eyes drift over to the crowd, and I spot Lilley watching us, though I can’t read her expression. Then I notice Daisy beside her, and I turn my attention back to Loren.
“Either way, you’re a beautiful bride and an even better mom. I’m proud of you,” I choke out after a while.
“Thank you, Landry.” Loren squeezes me tightly just as the song ends, and I rest my chin over her head as I welcome the embrace. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“But I still think you’d be happier if you gave this stuff a shot.” She pulls back and looks up at me. “You know who would also make a lovely bride?” She inclines her head in Daisy’s general direction, and my stomach turns.
“Don’t do that right now,” I mumble and let her go. I should have known she’d add a but after that.
“Do what?” She grins mischievously. “Get you to loosen up and see what’s right in front of you?”
I blink, my head suddenly getting thick. I probably should have eaten before having a few drinks. “Whatever.”
“Landry …” she steps forward and reaches out for me when I sway on my feet.
But I push her away, and everything gets foggier. “Let it go, Lo.”
“Fine,” she says on a sigh, then she turns into the next set of waiting arms as I head back to the bar.