Chapter 26
Present Day
“This is nice, having all of us together,” Mom muses. She glances around the table at all of us, a warm smile lighting up her face. It’s the first time we’ve been together as a family of six, rather than a family of five. “We should do this every Sunday.”
“Agreed,” Dave says. They exchange a glance, and I swear he reaches for her hand under the table.
“Disagree,” I add, just for the sake of making things awkward.
My smile is beyond sarcastic and I tilt my head down, fold my arms, and stare at my silverware.
I don’t want to be here, especially with Mom and Dave both emphasizing this whole “family” thing.
We’re not a family. Dave’s not my dad. Eden’s a stranger.
“How long do we have to sit here for?” I ask soon after we’ve ordered our food.
I’m not participating in the casual conversation that Mom and Dave have got going on, but neither are my brothers or Eden.
She keeps quiet next to me, and every time I surreptitiously steal a glance at her, she’s twiddling her thumbs in her lap.
I stare across the table at Mom and Dave as I loosen my tie.
It’s hot in here. “I’ve got better things to do,” I state, even though I don’t.
Dave fixes me with a threatening look, almost as though he’s daring me to ruin this momentous occasion, and his hand tightens around the glass of his drink.
“Stop being so moody,” Mom says, almost jokingly to begin with, but then her expression quickly grows taut and she sits up a little, meeting my eyes. She looks concerned, the exact same way she did earlier this morning. “Did you take your meds today?”
“Mom,” I say with a strain to my voice. Did she seriously just ask me that? Right now? In front of everyone? I steal a quick glance at Eden to see if she’s heard, and of course she has. Now what is she going to think of me? “I’m gonna go get some air,” I mumble, exhaling.
I push myself up from the table and turn away, my pace quickening as I weave my way between tables, my eyes set on the door.
It’s Sunday afternoon, so of course the place is packed.
I tear off my tie as I push my way through a group of people, desperate to get outside.
And as soon as I do, I inhale the longest breath of air I possibly can, holding it in my lungs.
Then, I release it and lean back against the wall.
It’s clear blue skies today, and the sun beats down on me as I glance down at my tie in my hand. It reminds me of Dad.
The older I get, the more I see him in my reflection every time I look in the mirror.
I’m starting to look more and more like he did when he was in his twenties and I hate it.
Every time I see myself in a shirt and tie, it just brings back memories of when Dad would get home from work, pissed off about something, only to then take out his anger on me.
Dad was rarely ever happy when he was wearing a shirt and tie.
There’s no way I’m sticking around here.
I want to go home and tear off this damn shirt and grab a beer, then relax.
Mom was right. It has been a bad week, and that’s why I’m pleased when I shove my hand into my pocket and realize I have Mom’s car keys.
She hates parallel parking, and so I parked for her when we got here. Nice. I have a getaway vehicle.
Pulling the keys out of my pocket, I head across the parking lot toward the Range Rover.
Dave’s Lexus is parked next to it, because as we discovered when leaving the house, as a family of six we no longer all fit in one car.
I don’t feel so guilty about heading off in Mom’s now, because at least they still all have a ride home.
I climb into the driver’s seat and sling my tie back over my shoulder. I don’t start the engine though, because I end up staring through the windshield at the shrubs lining the parking lot.
No, I didn’t take my meds today. Did I take them yesterday? I don’t even know, but what does it matter? I’ve been on them for years and I still feel like hell, so it’s not like they work. I’m constantly feeling like this, always so low and so bummed out, so I’m over it by now.
There’s a small knock at the passenger window.
I snap out of my thoughts and look over.
It’s Eden, standing on the other side of the door, staring back at me through the glass.
Her dark hair falls over her shoulders in loose waves, and she plays with the ends.
Maybe she’s nervous, I don’t know. But I like that she’s come out here.
For as much as I figure she hates me, she sure can’t stay away.
Maybe she actually gives a shit, unlike most of the people in my life.
That’s the only reason I roll down the window.
“What?”
She anxiously steps back, retreating away slightly and putting more distance between us. Probably because I’m in a crappy mood, which means I can be unpredictable. “Are you coming back inside?” she asks.
“Screw that bullshit,” I tell her. “I’m not heading back in there.
” I turn back to face the shrubs, clenching my jaw.
As if I’m going back inside. Not with Mom and Dave trying to turn us into some sort of happy family, and especially not after Mom mentioned my meds.
It’s embarrassing, and it only reminds me that I’ve got something wrong with me that pills are supposed to fix.
“You’re kind of melodramatic, don’t you think?” Eden says, and I can hear it in her voice that she’s holding back a sigh. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. She only asked you a question.”
“Are you stupid? For real—are you?” I flash my eyes back over to her.
Only a question? It’s a big fucking deal to me.
“You don’t understand shit, goddamn Eden Munro.
” Sometimes I wish people knew the truth, so that maybe they would understand.
But at the same exact time, the truth is the very last thing I would ever want people to know. People would never look at me the same.
“There you go again, overreacting about every little thing. I’m trying to understand what the hell is wrong with you, but you treat me like shit every time I talk to you, so forget it,” Eden mutters, rolling her eyes.
“Now I’m going back inside, because I’m not a self-centered douche bag who throws tantrums when things don’t go my way.
” Without waiting for my reply, she turns around and struts off across the parking lot, her hair swinging.
I watch her in the side mirror, and I realize I don’t want her to leave.
God, why does she do this? Why do I like it when she tells me the truth so brutally?
Sighing, I lean across the passenger seat and out of the open window.
I softly call out, “Eden!” and pray that she hears me.
And she does because she looks back at me over her shoulder.
“Come here,” I gently order. “Come get in the car and I’ll be honest with you, and then we’ll go back inside. ”
It’s like it’s an offer she can’t resist, because her eyes light up for a fraction of a second, and then she turns around and walks back over. I start the engine just before she pulls open the passenger door and climbs inside. “Okay, what?”
Man, I’ve got to stop focusing on her damn lips.
I grip the steering wheel a little harder as I stare at her, taking in her gaze.
I like that I can see the green of my own eyes in hers.
A perfect hazel. I don’t want her to go back inside.
I want to be selfish, to keep her here with me, so that I can watch her lips move as she tells me everything I can’t bear to hear.
“Alright, you want honesty?” I ask her. As subtly as I can, I move my free hand to the gearshift.
We’re sitting in park. But not for much longer.
“Okay. I’m being totally honest right now when I tell you that we’re getting the hell out of here.
” I slam the gearshift into drive and step on the accelerator, and Mom’s Rover spirals out across the parking lot, wheels spinning until it gains some traction.
We’re going home, and so I pull straight out of the lot and into the flow of traffic.
“Are you serious?” Eden screams at me, desperately pulling on her seatbelt as though she’s terrified I’ll drive us straight into the damn Pacific Ocean.
“Not serious,” I say. “Just honest.”
“Take me back,” she orders, pressing her hand to the dashboard. She’s facing me now, those hazel eyes piercing straight through me. Clearly, she isn’t finding our spontaneous getaway as much of a relief as I am.
“You really want to go back there?” I ask her, my eyes flicking to meet hers.
I accidentally swerve a little to one side, but I quickly correct and keep my eyes trained on Eden.
“Look me straight in the eye and tell me that you want to go back to that place and eat that gross food and sit with your dad for an hour. Tell me that you honestly want to do that.”
“No. I don’t,” she reluctantly answers, her full, wet lips moving slowly. God, I almost crash the fucking car. “But I know I have to, so go back before they kill us both. Are you even allowed to drive this?”
“Are you even allowed to look like that?” I mutter, mostly under my breath, because it’s seriously beginning to frustrate me, but I say it too loud and she hears me.
She grits her teeth and snarls, “Okay, there’s no need to insult me.”
“It wasn’t an insult, Jesus Christ.” I slam on the brakes as we hit a set of lights, and I look over at her, throwing my hand into my hair. She’s driving me crazy. “We aren’t going back. We’re going to the house so that I can get a beer and tell you that Jake’s playing you, okay?”
“Thank you, Tyler,” she drawls after a moment, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you for getting me into even more trouble.”