23. Harper
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
HARPER
“Honey, you have a visitor waiting for you in the living room.” Dad stands at my bedroom door, sounding surprisingly positive as he turns my light on.
I cringe at the sudden brightness and pull the blanket over my head. “No more visitors. Please.”
It’s been two weeks without Mom. The first week was filled with tears. The second has been an influx of family and Mom’s friends visiting us to offer their condolences. The funeral is tomorrow and I just want this all over with so the constant socializing and forced pleasantries can stop.
“Your visitor has a beautiful bouquet of roses for you,” Dad continues.
If my visitor is Paul Ferguson, so help me. I don’t mind being his friend, but the roses make it sound like his whole reason for visiting is to swoon me.
“I’m too sad to speak with anyone,” I call from beneath my blanket.
“Honey, Paul has made a special effort to visit you. I know you’re going through a lot, but I’d appreciate if you could say hello to him for five minutes. Do it for me, please. He’s my boss’s son. He won’t overstay his welcome.”
“Fine,” I groan, kicking my blanket off. “Five minutes. Give me a moment to freshen up.”
I crawl out of bed and head to my bathroom, splashing water on my face and combing my hair.
I’ve been in pajamas all day and throw on the first dress I find, lilac and mid-thigh length.
Tyler bought it for me last year on my birthday.
It’s one of my favorites, not because it’s pretty but because Tyler picked it out for me.
I check the time on my phone, impatiently waiting for Tyler and Felix to return home from school. They said it would be a quick visit to speak with teachers and collect work to complete at home. I’m surprised Felix went in at all.
It’s four o’clock, which puts me at ease, knowing I won’t have long to wait before they’re back. Tyler and Felix are all that’s keeping me together right now. The three of us are rarely apart.
Considering our grief, I wouldn’t classify our time together as fun. But their constant company is healing. We hold hands while I sit between them, watching movies. They help me care for the plants on Mom’s rooftop garden. We’ve even been cooking together.
I haven’t been back to Felix’s room again. I spend a lot of time thinking about that night we shared. From the way I catch him looking at me, I know he thinks about it too. But he’s giving me the space I need to deal with Mom’s death.
Some nights when I can’t sleep, I visit my father in his room and the two of us talk about Mom until I fall asleep next to him. Other nights, Tyler will hold me in his arms to help me sleep.
Last night was the best. I fell asleep in my bed with Felix and Tyler on either side of me. When I woke up, the three of us were hugging. My hair was wrapped around Felix’s fist again. Tyler had my leg hiked around his waist.
Bracing myself for this interaction with Paul, I take a deep breath and head to the living room, finding my dad, Paul, and his parents—Holly and Samuel—sitting on the couches.
I give them all a polite smile. They offer their condolences which is kind, but I’d rather be left alone.
I don’t know these people. I’ve met Holly and Samuel a couple of times over the last few months at Dad’s work functions.
As for Paul, I could count the number of times I’ve met him on one hand.
I’m creeped out at the way Paul is looking at me right now, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It’s inappropriate, given the somber reason for his visit.
The few times I’ve met Samuel, we’ve probably spoken ten words to each other. He’s a powerful man on Wall Street and doesn’t pay much attention to me. He’s the kind of man who holds a room just by being present.
Holly is a homemaker and invests a lot of time volunteering in charity events. She’s always been lovely to me but she’s still only an acquaintance.
Paul stands from the couch and hugs me. “Hey, beautiful. How are you holding up?” He hugs me for a little too long and with his hand too low on my spine.
His brown eyes are tender and his voice is soft, filled with concern. He’s average in the looks department but is not the kind of guy I’m attracted to.
Paul is tall and lanky. He wears glasses and has a preppy fashion sense.
His black hair is always gelled to one side.
We don’t have anything in common. All he talks about is coding and video games, which I know nothing about.
I think he mentioned an older brother living overseas, but I can’t remember if I’m confusing that conversation for one I had with someone else.
Paul likes to talk about how beautiful I am on stage. I think it’s the only reason he’s interested in me. Unlike with Tyler and Felix, how it pleases me to hear them speak about how beautiful I am as a ballerina, I get the ick when Paul does it.
“These are for you.” Paul holds out a bouquet of roses.
“Thank you.” I accept the flowers, then look for the first opportunity to get out of here. “Excuse me while I find a vase for the roses.”
“We’ll tend to the roses later. Sit,” Dad tells me.
With reluctance, I join Paul on the couch.
“How are you feeling about the funeral tomorrow?” Paul asks me while our parents talk among themselves. “If there’s anything I can do to offer my support, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
“Thank you but that’s not necessary. I’ll have my family with me.”
The tail end of my father’s conversation catches my attention. “It will be such a lovely event in honor of Clara. Thank you for hosting.”
“Dad? What are you talking about?” I ask, confused why the Fergusons would be hosting anything in regard to Mom.
Holly smiles and answers. “Your mother’s exhibition is opening soon. I thought it would be lovely to organize a private showing for friends and family before the opening. We’ve offered to host at our home.”
The news makes me hesitate, not understanding why these people are getting involved in Mom’s affairs. Then again, I suppose it’s not that odd with Dad and Samuel working together .
I make myself smile. “Thank you. That will be lovely.”
“It was Paul’s idea.”
Jesus. I guess that’s… nice. But I have the ick again. It’s not Paul’s place to be making grand gestures like this.
I look at the clock on the wall, seeing five minutes have passed.
That’s all the time Dad said I need to make an appearance for.
But there’s no way I can leave without seeming rude.
So, I stay in my spot and it’s a miserable afternoon.
I have to wipe my eyes dry several times over the stories I hear about Mom.
Then I have to act like I appreciate Paul’s support when he places his hand on my knee, telling me it’s okay to be sad.
The only thing that lifts my spirits is when the front door opens. Felix walks in after school and all eyes turn to him.
Dad clears his throat. “Everyone, this is Felix. He and his brother are living with us for a while. Very important boys. Like sons to Clara and brothers to Harper. They’ve been a great help to me during this time, taking such good care of Harper.”
I blush at the mention of Felix being my brother. My legs clench. Dad has no clue just how well Felix takes care of me.
The slightest smirk plays on Felix’s lips. He knows why I’m blushing.
My father goes on to explain Mom’s connection with the Blackwoods.
Felix introduces himself but doesn’t intrude on the gathering and heads straight to his room.
I’m waiting for Tyler to appear through the front door, but after ten minutes, I’m disappointed and left to assume he got caught up at school.
As everyone continues talking, movement in my peripheral catches my attention.
Felix is standing on the outskirts of the room, mostly hidden from sight.
A red poker chip weaves between his fingers while he rests a shoulder against the doorframe and watches me.
Summoning me. My lips twitch with a smile, having missed him.
Felix looks at Paul and laughs quietly to himself, then looks back at me, amused, and mouths the word boyfriend?
I laugh a little too loud and draw attention to myself. “Sorry, just… a memory of something Mom did.”
“It’s nice to laugh over special memories,” Holly says. “Dear, how has your dancing been? Your father tells us you have the lead in your school’s production of Swan Lake .”
My smile drops. “I’m quitting ballet.”
Dad gasps and cuts in. “She doesn’t mean that.”
“I do mean it.” There’s no defiance in my tone. I’m not fighting him on this. My words are apathetic. “My desire to dance died along with Mom. I called the academy this morning and told them I won’t be dancing in Swan Lake .”
My father, appalled, digs his nails into the armrest. “You know your future depends on that performance. You should have discussed this with me.”
“There was no point discussing anything. Nothing feels good anymore. I’m never dancing again.”
From the redness in my father’s face, it’s clear I’ve embarrassed him by having this conversation in front of company.
That wasn’t my intention. He’ll have more to say on my decision later.
For now, he’s trying to keep his cool. If I stay in this room any longer, I can tell the situation will escalate.
“I’m not feeling well. May I please be excused?”
“Of course,” Holly answers for my father.
“Do you need company?” Paul asks.
I rise to my feet. “No, thank you.”
“Harper,” Holly calls to me before I’ve walked too far. “ Be kind to yourself. Give yourself time to grieve. You don’t need to rush back into dancing any time soon. You’ll find your love for ballet again.”
Doubtful. The only thing I want is for the pain to go away. The only thing that makes the pain go away is the guy standing in the doorway watching me. His hands on me. His lips on mine. Him whispering filthy things into my ear.
His brother.