16. Chapter Sixteen - Tanner
Tanner
“How's my favorite sister?” I ask enthusiastically, slowly opening the door to her hospital room. Her face lights up when I come into sight before she quickly schools it again. Like the cool teenager she is.
"Your one and only sister," she says pointedly, "is going up the fucking walls. When can I leave?"
"You need to ask Adam for that," I tell her and sit down on the uncomfortable chair right next to her bed, throwing the bouquet of get-well-soon flowers into her lap.
"I don't think he wants to talk to me," she admits, reaching for the bouquet and turning it in her hands. "Carnations." A small smile starts playing at her lips. They’ve always been her favorite. "Thank you, Tanner."
"Anything for you," I say, and lean back with a sigh. She might be right. Adam is still angry with her. And I get it. I was, and kind of still am, too.
Yet I can’t forget about the fact that she’s still our little sister and has never broken a bone before—this whole experience must have been scary and I can’t exactly blame her for forgetting to press ‘send’ on a message right before her first ever surgery.
So for now, I’m swallowing my anger. Adam is angry enough for the two of us. Considering he’s bearing the brunt of the trauma that losing our parents caused, since he was the oldest when it happened, I’m sure there’s a healthy portion of fear he’s not admitting to in his reaction.
"Okay, so how exactly did that happen anyways?" I point at her casted arm curiously, and she grimaces.
"Honestly, I don't even know," she whines and shakes her head. "One moment I was skiing down the mountain. The next, someone drove into me and lost control and next I know I was hugging a tree.” I grimace at that image.
“God, I guess you can be lucky it’s only a broken arm,” I mutter, and she nods.
“Thanks to Jackson’s insistence on us wearing protective gear,” she points out. Jackson is still not too happy with her as well, but this might just be an argument in favor of her forgiveness. “My friends helped me down the mountain and called the paramedics. Truthfully, I don’t remember much. I was in so much pain."
"So that fucker did not stay? Check if you’re okay?" I ask, sitting up straighter, anger bubbling in my stomach.
"No," she says and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Trust me. If he did, I would have given him a piece of mind and got him on the hook for the medical bills. You know I'm a good skier, Tanner." She looks at me insistently, and I nod.
Jackson had taken us sledding and skiing once when we were younger, and she'd taken such a liking to it that she made him take her every year. It took a lot of tantrums, but of course, he gave in. She basically grew up on these things. So, it has to take a lot for her to break her bones doing it.
"Have you told Adam?"
"Yeah, I gave him the gist of what happened," she whispers, pulling her knees to her chest. "He just nodded, then left to make a call. I don't think he likes me very much at the moment."
"He loves you," I assure her and lean forward to give her a gentle head pat. "But I'm sorry to say you might not be wrong. Right now, you're not exactly on top of his favorites list, which honestly, you should have expected."
She rolls her eyes. "Please. You all did dumb shit in college and you never received a blow-up like this. What was that whole Amsterdam thing about anyways? I figured if it got out I lied to you, he’d angry, but I’ve never seen him that mad.” She looks crestfallen and I can’t help but feel for her. We all did stupid shit at nineteen. Well, most of us. She couldn’t exactly read Adam’s mind about what this trip meant to him.
“Did you know he and Jackson made up?" I ask her, and her head shoots around in surprise. "I'll take that as a no.”
“When? How?" she blurts out with wide eyes, and I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I tell her about what's been going on.
"So to Adam, this whole thing was a way to get closer as a family again," I end my monologue which, to her credit, she did not interrupt once. "You know, between the two of us…" I lower my voice. "There's a lot you don't know about what went on because you were too young and they wanted to protect you from it. And while you're still the baby of the family, I think Adam and Jackson are struggling with the fact that you're not… well, a baby anymore."
I take a deep breath. "You know the two? They're hyper-aware of their shortcomings. I think doubt and a stream of ‘what if’ goes through their head constantly. And they're scared of losing you."
"Losing me?" Her eyes grow wide. "Why?"
"Oh, come on, Zoey." Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. "Take two minutes and look back on your behavior over the past months since you went to university. Jackson laid it out for you perfectly yesterday."
I remain silent, watching her eyes dart around the room as she tries to recall.
“Because I opt out of your gaming nights? Wow, big deal.”
"Zoey." I sigh, annoyed and lift my hand, extending my index finger. "First, you've never once joined us in our game nights on Saturdays," I point out, lifting my middle finger as well.
"Whenever either of us messages you, it usually takes you weeks to answer, if we get one at all." And finally, I lift my ring finger. "You've skipped our family vacation in order to go ski with your friends.
"Try to look at it from our perspective. For the past months, you've basically told us that you can't be bothered to keep in contact, even if we reach out again and again, and always repeating the same ’nothing is wrong’ whenever I tried to ask you about it.” I take a deep breath. “So let me ask you again: Is everything okay? Did one of us do something?”
“No, it’s not like that.” She shakes her head with a deep sigh. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“You’ll never know unless you tell me.” I shrug. “Anyways. After everything that both Jackson and Adam sacrificed in order to give us a relatively normal childhood, can you really blame them for being emotional right now? Of course this feels like a slap in the face."
She turns pale with each word, then visibly gulps. "I really thought Jackson just said that in the heat of the moment. Fuck," she admits weakly, and I catch myself at the last second before I scold her for cursing. Force of habit and all that.
"It's not like that," she finally whispers hastily, wiping a tear from her cheek. "That's not it at all."
"I believe you that it wasn't your intention." I get up from the uncomfortable chair to sit next to her on the bed instead. "But, Zoey, you're an adult now, and with that comes some adult decisions and consequences. One of them being that your brothers are going to be mad at you if you screw up. Because you don't have that 'she's just a baby' status anymore." I shoot her a sad smile and pat her head in what I hope is a comforting gesture.
"And while I think that’s ultimately exactly what you wanted by the time you left for college, it means you can’t take us for granted anymore."
I get up with a sigh and start pacing in front of her, feeling bad about having acted similarly. Retrospective is a bitch.
"Don't worry. Reed and I basically got the same talk on the jet, but from Adam and in less emotional circumstances. So we're not singling you out for acting flakey, okay?"
"Okay," she whispers, and wipes her tears off her face. "Can you tell me more about Amsterdam? What was it like? Did they really make up?"
"Well, you'll be surprised, but I didn't hear one argument the whole time we were there," I say, trying to act overly shocked and sighing in relief. And that brings a little smile to her face.
"So, Summer, huh?" she asks with a wide grin once I'm done telling her about Amsterdam.
"Huh?”
“You've talked an awful lot about her," she points out, trying to cross her arms in front of her chest but stopped by her cast.
A flurry of emotions start bubbling in my stomach, the mix of regret and longing making me nauseous. "Did I?"
"Yeah." She nods. "Are you seriously going to be the third one to get hitched? I would have bet on Reed."
"Why? What do you know about Jackson?" I ask curiously and lean closer. “Have you seen his girlfriend? What’s her name? Why is he so secretive?” I narrow my eyes at her. “Is he gay and afraid to tell us?” Zoey shakes her head and pushes me away by my shoulder.
"Don't change topics. I'm asking about you here." Now it’s her turn to narrow her eyes. "Who's this Summer?"
"You know Luca, right?" Her eyes light up. "Of course I do. Love that last movie he did. I went to watch it with…" Suddenly she looks at me like a deer in headlights. I shake my head at her. She has her own life now and if she doesn’t want to share, I’m not going to pry.
"I’m going to ignore that.” I clear my throat. “Well, it's…" I pause. "Summer is his sister."
Her eyes grow even wider and her mouth drops open. "Shut up." She sounds scandalized and playfully hits my upper arm. "So she’s your friend’s sister! The plot thickens."
"There's no plot," I finally say, shoulders sagging in resignation. "I fucked it up."
"How?"
"That's none of your business," I assure her. But it has the opposite effect of what I wanted to achieve. Fuck.
“Is it my fault?" She looks genuinely shocked.
"No, it's not your fault," I quickly assure her. "It's mine. You might have neglected to send a message, but I never even thought about writing to her at all." I clear my throat and scratch my head nervously. “And that is definitely my shortcoming. So, I really can't blame her."
"I'm sure it's fine," Zoey says. "Knowing you, you’ll win her back in a heartbeat."
I give her a tight smile and shake my head. "No. No, I won’t."
But I'll be damned if I don't try.
"What did you do?"
Right as I got to my hotel room, my phone started ringing with Luca, ready to tear me another one on the other end of the line.
"Sorry for disappearing like that," I start off and pinch the bridge of my nose. "We really didn’t want to worry any of you. Did Adam talk to you yet?"
"Nobody's been talking to me." He sounds frustrated and kind of muffled, like he's walking through a long corridor, his voice echoing off bare walls. "Not Summer, not you guys… Now, spill. Because I know something is up with Summer, and Millie doesn’t know why. The only other person I can think of who would know, is you. There's been a weird ass mood ever since you guys left. So, care to fill me in?"
"Adam got a message from Zoey in the middle of the night," I start in the very beginning. "It just said that she's in a hospital and about to go into surgery. So he called all of us in a panic, and we rushed back, thinking the worst."
"Is she alright?" He sounds a bit calmer, and when I tell him she is, I hear a relieved sigh on his end of the line.
"Thank God. So what's that got to do with Summer?"
"I really don't want to tell you," I say with a grimace. Oh God. He’s going to kill me. Slowly and painfully.
“But I can't help you if you don't tell me,” he points out, and I freeze.
"You want to help me?"
"That depends on what you did," he says. "Fact is, even with… whatever happened, I can't remember seeing Summer as happy as she was when you dragged her out of her room that day. And since Summer's happiness is my priority, along with Millie's, I need to know what's up."
I remain silent for a minute, weighing my chances. Fuck. If I want any chance of making this right, he’s the best ally to have.
"I think I need to preface this by saying that hurting her was never my intention."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I can almost hear him roll his eyes. “Spare me the lecture and explain."
"Well, we kind of, you know…" I clear my throat. "…spent the night together."
"That's what I figured," he says.
"She was very clear that if we did that, she would want more." The realization of how much I fucked up sinks deeper into my bones with each word that leaves my mouth. "And… And I left in the middle of the night and I kind of didn't message her for more than a day," I admit, one word fusing with the next as I try to get them out as quickly as possible. "And now I'm blocked and can’t make this right."
"Dude," he says with a deep sigh, the annoyance clear even through the phone. "Yeah, you fucked up. God, how could you do that?"
"No shit, Sherlock." I roll my eyes at him and start pacing my room again.
"Let me ask you something first," he finally finds his words again. "Is that still your intention? You want more with her? Like, dating, and… okay, I guess you already met our parents, but you know what I mean."
"Very much so, yes," I admit and hear a frustrated sigh at the other end of the line.
"Let me talk to Millie and get back to you," he says, taking a deep breath. "Just a word of caution: Summer is headstrong."
"So I've noticed," I mutter, but he continues undeterred.
"Getting in her good graces again after what you did? It's not going to be easy. Hell, she even sometimes still teases me about me stealing a damn cookie from her when she was five. So, she's headstrong. And she's resentful. And I'll have you know I heard her mutter something about spite fueling her."
Fuck. This really isn’t going to be easy, if it’s possible at all.
"So, if you're not willing to put on a fight, I'm going to have to ask you to step back. Right now. I’m not watching her get her hopes up only for you to bow out once it becomes difficult."
“I won’t.”
"Good. Because she's worrying about enough shit, and if you don't intend on following through, you need to keep this off her plate."
"Whatever it takes, man," I say, conviction settling in my gut. Thankfully, he seems satisfied with that answer.
"I'll hold you to that," he says.
And I nod, even though he can't see.
She's mine. She's been from the moment she compared me to a fucking didgeridoo. I just didn't know it. And neither did she.
But I'm going to make sure she knows.