Chapter 8 Hunter
HUNTER
My back aches from a night of tossing and turning on a mattress I haven’t broken in yet. I rub at my side, looking down at Amira as she draws a heart on a piece of paper.
“I’ll take out the trash,” Lizzy announces as she pulls the bag from the bin.
“What?” I blink a few times and shake my head, swearing I heard her wrong. My sister has never taken out the trash, not even when we were kids. “Why?”
“It needs to be done,” she answers plainly, like I’ve lost my mind for even asking.
“When are we going to eat?” Amira asks, not looking up from her drawing.
“In a bit, baby,” I tell her. “We’ll head down to Chinatown in a few hours.”
“A few hours isn’t a bit,” she argues, sounding way older than she is.
“We just had lunch,” I explain.
“It’s three.”
I loved the period before now when the kid couldn’t read a clock. Time didn’t exist to her, and I could pull the wool over her eyes sometimes, but now, she watches and times everything, including eating.
“Be right back,” Lizzy says as she slides on a pair of slippers.
When the door clicks and she disappears, I get a niggling feeling that makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I stalk toward the door, wondering what my sister is up to because she always has something going on in her brain.
“What are you doing, Daddy?” Amira asks from the kitchen island.
“Nothing,” I mutter as I press my ear against the wood.
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she replies in her sweet tone, but she’s calling me out and I’m not a fan.
I hear a distant knock and then silence for a beat.
“Hey,” my sister says. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Hi, Lizzy. No bother. Is something wrong?” Zoey asks.
I shake my head at my sister’s boldness. It’s not surprising. It’s how Lizzy’s been her entire life. She sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong. I used to get mad about it, but I’ve come to realize her actions come from a good place, even if the execution leaves a lot to be desired.
“Do you hear something out there?” Amira asks as she stops drawing and sits up a little straighter.
“Your aunt is talking to someone.”
“Who?”
“Zoey.”
“I like her,” Amira says as she goes back to her artwork. “She’s nice and pretty too.”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “She is.”
“She likes you,” she adds, like she’s fully grown and knows what she’s talking about.
“How can you tell?” I ask.
“We’re heading down to Chinatown in a bit, and we were wondering if you’d like to join us. We’re not sure where to park or how to get there and figured we’d ask the expert. Plus, it’s always good to have friends in a new city, and I thought we could get to know you better,” Lizzy says to Zoey.
“Well, um, I…” Zoey stammers.
“It’s okay. Maybe another time,” Lizzy replies.
“No. Wait. I can go.”
My heart flips, and I instantly growl, upset with my body for having a reaction to her response.
“Give me an hour to get ready. I’m a hot mess,” Zoey replies.
“Babes,” Lizzy says, “if that’s your idea of being a hot mess, I can’t imagine what you think of me.”
“You’re stunning,” Zoey says.
“Well, so are you. Take as much time as you need. We were going to leave around five so we could walk around for a bit before we have dinner.”
“I’ll be ready,” Zoey says.
“Excellent. See you then,” Lizzy says.
I hurry away from the entry before my sister has a chance to open the front door. I take the seat next to Amira, pretending to study her art masterpiece.
Lizzy strides in with her head held high as she kicks off her shoes. “I ran into the neighbor,” she lies.
“Which one?” I ask, playing dumb.
“Zoey.” Lizzy toys with the end of her braid, a habit she’s always had when she’s nervous about something. Good. She should be.
“And?” I ask, waiting to hear more of her nonsense.
Lizzy moves toward the island and leans over, placing her hand in her palm as she stares at Amira’s drawing instead of looking me in the eyes. “We were talking about Chinatown, and I invited her along.”
“Really? And what did she say?”
“She was excited to be invited.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think my sister was telling the truth. All of it rolled off her tongue so easily that I never would’ve questioned a word.
“Daddy was listening at the door,” Amira says, ratting me out.
“Hey,” I say, glancing down at my little girl, who’s always supposed to have my back but likes to stir the pot a little more than most.
“Asshole,” my sister mutters.
I place my hand against my chest and raise my eyebrows. “I’m the asshole?”
Lizzy nods. “Why were you eavesdropping?”
“Why were you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” I shoot back. This isn’t our finest adult conversation, but no matter how old we are, we’re still siblings with all the bullshit that comes along with that relationship.
“I want to get to know her better.”
“Lizzy,” I warn, but I don’t know why I waste the energy. Lizzy’s going to do what Lizzy wants to do, and everyone else be damned.
“I want to know about her cousin, okay?” she asks, blinking her eyelashes rapidly like she’s somehow innocent.
“That’s it?” I ask.
She nods. “Of course. What did you think?”
I stare at her, and she stares back. “I don’t trust you.”
Her lips crack into a smile. “Smart. Smart.”
“You like her cousin?” Amira asks Lizzy.
Lizzy nods. “He’s cute.”
“Do not mess up the relationship with my neighbor because you have the hots for a man you don’t even know.”
“I’m not going to mess anything up, big brother. And when are you going to admit that you think Zoey is beautiful?”
“Of course she’s beautiful,” I scoff. “I’m not blind, Lizzy.”
“And you like her too?” Lizzy pushes. A little bit is never enough for her.
“She’s my neighbor and my boss’s cousin. Let’s not forget that fact.”
Lizzy crosses her arms as she cocks her head. “And?”
I sigh, scrubbing my hand down my face. Exasperation doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel in this moment.
“I like Zoey too, Daddy. I approve,” Amira adds.
I forget that she’s at the age where she’s listening to everything and absorbing it. She’s not too little to understand what’s going on or to fully comprehend what we’re saying.
I peer down at the small human I helped create, wondering where my little girl has gone. “You do?”
“She’s nice. What’s not to like?” Amira asks.
I shrug. The kid has a point. When you’re young, things are really that simple. Adulthood complicates everything, and sometimes it sucks.
“Yeah, Hunter. What’s not to like?” Lizzy asks, taunting me.