Chapter 5 #4
Aspen shifted her attention to Maisie. “Hey Mais, how did your presentation go today? Did that little asshole Brayden shoot spitwads at you again?”
“Aspen!” Chloe admonished again, throwing her hands up. “You cannot call an eight-year-old an asshole. And stop teaching her that language.”
“Can I say ‘shit’?” Maisie asked innocently. “Because I heard you say that word twice already this week, Mom.”
“Ohh, busted.” Olly said, and everyone at the table laughed. Except Maddy.
Maddy was too busy trying to read Aspen. The avoidance of eye contact, the pulled-back looks, the half-laughs caught and reassembled—she recognized them because they were her signature moves.
It shouldn’t have bothered her. Aspen was ignoring her. Good. Great, even. She’d been a thorn in Maddy’s side since freshman year. This was better. One less annoyance she had to worry about.
Then it struck her.
Jake. They went to Nicky’s together the other night. They were dating and Aspen felt guilty about it. That had to be it.
There. She figured it out. Mystery solved.
Maddy waited for the tightness in her chest to loosen. It didn’t.
What would Aspen be feeling guilty about anyway? The fact that Jake was Maddy’s ex-boyfriend, and Aspen was worried about Maddy finding out? Or—
“Did you really go to school with Aunt Aspen?” Maisie’s voice came from across the table, interrupting Maddy’s thoughts.
Maddy hadn’t spoken a word since they sat down and it took her a moment to realize the question was aimed at her. She glanced up to see Maisie’s eyes locked on her, waiting for an answer.
Across the table, Aspen’s wine glass froze midway to her mouth, and she very carefully lifted her eyes to meet Maddy’s.
“Yes.” Maddy said flatly. She turned her attention back to Maisie.
“What was she like?” Maisie propped her chin on her fist, curiosity lighting up her face.
“Elbows, Maisie.” Chloe said without looking up. And Maisie pulled her elbows off the table, gaze still locked on Maddy, waiting.
Maddy could feel Aspen’s eyes burning into her. Of course this would be the first time all night that Aspen refused to look away.
“She was…” The words caught in her throat.
How did she describe Aspen St. Claire to a child who seemed to idolize her?
Maddy cleared her throat. “Smart.” She landed on.
“Competitive.” She flicked her eyes to Aspen, whose brows lifted, amusement written on her face.
“Irritating.” Maddy concluded with a pointed bite of food.
A single huff of laughter escaped Aspen’s mouth before she covered it with her wine glass.
“That doesn’t sound like Aunt Aspen at all!” Maisie giggled, clearly entertained. “Well, except the smart part.”
“Good save.” Aspen poked Maisie’s side, and Maisie shrieked with laughter.
“That reminds me! Do you remember that year at the Cup, darling,” Bunny shifted on the donut pillow, repositioning to speak directly to Maddy.
“It must’ve been your junior year, do you remember, your father was the official for the kayak race and he ruled in Aspen’s favor by six inches and you did not speak to him the rest of the day, you locked yourself in your bedroom and would not come down for the fireworks, and in the morning you talked Aspen into a rematch,” Bunny directed the story towards Marion now.
“Which no one told the adults about by the way…”
“Ahh yeah,” Olly chimed in, a smile taking over his face. “And I found these two dragging the kayaks up the beach at seven a.m., Aspen walking out of the ocean, fully clothed, soaked from head to toe—”
Bunny took back over. “Because Maddy decided to literally tip the scales in her favor—”
“That is not what happened.” Maddy and Aspen said it at the same time, in the same tone.
The table went silent. Maisie looked between them with her mouth hanging open. Bunny placed both hands over her heart, which made Maddy want to punch someone. Olly failed to conceal his own smirk. Aspen stared at her plate without blinking.
Maddy felt the heat creeping up her neck and the composure she had been maintaining all day crumbling down.
The Peepin’ G’s at their barricade. Olly sitting in her father’s chair at the head of the table.
Aspen’s cold shoulder. This whole fucking dinner and Bunny’s never-ending schemes.
Whatever the hell that humiliating moment just was. All of it collapsing at once.
Bunny, still smiling, outstretched her hand toward the center of the table. “Honey, can you pass the salt?”
Maddy reached for the salt on reflex. So did Aspen. The salt shaker was directly between them, and their fingers brushed. Maddy yanked her hand back. Her eyes snapped across the table.
Aspen’s eyes were wide, locked on Maddy’s—hand still frozen mid-air.
Maddy’s jaw clenched. She could feel the muscles in her face twitching as she held her gaze.
Aspen pulled her hand away from the salt, slowly. Then gestured go ahead at the shaker.
Maddy took the salt and handed it to Bunny. She picked up her wine glass, drained it, refilled it, and leaned back against her seat.
She did not look at Aspen for the rest of the night.