20. Twenty #2
“And I don’t believe you,” Lucy said. “I think Mom has been funding your lifestyle for years, and you just don’t want to admit it because you two agreed to make me feel bad because you don’t agree with my life choices. You want to control me.”
“That’s not true.” I fought to keep from losing it with my sister. She always painted herself as a perpetual victim, and it was beyond annoying. “It doesn’t matter, though. This is my apartment. I’m on the lease. I pay the most money. I’m keeping my room.”
Huxley beamed at me proudly.
“I want to know what this app supposedly is,” Lucy insisted. “I’m not going to believe you if you don’t tell me.”
“Maybe it’s none of your business,” Huxley fired back.
“Oh, like you’re not curious,” Lucy barked at him.
“Oh, I’m curious,” he confirmed. “I’m just not going to push her. When she wants to tell me, she will.”
“No, I won’t,” I replied before I realized I was going to say anything. It just slipped out. “It’s embarrassing.”
His eyebrows moved toward each other as curiosity crawled over his features. “See, you’re not making this easy.” He wiped his bottom lip, as if he was actually salivating for the information. “This is torture,” he muttered.
“Oh, don’t fall for it,” Lucy snapped. “Mom has always spoiled Wylie. She agrees with Wylie’s life choices, so she has no problem giving her money. I, on the other hand, am always forced to beg and plead for money because she thinks I’m flaky. It’s not fair.”
Huxley lost his temper. “Life isn’t fair, Lucy,” he growled. “Also, I don’t think your mother has been funding Wylie’s life. That just doesn’t seem like something Aggie would do.”
“How would you know?” Lucy fired back. The words were barely out of her mouth before a familiar gleam appeared in her eyes. “I bet Mom wouldn’t like this particular life choice, would she?” When she gestured toward Huxley, my heart dropped to my stomach.
“You are not about to try to blackmail me,” I said right away.
“I would never use the word blackmail.” Lucy was suddenly the picture of innocence. “Who said anything about blackmailing you?”
I took a deep, centering breath. “You’re going to do what you’re going to do. If you feel the need to tell Mom, that’s on you. I’m done with this conversation, though.”
I took a deep, shaking breath. “I pay the bulk of the rent on this place. I pay for all the food. I even cut you a break on your quarter, so you can go out at least one night a month.
“I have bought you more plane tickets than I can count,” I continued. “I’ve bought you clothes. I found out that you were getting money from Mom in Wyoming using the same story you used on me.”
“I told you not to bring that up to Mom,” she hissed, missing the point entirely.
“It’s time to be a grown-up, Lucy,” I insisted. “It doesn’t matter how I make my money. It’s legal. And, yes, it was a smart enough deal that I’ll probably be able to retire in 10 years if I invest wisely, which I’m doing. Mom hooked me up with her financial advisor.”
“But Mom didn’t ask how you made all that money?” Lucy challenged. “That’s bullshit. She wouldn’t just let you get away with that.”
“I told her enough to make her understand why I didn’t want anybody to know, and she accepted that,” I replied.
Actually, it had been Mick who pushed her to accept it.
He knew what I’d done. He’d helped me find a programmer.
He never told my secret, either, which was only one of the reasons I loved the man.
“It doesn’t matter, Lucy,” Huxley interjected. “What Wylie does to make a living is her business.”
“And yet everybody gets to lodge an opinion on how I make a living,” Lucy complained. “Do you not see the hypocrisy in that?”
“Wylie pays for all her own bills,” he countered. “She’s not asking others to fund her lifestyle. That’s why she gets privacy. If you’re going to keep expecting others to fund your lifestyle, then you don’t get the same level of privacy. That’s not how it works.”
“But … Wylie has it easy. She followed in Mom’s footsteps, and she’s the favorite. It’s not fair.” Lucy folded her arms over her chest and glared. She was clearly in meltdown territory, which I recognized.
“That’s not true,” I said, my voice softer than I expected it to be. Lucy had pressed every button I had, and it was difficult to maintain my temper. “We were raised differently — I won’t deny that — but I had to be more self-sufficient than you.”
“You mean you were the favorite child who got to go to all the book signing stuff while I got left in the hotel room with a nanny,” Lucy seethed.
“You were too young to be on the convention floor,” I protested.
“And that wasn’t as fun as you’re imagining,” Huxley added. “It was a lot of pressure.”
“Oh, listen to the guy who got the same deal from his mother that Wylie got from our mother.” Lucy got to her feet. “I’m sick of being disrespected.”
Huxley opened his mouth to say something else — something I knew wouldn’t be kind — and I shook my head as I placed my hand on his knee. It wasn’t worth it. Lucy had ventured into meltdown mode, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“You need to figure things out for yourself, Lucy,” I said in a low voice. “It’s time. As for our relationship and you blabbing to Mom before we’re ready, I can’t stop you. I’m not going to let you blackmail me, though.”
“Definitely not,” Huxley agreed. “If you feel the need to be a tattletale, go nuts. We’re going to have to figure out a way to tell our mothers anyway, because this isn’t just some fling.
It’s real, and they’re going to have to deal because we’re not shifting our lives to make them happy. Not this time.”
I went warm all over as I glanced at him. He was focused on Lucy, though.
“So, you do what you have to do, Lucy,” he continued. “Don’t you ever try to blackmail your sister again, though. That is gross and so, so wrong given everything she’s done for you.”
Lucy made a whining sound in her throat, but she didn’t say anything else. Instead, she turned on her heel and stormed into her bedroom. The sound of her slamming her door caused me to jolt.
Huxley wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder as I forced myself to calm down. “Are you okay?” he asked after a full 30 seconds of silence.
I nodded. “She has to stand on her own two feet. She just … has to.” Briefly, I closed my eyes. “I thought she was getting better. I actually believed Hayley was a good influence on her.”
“She probably is getting better. Everybody relapses into bad habits every now and then, though.”
“Yeah.” I let myself lean against him. “Are you worried she’ll tell my mom? Even if your mom doesn’t find out directly, if the news slips to my mom, our privacy will be gone.”
He merely shrugged. “I would prefer coming up with a plan of our own to tell them. We might not get that option, though. We’ll just have to play it by ear.”
“Okay. As long as you’re not upset.”
“I’m not upset. I’m proud of you. It took a lot of bravery to take her on the way you did.”
“I don’t feel brave.”
His lips brushed my brow. “Would you feel better if we took the wallowing into the bedroom?”
A laugh escaped before I realized it was coming. “Are you being serious right now?”
“I am.”
It seemed like a good offer on the face of it. Still … “What about the dolphins?”
“They’re not going anywhere. We can try leaving the apartment tomorrow.”
I grinned as I let him pull me to my feet. “That sounds like a great idea.”
“I’m glad you approve. We’ll order in dinner and everything.”
“So much for not shutting ourselves away from the world,” I lamented.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’m not going to let anything derail this.”
His answer was simple, and it made me happy. “How do you feel about Italian for dinner?”
“Too much garlic.”
“Not if we both eat it.”
He paused by my door and cocked his head. “Good point. Make sure you pick a place with good breadsticks. I love breadsticks.”
“Me, too.”
“See, everything is going to be okay. We’re getting breadsticks, and they make everything better.” He gave me a soft kiss. “I promise. It’s all going to work out.”