Damien glances up from his phone, his eyes practically bugging out of this head. All the boys know my sister from our childhood but none of them know this version of Luna from up close.
We’ve seen her on social media, all grown up and preened to fit in with the ideal teen pop star mold. It’s too early for her to be in full makeup with her hair pulled into a slicked high ponytail, but that’s how she’s appeared. The outfit is out there too. A black catsuit that’s tight all over, showing off her tiny waist and the womanly hips she’s developed since we stopped communicating.
Two of the suited men stand on either side of her. One lurks in the hallway with Greg, and I can see at least another two outside. I don’t know what’s happened to her that she needs so much protection. Surely, a pop star on the brink of their first tour doesn’t need this much security.
“Luna…” I don’t know what to say to my sister. Long time no see would trivialize the reasons for the gap in our relationship. There are many buttons I could push that would explode all over again, and I don’t want to do that. If Luna’s here, maybe it’s because she’s forgiven me.
Greg takes a step closer to stand in the doorway, leaning on the doorjamb, crossing his arms, and staring at Luna’s back as though he can’t quite believe it’s her. I’m in the same situation.
“I’m going on tour,” she says, fully expecting me to be up to date with her career. I am, but I’m not going to tell her that I Google her at least once a week to make sure she’s okay. How fucked up is that?
“Okay,” I say.
Her head drops to the side as her eyes drift from me, scanning the kitchen, focusing momentarily on Damien before snapping back to me.
“I need you to take care of Mom.”
“What?” The word whooshes out of my mouth like phlegm. Mom hasn’t been in our lives since we were kids. The care system raised us, and when I was old enough, I took over.
Great job that I did too.
“I need you to take care of Mom. She’s sober, but she won’t be for long if I leave her behind with no one to force her to meetings and keep up with her recovery.” Her green eyes scan me, waiting to see how I’m going to respond to this bombshell.
“You’re in touch with Mom?”
“She’s the only real family I have,” Luna says. Her eyes narrow and just that look of resentment toward me makes my heart fall in the cavity of my chest. There was a time when Luna would say the same thing to Jake and me. We’d lie on the grass in the yard of our foster home, shoulder to shoulder as though pressing our bodies together would keep us fused as a unit. Sometimes Luna would slide her hand into mine, and we’d stare up at the sky. I don’t know what my brother and sister were thinking, but I was praying that the universe would give us at least one adult to keep us safe and provide the security we needed to grow. That adult wasn’t our mom or our dad. We were all we had in the world.
Now Jake is gone, and Luna has withdrawn from me.
And the woman who let us down, time and time again, has replaced both of us in Luna’s life.
Jake would be devastated. I’m devastated. All I want is my brother and sister back.
But there is no way I can take on responsibility for Mom. She’d drag me into the hole she’s been existing in since before we were born. I can’t be pulled down again. I just can’t.
“I’m sorry, Luna. Mom isn’t my responsibility.” I try to keep my voice even and calm. I try to convey that I’m sorry that I can’t be the brother she needs in my tone, but she doesn’t seem to get it.
“She gave us life. We owe it to her.”
“We don’t owe anybody anything,” I say, inhaling a deep breath to push down the wave of anger that’s bubbling in my chest.
“You owe me,” Luna hisses. Her pretty face is so pinched that I have to look away. “You owe me a brother. The least you can do is take care of what I have left of a mother.”
“Luna,” Greg says in a low, warning tone.
She puts up her hand to silence him from saying anything else.
“I’ve tried…” she says, her shoulders slumping just slightly. “I’ve really tried to move past what happened. I’m trying to make things right. If you want to repair things between us, I need you to do this.”
Damien twists his chair to face my sister, the scrape of the wood on the tile loud enough to make me flinch. “Luna,” he says in a soft but firm voice. “Tyler isn’t going to take care of Kaylee. There isn’t room in this house or space in his life for someone who only ever brings people down. We feel sorry for her, but we can’t help.”