“Are you telling him about that weird tattoo artist?”
Zack looks over his shoulder at our prearranged signal. He moves out of the way so Max is visible. I stand with the soiled towel in my hands, the table behind me arranged the way it was when we arrived. Carol stands too, holding the tray with the empty glasses.
“I’ll be back with more drinks.”
Max watches as Carol leaves the room. Then his eyes swing back to me. For a long moment, we don’t break eye contact. Of all of his children, I am probably the most like Max. We’re both liars and manipulators, and extremely good at it. The only difference is that I made a conscious decision to stop. To try to be something better.
But as he watches me, there’s something in his eyes I wasn’t expecting. Like he knows there was more to all that chaos than meets the eye but he isn’t going to call me on it. Like he’s aware that I’m playing him but doesn’t even care to stop it.
Something that looks a lot like regret.
“Your brother was just showing off his latest artwork. Sit down, Gabriel. And tell me what you’ve been up to.”
chapter three
SASHA
"Is it ready yet?"
I look over at my sister Audra in confusion. "What?"
She points at the pan in front of me. "The cornbread. You took it out of the oven and you've just been standing here staring into space ever since."
"Sorry. I was just thinking."
I know I've been spaced out today but it's just because I've been so busy.
After spending weeks holed up in my house and avoiding the world, I'd realized that there were so many other dreams to pursue. Before I'd gone on the show I'd made inquiries about a space for rent in downtown New Haven. It has always been a dream of mine to open a small jazz lounge and my entire family promised to invest.
After my public humiliation, I was doubly glad that I had something else to focus on. Making plans and dreaming about how to make it happen has given me a new goal and my sanity back.
I signed a lease on a commercial space in the center of town earlier this week so it's finally happening. And I can't wait to share the good news with my family.
I look up when my sister Brenna enters the kitchen with a covered casserole dish. She's only a year older than I am and we've always been close. Even though Audra's only four years older than me, growing up it felt like light years. Her tendency to be a know-it-all doesn't help.
Brenna puts her casserole dish down on the stove and then shucks off her coat. "I brought that smothered chicken casserole you like so much."
The rest of the house is suspiciously quiet. Usually my brother-in-law Evan comes to the kitchen to say hi before plopping down in front of the television. Brenna also usually has my nephew, Carter, on her hip.
"Where is everyone?"
Brenna glances over at Audra before turning to the refrigerator. “Evan stayed at home with the baby. We thought it'd be nice to have it be just us tonight. Like old times."
Something about that doesn't seem right. Audra's husband stayed home tonight with their two daughters, too. She'd claimed they were feeling under the weather. I know how overprotective Audra can be so I didn't think it was anything serious but maybe Brenna didn't want to expose Carter to any germs she thought the girls might be carrying.
"Well, I'd hoped everyone would be here because I have good news."
Opening a small jazz lounge for enthusiasts like my father is a dream come true. There were a few times I almost gave up this past week, especially when I got to the business office and found out that I'd done my paperwork incorrectly. I had to stand in line all over again this afternoon but I've finally got it all sorted. And the feeling when my landlord gave me the keys to my new space was magical. This has been the culmination of years of saving and planning. I'm doubly excited to tell my family about it since they've all promised to invest in the club with me. It'll be a true family endeavor.
Mom enters the kitchen then and we all scurry to finish getting things ready. Once we're all seated at the table, we all clasp hands while she says grace. Brenna's casserole smells amazing. But when I pick up a serving spoon and stick it in the dish, I realize what's missing from the table.
"Where's Daddy?"
My mom doesn't meet my eyes as she answers. "He went out. Which is for the best because we need to talk to you."
"About what?" I hold out my plate to accept a serving of vegetables. Then Brenna puts a heaping serving of the casserole next it.
"The club. About our investment," Mom states.