The Man Who Has No Sight (Soulless 4)
Page 3
“I’ll invite my mother and Tucker over, maybe Pria, depending on what Tucker says.”
“What about Derek?”
“I’ll invite him…and Valerie.”
I hoped she was on her best behavior, especially in front of his family. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, so I’ll be at the office.” I would stay out of his way, make sure Valerie didn’t have any idea I was living there.
His eyes turned back to me, narrowing at my words. “You’re working on Thanksgiving?”
“Well, I always have stuff to do.” I didn’t want him to pity me. Pity was the worst. I didn’t volunteer that the office would actually be closed for the long weekend.
He continued to give me his cold stare, like I offended him. “I just assumed we would spend Thanksgiving together.”
Now I stared at him blankly, surprised by the offer because I’d never expected him to feel that way. I’d met his family, but spending the holidays with him, his family, his son, and his ex-wife…seemed pretty serious. “I…I just assumed you wouldn’t want me there.”
“Why?” he asked, his eyes more intense.
“I don’t know… I thought we were taking it slow.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the woman I love. I want to spend the holidays with the woman I love. I don’t understand what’s so complicated about that.”
I took a breath and steadied the tears that wanted to form. I had been alone on every holiday, and it was the first time I had someone to spend it with since my divorce. There was nowhere else I wanted to be than right here. “I just didn’t want to be presumptuous…”
“Well, you should be more presumptuous.” His tone was a little cold, as if he was actually upset with me at the assumption.
“Even with Valerie there?” I asked incredulously. “Don’t you think that’s going to be—”
“I don’t give a shit how she feels about it. I’ll invite her because I want Derek to see a healthy relationship between his two parents. If she can’t handle that, then she can spend it alone or with Jake. I really couldn’t care less.”
It meant the world to me to be included, for him to want me to spend the holiday with his family and his son. It was the first time I was actually excited about Thanksgiving since I never really felt comfortable with my ex’s family. “Well…thank you.”
“And I’m not inviting you because you’re living here—if that was your next assumption.”
Two
Deacon
I walked down the hallway to Valerie’s front door.
“The museum was soooooo boring.” Derek walked beside me, his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t get museums. They’re quiet…you can’t touch anything…there’s ugly paintings everywhere.”
That was something Derek never had connected with—the arts. He was like me, only interested in quantitative data, moved by facts, not fiction. He was never interested in reading Harry Potter, but instruction manuals instead. He liked to color in coloring books, but if he were to try to paint a blank canvas, he quickly lost interest. “You should try to appreciate everything in life, Derek. Even the things that don’t interest you.”
“Do you like museums?”
“Depends on the kind of museum.”
“Well, this one was so lame.”
I chuckled then knocked on the door.
Valerie opened it a second later and greeted her son. “Hey, honey.” She ran her fingers through his thick hair before she stepped aside and let him into the condo.
“Hey, Mom.” He immediately dropped his backpack and left it in the middle of the floor even though he knew better. Clearly, Valerie had very different house rules than I did. He moved farther inside and disappeared from the entryway.
Valerie was hostile once he was gone, her arms across her chest, furious with me.
Sometimes I felt like we were still married. “I’m hosting Thanksgiving, if you’d like to join us.”
A slight hint of surprise moved into her gaze.
“If you don’t already have plans…” I couldn’t tell how serious she was with Jake because I’d stopped asking. I told her I didn’t like him, and I wouldn’t repeat myself. If she wanted to date a piece of shit, I wouldn’t intervene.
“No, we don’t.”
“Alright. We’re eating at four.”
“Who’s going to be there?”
“My mom, Tucker and his girlfriend, and Cleo.”
Her hostility returned. “Cleo?”
“Yes.” I slid my hands into my pockets.
“You really think it’s appropriate for her to be at a holiday?”
My eyes narrowed, and I had to swallow my rage, to keep a straight face even though I wanted to tell her to fuck off. “Yes.”
“Look, I don’t feel comfortable with her being around—”
“Then don’t come, Valerie.”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“I’m inviting you to Thanksgiving. You can accept or decline. Simple.”
Her arms tightened, and her lips pressed together hard, like she was a dormant volcano that had just come to life. “I don’t want Cleo around our son.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I turned to leave, still struggling to believe how heartless she was.