What started out with me helping my mom make dinner has turned into an impromptu gathering with the Paynes. All of them, including Dalton.
My archnemesis is sitting in the recliner in the den while my mom, Mrs. Payne, and I put the finishing touches on dinner.
This entire scenario isn’t odd. My parents have been friends with the Paynes for as long as I can remember. It’s the addition of Dalton, that is unusual. Normally, he’s too busy with friends or sports practice to come over. His parents normally just take him a plate to eat when he gets home late.
His eyes found mine the second I answered the door and his parents stepped out of the way. He didn’t say a word to me as he walked into the house, but the look in his green eyes was nothing like the millions of times he’s glared at me in disgust. I directed the guys to the living room, and thankfully, that’s where they have stayed.
“How are you feeling, Piper?” Mrs. Payne asks as she transitions the mashed potatoes from the pot on the stove to a serving dish on the counter.
“Pretty good. My arm only hurts late in the evening. I’m off the prescription pain meds and only taking over-the-counter stuff when it bothers me.”
Her face scrunches up, and I recognize the same look of guilt that was on her face when she told me she was sorry Dalton wrecked his car with me in it.
“That’s good.” Her voice is small and still tinted with shame.
It makes me feel ten times worse, but Dalton has been home for over a week now, and from overhearing conversations between my parents, he still hasn’t remembered anything from that night.
“I’ll be as good as new before long,” I assure her.
My physical ailments may heal, but the torment from my lies will haunt me until the truth comes out, and even if he never gets his memories back, I imagine I’ll feel the weight of my sins for the rest of my life.
“I hate to even ask this of you,” Mrs. Payne begins as she places the potato pot in the sink, running water in it to soak, “but would you consider still tutoring Peyton?”
She’s hopeful when she turns around to face me, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s already anticipating my rejection. According to her, her son almost killed me. Why would I volunteer to help her family when she believes they caused me pain and suffering?
“Of course,” I answer before I give myself time to talk myself out of it.
“Really?” Shock fills her voice. “That’s very kind of you.”
I just nod, busying myself with getting silverware from the drawer.
“Can I ask another favor?”
“Sure.” I’m filled with trepidation when I look at her again.
“Preston usually visits my parents in the summer, but with everything that’s happened, we didn’t feel like it was a good time for him to be separated from the family.”
Translation—Dalton doesn’t remember him, and it won’t happen if he’s gone.
“I was hoping you’d be able to keep an eye on him during the day while you’re tutoring Peyton.” She takes a deep breath and continues before I can respond, “He’s pretty self-sufficient. Mostly stays in his room playing video games, so you won’t have to keep a constant eye on him.”
I almost tell her no, but the guilt won’t let me. “Sure. No problem.”
“I’ll pay you double what we agreed to for helping Peyton.”
I merely nod before walking out of the room to set the dining room table. If I turned down the money, it would look suspicious, so while I put the silverware by the place settings, I think of places I can donate it to for charity. I can’t keep it. It’s effectively blood money, and I’ve done enough bad things to last a lifetime.
The unspoken part of watching Preston seems to be that I’ll now be doing my tutoring at the Paynes instead of going over junior high math equations in the comfort of my own bedroom like I had planned. I chalk it up to penance before heading to the den to let the guys know dinner is ready.
My hands are trembling by the time I take my seat. Somehow, Dalton ends up sitting right beside me. Every other time he bothered to show up for one of these meals, we take seats as far away from each other as possible. It decreases the possibility of any of our parents discovering the hostility between the two of us.
My mom smiles at me when I pull my chair further under me, and I hope she didn’t notice that I also moved it a few inches closer to Peyton. Even the distance I’ve managed to put between Dalton and myself doesn’t ease the tension. I know exactly what tonight is. It’s a show of reunification, a way to test the waters and see if the relationships between the families will survive the tragic accident that nearly took the lives of a child from both families.