“Gareth?” She glanced across. “Anything in particular?”
Her brother took a drag off his cigarette and then exhaled while shaking his head. “I’ll eat anything. Dad’s the same.”
“Roger that.”
When Trez hesitated, she answered the is-it-appropriate by making the move to kiss him.
“See you in a little bit,” she said as their lips met briefly.
“Yup, you will.” He ditched his cigarette butt in a soda bottle, then got to his feet. “Later, Gareth.”
“Later.”
Therese watched her male go—and was aware that the vibe changed immediately. But at least her brother didn’t seem overtly hostile.
“How long you been seeing him?” Gareth asked as he dropped his own butt into that bottle. Before the hissing had even faded, he was lighting another.
“They let you smoke out here?”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not. Honest.” She sighed. “So how you been? And not long. To answer your question about the dating thing.”
“So he’s not why you picked Caldwell.”
“No, I met him here. His brother is the chef at the restaurant where I work.”
“Seems like a nice guy.”
“He is.”
Before the pause became a silence that grew long and awkward, she took a deep breath and jumped into it all.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Her brother’s yellow eyes twitched, and she braced herself for an argument. Instead, he just shook his head. For a while.
Sitting beside him, she gave him the space and time he needed to sort his emotions out. And she appreciated that he didn’t do a rant-and-rave that would accomplish nothing and exhaust them both.
“I just really…” He started and didn’t finish. Started again. “I just couldn’t believe you would abandon us. You didn’t just leave them… you left me, and whatever, I know you’re my sister, but you’re a friend, too. My roommate. You know. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re only saying that because it does.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He took another drag. “I need to stop smoking. Thank God vampires don’t get cancer—and no, I absolutely do not do it anywhere around Mom.”
“I never even considered for a moment that you would.”
“I’m glad you came now, even though I wanted to scream at you when you walked in.”
“I got that impression.”
“That’s why I left the room back there. I didn’t want to make things worse. It’s been so damned hard.”
“Thank you for calling. I honestly didn’t get the messages.”
“I know. He said so.”
As tears came to Therese’s eyes, she glanced left and right, up and down—like she was giving herself an eye exam—so that none fell. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed them.”
“We’ve been empty since you left, too.” He tapped the tip of his cigarette on the bottle’s open neck. “Some people are the heart of a family.”
“That’s Mom.”
“No.” Gareth looked over at her. “That’s you. That’s always been you. You keep us going, keep us organized. You’re…”
Clearing his throat sharply, he shifted his eyes down and then rubbed them hard, one by one, with the knuckles of his free hand. “Look, I can’t talk about this. It’s killing me, and I gotta pull it together for them—”
“Oh, Gareth,” she whispered as she reached for him.
Except as she went to give him a hug, he put a hand up and leaned out of range. “Nope. None of that. I’ve got to get a hold of myself.”
“I’m going to hug you later.”
“Fine. Just not now.”
Therese took her first full breath since the moment she’d marched out of her parents’ house. Gareth, on the other hand, seemed to still be struggling with his emotions.
Trying to change the subject, she murmured, “So you’ve been lifting a lot, huh.”
“I have.”
“How’s that female you were dating?”
He shook his head and kept his eyes on his cigarette. “She moved in right after you left, all ready to get mated. Like, are you kidding me? My family is imploding and you want to talk about the color theme of some reception out of the human tradition? It was a disaster.”
“I’m sorry to hear that—”
“Here’s what really bothered me,” he said, looking up and staring directly into her eyes. “This is what got me about Mom.” He pointed his rabbit-eared hold on the Marlboro at her. “You never gave her a chance to explain. You never got the story from her. You were so busy yelling and being all angry that she didn’t have the opportunity to tell her side of the story. What’s more, you acted like she owed you an apology for taking you in and giving you a home and caring for you all these years. That was what bothered me.”
“I was blindsided. I didn’t ever expect it. I thought… they were my parents, Gareth. You never tried to understand where I was coming from.”
“You didn’t know they weren’t your parents because they were.”
Therese put a hand on his now-thick forearm. “As you aren’t in my position, you need to trust me about how it made me feel. I’m not saying I handled things well, but I know what it felt like, okay.”
He cursed. Went quiet for a bit. “You’re right. I apologize. And I didn’t behave any better. I just was worried about Mahmen and worried about you as well. I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to take care of you.”
“I need to take care of myself.”
“No one can go it alone in this world, Milk Dud.”
Therese started to smile, remembering how they had always given each other random nicknames. “Does this mean I can call you Ricola again?”
“I got an even better one for you.” He pointed to his foot. “I dropped a weight on this thing a week ago. Right before we left to come here. Healed badly so now I’m wearing an orthotic.”
“Oh, my God. I’m calling you Dr. Scholl’s from now on.”
The slow smile on her brother’s face was so nice to see. “Good deal. Good deal.”
Therese tilted forward and looked at the double doors of the ICU. “So Dad says she’s been intubated for the last two nights.”
“Pretty much right after we arrived here. We got her admitted in a nick of time.”
“Do you think she’d want to talk to me?” Therese wondered out loud. “Maybe it would give her a reason to come back.”
Gareth shrugged. “Anything. At this point, I’ll take anything I can get. The idea of death separating those two? It doesn’t bear thinking about. If she dies, we’re going to lose Dad, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The good thing about it being a Monday night, iAm thought, was that his fucked-up head didn’t have to function: It wasn’t required to coordinate his hands and arms, his memory or his reading skills, so he could cook food over a hot stove. He could just sit here in his office and stare at the paperwork. o;Gareth?” She glanced across. “Anything in particular?”
Her brother took a drag off his cigarette and then exhaled while shaking his head. “I’ll eat anything. Dad’s the same.”
“Roger that.”
When Trez hesitated, she answered the is-it-appropriate by making the move to kiss him.
“See you in a little bit,” she said as their lips met briefly.
“Yup, you will.” He ditched his cigarette butt in a soda bottle, then got to his feet. “Later, Gareth.”
“Later.”
Therese watched her male go—and was aware that the vibe changed immediately. But at least her brother didn’t seem overtly hostile.
“How long you been seeing him?” Gareth asked as he dropped his own butt into that bottle. Before the hissing had even faded, he was lighting another.
“They let you smoke out here?”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not. Honest.” She sighed. “So how you been? And not long. To answer your question about the dating thing.”
“So he’s not why you picked Caldwell.”
“No, I met him here. His brother is the chef at the restaurant where I work.”
“Seems like a nice guy.”
“He is.”
Before the pause became a silence that grew long and awkward, she took a deep breath and jumped into it all.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Her brother’s yellow eyes twitched, and she braced herself for an argument. Instead, he just shook his head. For a while.
Sitting beside him, she gave him the space and time he needed to sort his emotions out. And she appreciated that he didn’t do a rant-and-rave that would accomplish nothing and exhaust them both.
“I just really…” He started and didn’t finish. Started again. “I just couldn’t believe you would abandon us. You didn’t just leave them… you left me, and whatever, I know you’re my sister, but you’re a friend, too. My roommate. You know. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re only saying that because it does.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He took another drag. “I need to stop smoking. Thank God vampires don’t get cancer—and no, I absolutely do not do it anywhere around Mom.”
“I never even considered for a moment that you would.”
“I’m glad you came now, even though I wanted to scream at you when you walked in.”
“I got that impression.”
“That’s why I left the room back there. I didn’t want to make things worse. It’s been so damned hard.”
“Thank you for calling. I honestly didn’t get the messages.”
“I know. He said so.”
As tears came to Therese’s eyes, she glanced left and right, up and down—like she was giving herself an eye exam—so that none fell. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed them.”
“We’ve been empty since you left, too.” He tapped the tip of his cigarette on the bottle’s open neck. “Some people are the heart of a family.”
“That’s Mom.”
“No.” Gareth looked over at her. “That’s you. That’s always been you. You keep us going, keep us organized. You’re…”
Clearing his throat sharply, he shifted his eyes down and then rubbed them hard, one by one, with the knuckles of his free hand. “Look, I can’t talk about this. It’s killing me, and I gotta pull it together for them—”
“Oh, Gareth,” she whispered as she reached for him.
Except as she went to give him a hug, he put a hand up and leaned out of range. “Nope. None of that. I’ve got to get a hold of myself.”
“I’m going to hug you later.”
“Fine. Just not now.”
Therese took her first full breath since the moment she’d marched out of her parents’ house. Gareth, on the other hand, seemed to still be struggling with his emotions.
Trying to change the subject, she murmured, “So you’ve been lifting a lot, huh.”
“I have.”
“How’s that female you were dating?”
He shook his head and kept his eyes on his cigarette. “She moved in right after you left, all ready to get mated. Like, are you kidding me? My family is imploding and you want to talk about the color theme of some reception out of the human tradition? It was a disaster.”
“I’m sorry to hear that—”
“Here’s what really bothered me,” he said, looking up and staring directly into her eyes. “This is what got me about Mom.” He pointed his rabbit-eared hold on the Marlboro at her. “You never gave her a chance to explain. You never got the story from her. You were so busy yelling and being all angry that she didn’t have the opportunity to tell her side of the story. What’s more, you acted like she owed you an apology for taking you in and giving you a home and caring for you all these years. That was what bothered me.”
“I was blindsided. I didn’t ever expect it. I thought… they were my parents, Gareth. You never tried to understand where I was coming from.”
“You didn’t know they weren’t your parents because they were.”
Therese put a hand on his now-thick forearm. “As you aren’t in my position, you need to trust me about how it made me feel. I’m not saying I handled things well, but I know what it felt like, okay.”
He cursed. Went quiet for a bit. “You’re right. I apologize. And I didn’t behave any better. I just was worried about Mahmen and worried about you as well. I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to take care of you.”
“I need to take care of myself.”
“No one can go it alone in this world, Milk Dud.”
Therese started to smile, remembering how they had always given each other random nicknames. “Does this mean I can call you Ricola again?”
“I got an even better one for you.” He pointed to his foot. “I dropped a weight on this thing a week ago. Right before we left to come here. Healed badly so now I’m wearing an orthotic.”
“Oh, my God. I’m calling you Dr. Scholl’s from now on.”
The slow smile on her brother’s face was so nice to see. “Good deal. Good deal.”
Therese tilted forward and looked at the double doors of the ICU. “So Dad says she’s been intubated for the last two nights.”
“Pretty much right after we arrived here. We got her admitted in a nick of time.”
“Do you think she’d want to talk to me?” Therese wondered out loud. “Maybe it would give her a reason to come back.”
Gareth shrugged. “Anything. At this point, I’ll take anything I can get. The idea of death separating those two? It doesn’t bear thinking about. If she dies, we’re going to lose Dad, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The good thing about it being a Monday night, iAm thought, was that his fucked-up head didn’t have to function: It wasn’t required to coordinate his hands and arms, his memory or his reading skills, so he could cook food over a hot stove. He could just sit here in his office and stare at the paperwork.