by Brea Viragh
“Have you ever stopped to think that I don’t care what other people think? I might be here because of Nolan, but I’m staying for you. When you look at me, you should know I would do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
I wanted to be the first one to walk away. Instead, Kai took the wind from my sails and pushed through the kitchen doors in a single movement. What’s worse, I hadn’t expected him to leave. My knees trembled when I slid to the floor, staring miserably at the house that was supposed to be safe. And now felt empty.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The hours passed in a blur. The day was filled with avoidance: me and my mother, me and Kai, and stranger yet, me and Nolan. Whenever I heard the sound of footsteps coming closer, I’d make for the nearest room. Once the weather improved I would get the hell out and never look back. So I would be clever until then and prepare for my escape while I dealt with being trapped by the snow.
Those living in the country had grown accustomed to hauling in wood and closing the doors tight when ice fell from the sky. Curran prepared by stocking the woodstove and eating any leftovers he could get his hands on.
Thessaly took advantage of the situation. Knowing her, she had probably cast a spell for the power to go out in hopes it would up the romance factor. Tonight, she’d planned a romantic candlelit dinner, with red candles lining the dining room table. Red, red, red. Red for passion.
I found her baking in the kitchen. My stomach growled and I couldn’t think straight enough to keep up the show.
“This is for you,” she told me briskly. “I’m going to teach you how to cook.”
“No. Absolutely not.” There was a ripple of unease echoing through my body. Each time I thought about backtracking, taking the coward’s way out, I felt disappointed in myself, and my feet remained rooted.
“I don’t blame you for your lack of skills, Nell, but I definitely blame you for being unwilling to learn.” Thessaly retrieved a package from the refrigerator and handed it to me to open. “I want you to make shrimp and couscous with a spicy lime scampi sauce,” she told me. “We’re going to stick with our Greek theme. I’ll handle the rest if you can get the main course right. Don’t be scared, I’ll help you.”
I stared at the little alien creatures. For all intents and purposes, they were aliens, bug-eyed with long, gangly antennas. “I’ll ruin it. There’s no way I’m going to take responsibility for feeding the tribe tonight.”
The sound of footsteps jolted me and I turned to look over my shoulder, watched Nolan come in. He took one look at me, standing near the stove with the package of shrimp, and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Please tell me this isn’t what I think.” He moaned, bulging his eyes out like a bad-tempered twelve-year-old, which, in terms of his flair for drama, wasn’t far off the mark.
“Go get some paper from the hutch and take notes.” Thessaly pointed, taking the shrimp from my hands and slapping it down on a plate.
I felt trapped yet again, and caught myself ready with an insult to counter the claustrophobia. “This is going to be a disaster.” The imploring look I sent Nolan had little effect. “Little brother, please…”
Normally he would have been more than happy to step in and direct Thessaly’s attention somewhere else. I expected him to jump to my aid the way I had for him these past nights. Instead, he pulled up a chair and avoided my gaze. “I think this is fantastic. Think of all the weight I’ll lose from dysentery. Good thing we have more than one toilet.”
My palms were damp. I hastily wiped them on my pants. “You’re serious?”
“Oh absolutely,” Nolan answered without shame. “I’m going to sit here and enjoy every minute of it, too.”
“Let me assure everyone that this will not be pretty.” Because I wanted to slap him across his smug little face, I bit down on my lip and turned to my mother. “What do you need me to do?”
I tried not to dwell on the situation. One night of cooking and I would be home-free. If it kept my mother’s ire and my brother’s bragging at bay, I would try my damnedest to make the best couscous in town.
“I’ll show both of you,” I muttered under my breath. Panic tried to strangle me and I countered it with temper. “You’re both a couple of assholes.”
“You can’t call Mom an asshole.” Nolan took perverse pleasure in my position and gripped his stomach on a laugh.
“Nolan, I swear to God.” I turned and gestured to him using a half-thawed shrimp, briny water dripping onto the floor. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll gut you next.”
Thessaly shifted to stare at her son. “Nolan, get out. You’re not helping.”
“I want to stay and watch while she sets the house on fire.”
My temper bubbled to a satisfying boil. “Go back to school, you prissy bitch.”
“Nell, language! Nolan, out, now.”
He took his time exiting the room, walking slowly to the door, each step costing a year of his life next time I could get my hands on him.
“I don’t mind your being rude. He deserved that,” Thessaly admitted the moment Nolan was out of earshot. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“I love you, Mom, but I hate how you corner me. Please don’t mess with me right now. I have a knife, fair warning.” I should stick my head out the door and use the snow to ease the pain in my head.
“You’re angry, and I’m sure you think I deserve it. But listen to me. And take the tails off the shrimp before you put them in the pan. Your father hates the crunch.”
I wondered where her involvement ended and whether she was willing to risk our relationship for her meddling. “You’ve given me no choice. I’m listening.”
“He’s sexy, you know.” Thessaly reached into her pocket for a ribbon and lifted her hair off her neck.
Kai. Of course. How did I not know this was coming? “I don’t want to hear your opinion.”
“You can see it for yourself, obviously, but the two of you are a good match. You deserve a man who will step up and take care of you. One you can trust. He’s proven himself time and again.”
I cocked a hip and tapped my fingers on the counter. “It’s easy for you to say. You have no idea what I’ve been through. You have your place here, with your husband and your garden, and you don’t have to question yourself. You don’t have to fight against this constant push and pull. Everyone bows to you and lets you do what you want.”
“Yes, I have a good routine,” Thessaly said carefully, “but it was hard-earned. I want the same for you. I’m helping.”
“Yeah,” I mocked. “You’re helping by bringing up my emotionally abusive ex-boyfriend and comparing everyone to him.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” came the slow, careful response.
“I made a mistake with Peter. You have no idea how he screwed with me, and to hear you laud him like he was a gift— He wasn’t, Mom. He wanted me to be his toy, his pet, his possession, to be available at his beck and call.”
I ran a clammy hand over my forehead. She had to understand. If this was our time to talk, standing here side by side, then perhaps I could get Thessaly to take her first step. “It got to the point where he told me he needed money for his bills and I paid them. He argued with me when I asked for the money back. I didn’t tell you all the details, but that’s how your Precious Peter treated me.”
“Sweetheart.” She took a step toward me, reaching to draw me closer. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
I spoke into her bosom. “I’m glad to hear you apologize.”
“I don’t know the details, true, and I realize it’s not easy rebuilding.” She was too calm. “This isn’t about Peter. This is about you.” Thessaly leaned back and smiled, enjoying our chat. Probably because she felt she was in a good position to wear down my defenses. Her voice, musical and lightly colored with gracious charm, ate at my last nerve. “You don’t want to hear it from me, but you’re getting older, honey. There’s an available man in the next room who, if you
cared to pay attention, couldn’t take his eyes off of you all during dinner.”
Despite my resolve, my steely core, a tendril of heat burst to life inside. “You’re enjoying this,” I said defiantly when she kept me close.
Imagine, Thessaly and I having a conversation that didn’t result in a yelling match. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been able to enjoy each other’s company.
Sipping her ubiquitous herbal tea, Thessaly raised a single eyebrow. She knew I waged an internal war. I’d learned the art of opposition at her knee. “You know better.”
“Do I? You want to know more of the details, Mom? So you can look me in the eye and tell me again how this isn’t about Peter? You raised me to be a doormat, a victim waiting to be exploited. It was my first serious relationship and I ended up mentally abused and trapped by someone else’s idea of who I should be.” I shivered, holding my arms across my chest.
My admittance broke her composure and she stared at me. “I never want to see you upset. You know I love you.”
I threw my hands in the air, falling to pieces. “Really? You’ve spent the better part of my life keeping me upset. It’s an ongoing affair you can’t quit.”
Thessaly tapped a finger against her top lip, considering me. Both the lip and the nail were unpainted, her face free of adornment and nary a ring in sight. She walked away from me to stare out the window. “You think so?”
“I do.”
Thessaly started to speak, then closed her mouth. It shocked the hell out of me when she walked over and hooked an arm around my waist. “I’m sorry, baby.”
For a minute, I couldn’t move. “Are you going to tell me about your plan?”
“There’s no plan, Nell, not anymore. I know you’re worried that I have an objective.”
“You always do.”
“This time I don’t. You can do your own choosing.”
There was something else going on, I was sure. It wasn’t clear yet but I sensed a second motive slithering around the edges.
Thessaly drew away with a low chuckle. “Nothing has turned out the way I wanted.”
I offered her the bowl of peeled and de-veined shrimp. “Welcome to the club. Now, teach me how to cook.”
**
I burned the damn sauce, which came as no surprise. This sauce I would remember apart from the countless others in my wake. With this one, I would recall the glittering flakes of white beginning to dot the sky as more snow threatened.
Left to my own devices, and with the worst palate in the house, I struggled to finish the meal, the couscous scorching and the scampi emitting the acrid bitterness of too much acidity from the lime juice.
Hands wrapped around my waist and dragged me back until I pressed against hard male muscles.
My nerves jangled, but I ordered a deep breath and admonished myself to remain calm. “This is ridiculous. She says she’s going to teach me how to cook and then she walks off to go play in her greenhouse. It’s a joke. A bad joke. I thought she’d changed, but she only told me what I wanted to hear. I’m a fool.”
Kai traced the line of my ear with his chin. “You know, my first foster mother couldn’t cook worth a damn either. And her husband was more concerned with his fishing rods than us kids. I learned to cook on my own.”
“I’m sure you know more than I do.”
“Yeah, but I don’t look half as good in an apron as you do.”
I shook my head, stilling when he placed a kiss on the soft skin beneath my ear. “Stop it.”
“It’s true. You make quite a picture at the stove. A man could get used to coming home and seeing you.”
“Even when he gets food poisoning?”
He moved away and took my hand. “You need to stop the crazy madman stirring and let it settle. Then we’ll taste and see what we can do.”
“How could she leave me alone? I don’t know what I’m doing!” Frustration had tears burning the corners of my eyes. I’d wanted to impress everyone with my new knowledge. No matter how hard I tried or who tried to teach me the right way to do things, I couldn’t make a meal. I depended on microwave dinners and takeout, not to mention the kindness of others, to get by.
Kai listened, and I somehow knew he would always listen when I needed an ear. “Calm down and try not to get upset. We’ll fix the sauce. Although the couscous is…” He trailed off.
I flung the pot back until it hit the rear of the stove. “I don’t care about the couscous.”
“I know.” He took me in his arms when I would have lost it. We both knew it wasn’t about the meal. I’d reached the end of what I could tolerate.
I felt it when Kai’s lips curved against my hair, his chin resting on top of my head. “I’ll help you.”
“I don’t want your help.” A thrill zipped through my head and straight down to my heart when he placed kisses along my hairline.
“We all have our baggage. Let’s put it aside for now and focus on this shrimp before you overcook them too.”
“It’s too late. They’re six feet under and then some.”
Kai chuckled, his arms tightening once before releasing me. “Then we better revive the rest before we all get food poisoning.”
I managed a small guffaw. “Why aren’t you in the other room preparing for the executioner?”
“Because I’d rather be in here with you.”
I faced the stove again, nose wrinkling at the sight of the brown, burned sauce. “I don’t think we can salvage it.”
“Watch.” Kai grabbed the pot handle and, with a quick peek to make sure we were alone, dumped the contents down the drain. Switching the faucet on, I watched the water drain away the rest of my mistake.
I ignored the clutch in my stomach when he turned to smile at me, the gesture filled with joy. “Now, grab the lemon and let’s get to work. Every minute counts and we have people to impress.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next morning, waking up to the same snowy landscape with thick chunks still falling from the sky, I almost didn’t get out of bed. A front had brought moisture to the mountains from the south, and collided with cold air from the north. A recipe for ruin. Restless, I tugged my pillow close and studied the ends, where loose threads held the edges together.
The sheets were a throwback from a better time and kept safe for the last fifteen years in a cedar closet, away from moths. I’d pushed for new sheets, ones my grandmother hadn’t given away because she felt them to be too threadbare and old, but Thessaly insisted on keeping them. An uncharacteristic bit of sentimentality.
I turned from the pillow to watch fat flakes erupt from the endless gray. Winter had come too soon and was going strong.
Eventually I made my way from the room, ready to take a step down the stairs when Nolan grabbed my arm and yanked me into his room.
“You’re awake,” he said in a harried whisper.
I rubbed my elbow and looked around at the chaos and clutter. “Jeez, yes.”
Nolan poked his head around the corner then shut the door behind us. “I’m going out of my mind.”
Despite the hour and the bruises left on my skin from his grip, I was happy to have him speaking to me again. “Yeah, I know.”
Nolan was an outgoing, vivacious, and proud homosexual, always put-together and neat as the organizational shelf at an office store, but that image didn’t mesh with his room. Here the vibe was laid-back casual. In other words, messy. It was a stretch to find clean space on the floor to walk.
“We’re living in the Gospel of Thessaly.” He moved a step closer. “And her making us sit around the table and eat the joke of a dinner you prepared was the last straw. I would have been happier with crackers and a can of tuna fish.”
Our faces were inches apart. “Wow, I’m glad we could have this chat first thing in the morning,” I said, keeping my tone mild and un-threatening. Feeling exposed to the chill, I drew my sweater closer. “You dragged me in here to insult my culinary skills? I mean, I’m happy you want
to talk to me, but your topic of conversation is weak.”
“No, I wanted to get you alone. We haven’t had a chance to catch up, Nellie.” Here was the little boy again, with a head full of endless brown curls and the toothy smile that had always made my heart feel dangerously gooey. I was sad to say his act wasn’t going to work on me this morning.
“I’ve been doing what I can to sidestep the drama. Sorry,” I said.
“Including avoiding me?”
“Especially you.”
“Hating on me isn’t going to get us through these snow days.” He put his hand lightly on my back and his voice was friendly once more. “I have a plan.”
“Can I at least go downstairs and get my coffee first?”
“No. I have a plan for us. And it involves—”
The knock on the door had us both jumping out of our skins. “Yoo-hoo!”
“The woman doesn’t give up,” I muttered. Stepping over a pile of dirty clothes and who knows what, I twisted the knob.
“What?” Nolan shouted.
The door swung open to reveal our mother in all her morning glory. Hastily buttoned silk kimono and a matching crimson ribbon wound through the dreadlocks on the side of her head. “There you are! I want to have a winter wood walk to get our spirits up again.” Thessaly mimed tromping through the weather. Way too perky for this hour of the morning. She was earthy. Spirited. Heartless. “Get our blood pumping. Doesn’t it sound fun?”
Sandwiched between the two of them, I could think of about five different things that would be better, including the scenes from several popular horror movies.
I grabbed my stomach, moaning and shaking my head. “Ugh, diarrhea. Be right back.”
**
“What are you doing in the trunk?”
I blinked against the sudden brightness, the foggy images in front of me gradually morphing into a familiar face instead of two blurs.
