Tessa Ever After

by Brighton Walsh

  “Lawrence . . .”

  With a careless hand, my father waves off my mother’s rebuke, not sparing her a glance. “January second, Jason. Not a day longer. I’m tired of waiting for you to come around and stop this bullshit of playing computer games or whatever the hell it is they have you do at that arts and crafts school. It’s time you stopped acting like a spoiled child and stepped up to take your place at the company.”

  TWO

  jason

  I stalk out the front door of my parents’ house, letting it slam shut behind me, muttering every swear word I can think of as I head straight to my car. Really, their ultimatum doesn’t come as a shock. In fact, I’m surprised it’s taken them this long to institute some sort of deadline. After all, it doesn’t look good in their circles to have a twenty-four-year-old son still in college—not unless he’s getting his MBA or doctorate.

  And even now, even with them pushing me to get my master’s, they’ll still be embarrassed of everything I’ve done . . . of the path I’ve taken to get where I am.

  While I know I’ve got it good—parents paying for my degree, as well as all my bills—it’s not what I’d pick if I were given a choice. Growing up, I’d have given anything to be part of either of my best friends’ families. Both Cade’s and Adam’s parents made it a point to be involved in the lives of their kids. Made it a point to talk about more than getting straight A’s, college prep courses, what the stock of the company was doing . . . I can’t even remember the last time either one of my parents asked me a question that actually gave them insight into my life. Or asked a question and waited for an honest reply. The only time I got even a semblance of that kind of affection was with my grandfather before he passed away—a man my father couldn’t stand because he thought he was weak. Weak because he wasn’t running a multimillion-dollar firm. Because he “threw away” his profits to help others. Because he was an honest and decent man, something my father knows nothing about.

  I peel out of my parents’ long, circular drive, uncaring of the tire marks I no doubt left, and I don’t even realize where I’m heading until I see the familiar streets. For as long as I can remember, this place has always felt like home, much more than mine ever did. It’s different now that Cade’s gone, but a sense of relief still settles over me whenever I walk through the door.

  It’s not too late—the clock on my dash showing just before eight—and I hope I’m early enough to catch Haley before she goes to bed. If anyone can make me smile, it’s that little girl. While it’s a bit jarring to realize just how much I’ve grown attached to her in the months since Cade left, I can’t argue with the truth.

  Tessa’s car is out front, and I head for the back door, twisting the knob like always, only to find it’s locked. Since Cade’s been gone, Tessa’s been more diligent about locking up—something her brother probably beat into her head before he went. I knock softly in case Haley is sleeping, but after a few minutes with no answer, I dig out my keys, using the spare I’ve had for years to let myself in.

  The scent of fried food greets me, and a glance in the kitchen shows leftover chicken nuggets and a few fries on a small princess plate. Definitely a change of pace from the days when Cade was living here. He’d have a coronary if he knew what Tess has been feeding his niece.

  I walk through the dark hallway to get to the living room, stopping short at what I see. Haley’s in front of the TV, markers spread out around her as she draws some pictures. When she turns around to look at me, I jolt in surprise at the state of her face, but I don’t have time to say anything before she rushes me.

  “Jay!” Her mouth splits into a full smile as she hops up from the floor and barrels straight into me. I catch her and scoop her into my arms, careful to not get whatever the hell she has all over her face on my clothes.

  “Hey, shorty. What’s, uh, what’s all this?” I ask, gesturing to her eyelids and cheeks and lips painted in too many colors to count.

  Instead of answering, she looks down, avoiding my eyes.

  “Haley . . .”

  She leans in and whispers in my ear, “I found Mama’s makeup.”

  Oh shit. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the many years I’ve known Tessa, it’s that her makeup and whatever hair product shit she brings home are off-limits. And anyone who touches them is taking their lives into their own hands. She’s been like that since she was a teenager, and it’s only gotten worse since she went to cosmetology school. Haley clearly did this without permission.

  “Okay,” I say, my voice even. “And where is your mom?”

  She twists in my arms and points to the couch. I walk to it and peer over the back, finding a passed-out Tessa lying there, still in her all-black clothes from the salon, one arm covering her eyes, the other hanging off the side of the couch.

  “How long’s your mom been asleep?”

  “Since Doc McStuffins started.” Her eyes well up as she looks at me, her bottom lip quivering. Her voice is shaky as she asks, “You’re not gonna tell her, are ya?”

  I probably should. Grown-up solidarity and all that, but I have a soft spot for Haley. And I’m not much for being a grown-up. “Nah, it can be our little secret. Let’s get you cleaned up and to bed. It’s late and you have school tomorrow.”

  If Tessa fell asleep and managed to stay that way through the blare of some of the most obnoxious cartoons known to man, as well as Haley’s and my conversation, she must be tired. I’ll let her catch a bit more sleep while I get the munchkin ready for bed. I carry Haley down the hall, grabbing a washcloth out of the linen closet before heading into the bathroom. When she’s perched on the counter, I turn on the water to warm it up, then start the daunting task of getting this shit off her face. She looks like a goddamn clown, her cheeks bright pink, her lips covered in red lipstick spread down to her chin, green crap all around her eyes.

  I shake my head. “How long did this take you?”

  “I dunno.”

  “You know you’re not supposed to get into your mom’s stuff, right?”

  Head hanging, she pouts. “Yeah.”

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “Just once.”

  “I bet you got in trouble, too, didn’t you?”

  “Please don’t tell her, Jay.” Her bottom lip quivers, and this time the tears roll, fat and plentiful, down her rosy cheeks. One look into those dark brown eyes and I’m a goner. I always thought she was a cool kid, but that was about it—a cool kid I saw every once in a while. Ever since Cade left, though, she’s clung to me, and in the process gotten me wrapped around her little finger.

  “I won’t, but only if you promise me something.”

  “I promise.”

  I laugh, wiping at the mess over her eyes. “I haven’t even told you what it is yet.”

  “I still promise.”

  “Are you sure? Because I was going to make you promise to play Transformers with me every day for a week instead of your tea parties.”

  Her mouth drops open, her eyes comically wide.

  “Just kidding. But you can’t do this again.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it, shorty. Not again.”

  “Promise.” She holds out her pinky for me to shake—some girlie thing that apparently means it’s serious business—and I hook mine in hers.

  “All right. Now, let’s get you changed and then I’ll read a story.”

  “Two stories.”

  “One, but nice try.”

  She looks off to the side, clearly thinking about how she can get something extra out of me. “’Kay, one, but with funny voices.”

  “Deal.”

  • • •

  ONCE HALEY IS in her pajamas and I’ve read a story and tucked her into bed, I head back into the living room, finding a still-sleeping Tessa curled up on the couch. Her mouth is parted, her lower lip pouty and full and taunting the hell out of me. Her breaths are even and deep and, though I try to stop it, though I try to tell myself
not to look, the movement draws my eyes right to her chest. I glance away quickly, though not before getting an eyeful, frustrated and irritated with myself that I can’t seem to get past this sudden, overwhelming attraction to her. Though sudden isn’t entirely accurate. It’s been building for longer than I’d care to admit, even before Cade left. And in the months since he’s been gone, it’s only grown, as much as I’ve tried to stop it.

  Feeling guilty that this is Cade’s little sister—the same girl I’ve known since I was nine years old . . . the same girl Cade asked me to look after like she was my sister—I force myself to turn around and then start cleaning up the small mess Haley left, capping her markers and putting her drawing station where it belongs. Once that’s done, I go into the kitchen and put the leftovers away. I see only Haley’s plate and wonder if Tessa got anything to eat. And then I wonder why I’m even thinking about it in the first place.

  When everything’s put away, I make my way over to the couch to try and rouse Tessa. She sleeps like the dead—always has. I should be ashamed of some of the shit Cade, Adam, and I did to her when we were younger. Basically every practical joke you could play on a sleeping person was in our weekend repertoires for too many years to count. I don’t think she’s ever forgiven us for making her wet the bed when she was fourteen. And thinking that only reiterates how much more like a sister she should be to me than a girl I fantasize about when I jack off.

  I squat beside the couch so I’m eye-level with her. Once I’m close enough, I notice the faint bruises under her eyes, the exhaustion cloaking her face, even in sleep. Her short, dark hair is falling over one of her eyes, and I have to physically restrain myself from reaching out and pushing it behind her ear. I scrub a hand over my face, forcing myself to get a fucking grip. What in the hell is wrong with me?

  Dropping my hand, I grab hers and give it a little squeeze. She doesn’t move, her eyelids not even fluttering. Knowing I won’t be able to wake her, short of tossing ice water on her face, I bend and lift her easily from the couch. As I walk down the hallway toward her bedroom, I force myself to think of a thousand different things other than how her body feels pressed against mine. How her thighs feel under my arm, under my hand. How sweet the scent of her shampoo is and how she presses her face into my chest, trying to get closer.

  Though it’s not me she’s trying to get closer to. She’s subconsciously reaching for something—or someone—and it’s definitely not me.

  Once I get her set on the bed, I turn on her bedside lamp, then take her shoes off and toss them to the side. Even that simple act has me thinking of all the other items I’d like to remove from her body, and just like that I’m hard as a rock. Closing my eyes, I hiss out a curse and shake my head, pissed at myself for thinking this shit and pissed at my dick for being happy about it.

  When I’ve talked my cock down and have myself under control, I try to shift her so I can get the covers out from underneath her. I jostle her enough that she finally rouses and turns toward me, her eyes fluttering once before she bolts upright, her forehead knocking me right in the chin.

  “Jesusfuck!”

  “Ow!” she groans as she presses her fingers to her forehead. “Jason? God, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing in here?” She glances around the room, then down at her clothes before she checks the time. “It’s almost nine? Shit, I have to get Haley ready for bed. I must’ve fallen asleep.” She moves to get up, but I stop her, dropping on the end of her bed as I rub my chin where she whacked me.

  “It’s all right. I took care of it.”

  She snaps her head toward me, her eyebrows raised. “You did?” At my nod, she asks, “How long have you been here?”

  “About an hour.”

  Her mouth drops open. “An hour? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “Could I have woken you up? Besides, I figured there was a reason you were passed out on the couch, so I thought I’d let you sleep. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “God, I am failing left and right today,” she says as she falls back on the bed, her head on her pillow. The defeat bleeding into her voice is unmistakable.

  “What do you mean you’re failing left and right today?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  I raise an eyebrow, staying silent as I stare her down. We’ve played this game before, and I always win.

  With a huff, she says, “I was late getting Haley from day care . . . again. Melinda says if it happens anymore, she’s going to start charging me the tardy fees. And it’s not even the money, you know? It’s that I can’t even get there to pick Haley up in the first place.” She shakes her head, her arm going over her eyes. “I just feel like such a failure since Cade left. And I love that he went—hell, I pushed him to go. I didn’t want him here anymore, not when he had that amazing opportunity. But . . . it’s hard. I mean, I fed Haley frozen chicken nuggets for dinner tonight because I didn’t have time to cook anything decent. Last night was boxed mac and cheese. The night before, Spaghettios. Meanwhile, Cade always had dinner worthy of a five-star restaurant ready for us every night.”

  “Cade’s a chef, Tess.”

  She drops her arm to the bed as she looks at me again. “Doesn’t matter. Every day, I feel a little worse about how I’ve been handling—or not handling—everything since he left. One of these days I’m going to wake up with a World’s Shittiest Mom trophy next to my bed.”

  “Oh Jesus.”

  “Don’t ‘oh Jesus’ me.” She shoves her foot into my thigh, kicking me lightly. “I’m telling you how I feel. You don’t get to poke and prod and push me to open up and then roll your eyes when I finally do. You wanted it, so you get the full brunt of it now.”

  I concede with a nod. “Fine. What else?”

  She blows out a deep breath, her eyes on the ceiling. “I was just blind to everything he did for us, I guess. Which makes me a shitty sister on top of everything else. I feel like such an ass.”

  I roll my eyes—can’t help it. She always was one for dramatics. “You’re not an ass, Tess, or a shitty sister. And you’re sure as hell not a shitty mom. Yeah, Cade did a lot when he was here, but you had one hundred percent of the responsibility heaped on you in a week when he was suddenly gone. Give yourself some time to acclimate.”

  “I maybe could’ve bought that back in June or even July, but it’s been five months, Jason. Five months. I should have my shit together by now.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You do a hell of a lot more than I ever could. It took me forty-five damn minutes just to get Haley in her pajamas and get her teeth brushed.”

  That finally pulls a smile from her. “Yeah, she needs a lot of direction at bedtime,” she says with a laugh. “Thanks, by the way. She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”

  “Nah, she’s a good kid.”

  Her smile grows into the kind that lights up her whole face, and once again I’m struck by how fucking gorgeous she is. I don’t know when she went from being annoying Tess, younger sister to my best friend, to being this . . . hot, amazing woman who I’d prefer wasn’t related to any of my friends. It would sure make these near-constant and almost always inappropriate thoughts easier to handle.

  “Thanks, I think so, too.” She yawns, stretching out as she tucks her feet between my thigh and the mattress, and the easy physical affection between us is just another reminder of why I need to get my shit together and stop thinking about her under me in my bed. “Why’d you come over, anyway?”

  The reminder of what happened before I came here is like a bucket of ice water down my pants. Closing my eyes, I groan and scrub a hand over my face.

  “Uh-oh . . . only one thing gets the always-unshakable Jason that frustrated. Dinner at your parents’, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “What happened now?”

  I lie back on the bed and prop myself up on my elbows, turning my head to her. “They gave me an ultimatum. I have till the end of the semester to finish up my undergrad, then it
’s off to get my master’s in architecture or they’re cutting me off.”

  Her mouth pops open as she stares at me. “Seriously?”

  I nod. “They found out I’ve got enough credits to graduate if I’d just declare a major, so they’re not buying my bullshit anymore. No more putting off the inevitable. But, hey, I had a good solid five years of avoidance. Time to pay my dues, right?”

  She’s quiet long enough for me to raise my eyebrow at her in question. When she still doesn’t say anything, I ask, “What’s with the silence?”

  “I don’t know . . .” she says, hesitancy in her voice, then waves her hand while shaking her head. “Nothing, never mind.”

  “Jesus, Tess, just spit it out.”

  “I just . . . I don’t get you. I mean, you’ve got this amazing job waiting for you after graduation, one most people fresh out of college—even after getting their master’s—would kill for, where you’ll probably make three times what I could ever even hope to make, and you’re moping around like a petulant child. And it was your grandpa’s firm . . . I thought working there would make you happy. What gives?”

  I snap my mouth shut, clenching my jaw and blowing a deep breath through my nose. “Look, I know how good I have it, okay? And I feel like a selfish asshole for not being grateful for it. But how would you like it if your whole future had already been mapped out for you from before you could even walk? It’s a lot of pressure. And not only that . . . Yeah, working for my grandpa’s firm would be awesome, if I could do it on my terms, but my dad won’t be satisfied with that. He won’t accept me working in their web division. More than that, though, the firm stopped being my grandpa’s when my dad got his claws in it, added a bunch of partners to boost revenue, and conveniently forgot about ethics. My grandpa is probably turning over in his grave at the shitshow my father has turned Montgomery International into.”