I snort. “As short as humanly possible. I don’t think Miranda will mind one bit if we drive three hours there, eat and then drive all the way back home in the same day.”
“That’s good,” Tyler says, grabbing his shirt off the nightstand and tugging it over his head. “Because Marcus and I would love to have you guys at our Thanksgiving.”
I lift any eyebrow. “There’s no way I can make two dinners in one day. It’s too far of a drive.”
“No worries. We have a tradition here. Family Thanksgiving on Thursday and then friend Thanksgiving on Friday. Marcus and some of our buddies all get together and grill, drink beer, you know, the usual.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “It’s a way to detox from all the annoying family time. Y’all will have fun. I promise.”
I smile as a warm feeling washes over me. “That sounds awesome. How many people show up?” What I’m really thinking is how many girls show up, but I can’t ask that.
“Maybe five or seven. It’s all guys except for my buddy Beaux who got married last year. He moved away after college, but always comes back for Brosgiving.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Brosgiving?”
Tyler might actually blush. He runs a hand through his hair. “That’s what we called it in high school. But girlfriends are welcome, so you’re coming. This will be Marcus’s second year since we decided he was old enough to tag along.”
“Sounds fun,” I say. “Should I bring anything?”
I watch his gaze as it goes down my body and then back up to my eyes. “Just yourself.”
Miranda sulks in the passenger side of my car, her arms crossed over her belly. I can almost feel the flames of hatred rising off her, trying to light the car on fire. Okay, so I probably shouldn’t have forced her to go back to Houston with me for dinner with her mother who kind of hates her right now. I also probably shouldn’t have told a tiny little lie, saying that Maggie sounded cheerful and really wanted Miranda to come.
If I were Miranda, I’d hate me right now, too.
“Look,” I begin, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as I stare straight ahead on Interstate 45. “We were invited. That has to mean something, even if it’s not much. If Maggie hated you as much as you think she does, then she wouldn’t have called. Maybe this can be a good thing.”
“You hate her just as much as I do,” Miranda counters. “So why are you okay with this?”
I take a deep breath. She doesn't realize it, but I’m the grown up in this little two person family unit we’ve created. Pretty soon there will be a third member of our family and it’ll be tiny and defenseless and need to be taken care of every single second of the day. It’s time for me to wear my metaphorical grown up pants and make some grown up decisions around here.
“You can be pissed off all you want, but we’re going to your grandma’s for dinner and you’re going to see your mother and you’re going to suck it up and deal with it.” Miranda groans but I ignore her. “You’re a mother now, too, and you have to realize that I’m doing this for you. You need to make amends with Maggie and you need to start out your baby’s life on the right foot. Trust me, if you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be going today. I’m sick of Maggie and my mother is just an older clone of her. I’m doing this for you and one day, you’ll thank me.”
Miranda shuffles in her seat, the frown never leaving her face. I think about trying to pat her arm but she’s so angry she might just bite it off. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry we’re doing this. But I think it’s the right thing to do.”
“Maybe it won’t be so horrible,” she mutters, turning to look out the window.
I sigh and risk having my arm bitten off by patting her arm. “That’s the spirit.”
It’s only been three months but the entire city seems like it’s both changed and stayed exactly the same. The air smells weird now, like pollution and greasy fast food and metal and burnt rubber. Strange how I never noticed those things before. Like how the other drivers are total assholes on the road, weaving in and out of lanes without a single freaking care about any other driver on the road. It’s not like in Salt Gap, where people take turns letting other cars go ahead of them at a four way stop sign. No one waves at you as they drive by in Houston. People just pretend you don’t exist.
I’m feeling okay until I turn off the main highway and make a left into Mom’s neighborhood. It’s a community of older homes that were once the best homes in the city but are now in need of repair and mostly covered from view by massive oak trees. Now my stomach clenches and although I’m hungry after the three hour drive—starving actually—the thought of eating is the last thing on my mind.
Maggie’s Subaru is parked outside of Mom’s house. I pull up behind it and cut the engine. Miranda slumps down in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t want to do this,” she says.
“It’ll be fine.” I push open my car door and step out onto the driveway, feeling a little nostalgic for the place I spent my childhood. Maggie was hardly ever here because she’s so much older than I am. My adult memories of this town may not be so good, but at least my childhood ones are. Grandpa’s watch sags down my wrist as I close my car door and step around to the other side. I don’t even try to pull some kind of good energy off of the heirloom because I can’t think about Grandpa right now. This is the first Thanksgiving without him. It is too hard to think about that. So I don’t.
Miranda and I walk up to the front door. My niece practically vibrates with fear and I give her a little smile right before I ring the doorbell. Yeah, Maggie is a bitch but this is her daughter. She has to forgive her at some point. This will all be okay.
The door opens. The first thing I notice is the strong smell of wine. Then my sister appears, wearing a sweater dress that’s a little too tight, and too short. She’s holding a glass of red wine in the same color as her stained lips.
“Hello,” I say, trying to sound cheerful as I break the ice. Maggie’s lips press together while she takes in the sight of me and then her pregnant daughter. She lifts her wine glass to her lips.
“Well,” she says, taking another sip. “If it isn’t the quitter and the whore.”
Miranda stiffens. My mouth falls open. In the seconds that follow, Maggie steps to the side and opens the door wider. “Are you going to come inside or just stand there like idiots?” she says.
Miranda draws in a breath and takes a step forward, relenting to her mother’s command and hating every second of it. I grab her hand and pull her back. Before Maggie can say another wine-induced word, I push Miranda behind me. “Get in the car,” I say quickly, starting to run behind her.
“What are we—” she says, her eyes wide.
“Go!” I shout. “Get back in the car!”
Maggie’s voice calls after us. “What the hell..?” But I ignore her and grab my keys out of my pocket.
No one who insults us like that deserves our company.
And it’s time my sister learns that.
Chapter 11
Miranda doesn’t say a word for the first thirty minutes. That’s fine by me. My emotions are whirling with fifty kinds of anger. The sting of family betrayal runs deep, cutting through every fiber of my being. Every time I had shrugged my sister’s bitchiness off, telling myself it didn’t matter because she was family? That was all just a joke.
With Houston in my rear view mirror, I punch the radio button a little harder than necessary to turn it off. Miranda looks over at me.
“That wasn’t our family,” I say, trying to think of the right words to express what I’m feeling. “Just because you’re blood related to someone doesn’t mean you have to love them.” I glance at my niece briefly before turning my attention back to the road. “You and me? We’re family. I have your back, no matter what.”
“I know, Aunt Robin,” Miranda says quietly. “Thank you.”
I shake my head because I’m not even close to being finished with what I’m trying to tell her. “It’s you and me now. It�
��s you and me and that unborn precious baby and I love both of you. I will be here for you just like Grandpa was for me. I’ll never treat you the way your mother did. Never. I will always be on your side.”
“I will always be on your side, too.”
We exchange sad smiles. I glance at the nearest mile marker and realize we still have a couple of hours to go, which sucks because all I want to do is curl up on my bed and sleep away the holiday. “I’m sorry this happened,” I say it, not just to Miranda but also to myself.
We slip into silence again, which probably isn’t good for my mental stability. Because when we’re quiet, I keep going back to that moment on my mother’s front steps and I keep replying what Maggie said to us. I think of a hundred million things I could have said or done in that situation besides running away. I can almost feel the satisfaction I would have gotten from slapping her across the face. My cell phone rings, taking me out of my daydream. I grab it from the cup holder and answer the call after checking to make sure the caller wasn’t anyone related to me.
“Hello.” My jaw hurts from how tightly I’d been clenching my teeth.
“Hey there,” Tyler says, sounding cheerful and like he’s been enjoying his holiday. Well, good for him. “Marcus texted me something about you guys coming home earlier than expected? Are you okay? Is your car running okay?”
“We’re fine.” My eyes dart to Miranda and she shrinks under my glare. “You texted Marcus?” I whisper. She bites her lip and nods. “Sorry.”
“Robin?” Tyler’s voice seems so far away but that’s probably because I can barely hear him over my annoyance.
“Yeah I’m here. And I’m fine. The car is fine and everything is fine.”
“Whoa, okay. I just wanted to check on you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I sigh and lean my head back against the headrest. I know I shouldn’t treat him so poorly but I am so not in the mood. “I’m fine, okay? Everything is freaking fine. If you’re so worried about my safety maybe you shouldn’t call me when I’m driving.”
“I’m sorry, Robin. Have a good afternoon.”
I open my mouth but the call ends. He hung up. He hung up because I was a bitch to him and I deserved it. I shouldn’t have spoken to him that way. God, I am the worst person ever. I draw in another breath and bounce my head back against the headrest a few times. Stupid. So stupid.
I bet Elizabeth wouldn’t treat him that way.
Miranda clears her throat. I glance over at her, but whatever she wanted to say, she doesn’t want to risk it now. Her mouth closes and she turns to look out the window.
The two hours feel like an eternity, but we do make it home eventually. By then, it’s dark and I’m hungry and tired and my legs feel like jelly as I climb out of my car and walk back up the porch steps to my front door. I’m no longer angry, just—disappointed. Disappointed in my stupid family for acting the way they did, and disappointed in myself for yelling at Tyler. If he didn’t think I was too much of a drama magnet last weekend, he definitely thinks I am now.
I can’t even deny that I was a little worried that I’d find his truck in Elizabeth’s driveway tonight. But no cars are on our entire street tonight except for my own. Miranda starts making herself something to eat in the kitchen and I plop onto the bay window that looks out into the massive backyard with a lake that was once bordered with hundreds of bluebonnets, before fall took over.
The scent of Miranda’s grilled cheese makes my stomach hurt and all of my stress and self-loathing makes the walls feel as though they’re going to close in on me. I pop off the bay window and dig around the junk drawer in the kitchen, finding the flashlight. I click it on to make sure the batteries work. Miranda gives me a weird look.
“I’m going for a walk,” I say, trying to put on a smile that will convince her I haven’t gone completely crazy. “I’m not crazy.”
She smiles and flips over her sandwich in the frying pan. “I know. Just a little stressed out.”
I nod. “Exactly.”
It’s so much colder outside than it was inside, but by the time I start shivering, I’m a hundred yards away from the house and don’t feel like going back to get a jacket. Plus, in a way, I feel like I deserve to suffer for being such a jerk to Tyler. He hasn’t called me back and I haven’t called him, though my fingers ache to send him a text message. But what would I say?
Sorry I yelled at you just a couple of days after we became a couple and you didn’t do anything wrong and didn’t deserve that and now I’m sure you want to break up with me.
On second thought, that’s probably exactly what I should say.
Ugh.
I circle around the lake, using the flashlight to light my way. It’s so beautiful out here, even in the dusk where the sun’s rays barely make it over the horizon. It feels like a waste to have had such a beautiful backyard for the last three months and to have only walked back here once, with Tyler.
A massive oak tree casts eerie shadows over the lake. It’s the biggest tree on the lot and I’ve often admired it from our back window. Something pulls me toward it, despite the slight scary factor of the leafy shadows that dance around on the water. I lean my back against the bark and take my cell phone from my pocket. My fingers shake as I open a new text to Tyler. I have to apologize. I know I shouldn’t do it in a text message, so I lean my head against the tree and try to summon enough courage to call him.
The bark feels odd beneath my head. Like it’s too smooth to be a tree. I lift up and turn around, pointing the flashlight at the tree, hoping to God that the smooth surface I just rested my head on wasn’t some kind of creepy animal like a coiled snake. Tears pool in my eyes when I see what’s on the side of the ancient tree.
A heart.
Carved probably decades ago, the tree isn’t just an old Oak; it’s a testament to someone’s love. Propping the flashlight between my shoulder and cheek, I use both of my hands to pull away the fresh bark and dirt, revealing what was once carved there so many years ago. The letters are barely legible. My fingernails get filthy as I dig through the faint lines, trying to recreate the message.
My teeth dig into my lip. It can’t be. There’s no way this says what I think it says.
Carol & Joe
My grandparents. It has to be them. In a town this small, there’s no other way it could have been another couple with the same name. My fingers trace the letters. I touch Grandpa’s watch and a feeling of warmth pulses through my chest. Smiling, I wipe away the tears in the corners of my eyes and grab my phone again.
Tyler answers on the first ring. My well thought out apology goes out the window the moment I hear his voice. So instead of eloquent words, a mess of stuff falls out of my mouth. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you. I can’t believe I acted like that, I’m so, so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “You had a bad day. That happens. I get it.”
“You’re amazing,” I breathe into the phone. I glance back at the heart in the tree and my chest aches. “I know it’s late and it’s Thanksgiving and all, but do you think you could come over?”
“You don’t even need to ask, Sunshine.”
My heartbeat quickens. “What do you mean by that?”
I hear a whistle both through the phone and in real life. I look up and see him standing there, on my back porch. He waves his phone, the glow of it lighting up his face in the dark and I wave mine back before putting it back to my ear. “Why are you here?”
“I figured you’d need me.”
I lean against the tree and close my eyes, pressing the phone tightly to my ear. “Well, I do need you. So hurry up.”
Tyler jogs across the back yard. I don’t open my eyes until I hear him just a few steps away. Our eyes meet as the moon glows overhead. My bottom lip curls under my teeth and I try to smile but it comes out sheepish and stupid. Tyler doesn’t seem to mind. His arms slide around my back and he pulls me toward him. My face buri
es into his chest and he smells so amazing I can barely stand it. I run my hands under his jacket and up the smooth fabric of his shirt and grab his shoulders, squeezing him tightly to me. “I missed you.” The words tumble out, unfiltered and I’m not even sure if we’ve been dating long enough for me to say things like that.
“I missed you, too,” he whispers into my ear. He pulls back and takes off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders. “We should get inside. You can tell me all about your day.”
“Wait.” I grab my flashlight from where I had dropped it when Tyler arrived and turn it on, pointing it to the tree. “Can you read that?”
He squints at the carving. “Carol and Joe? Wait…that’s not…?” I nod. “I think it is. It makes sense that my grandparents would have lived in a rental house, right? They were a newly married couple and didn’t have much money. I think this was them.”
“Wow,” Tyler exhales. “That’s amazing.”
“It’s more than amazing,” I say, tugging his jacket tighter around me as chills shoot down my arms. “It’s fate.”
Tyler’s head tilts until he’s pressing his forehead to mine. His hands slide down my back and his fingers slip into my back pockets. He pulls my hips closer to his and kisses me. “I’m glad fate brought you here.”
“Me too,” I whisper just before he kisses me again.
“I don’t think you should ever leave.”
I smile and press my finger to the carved heart in the tree next to us. “I don’t think fate wants me to leave.”
Tyler smiles. “Good.”
As we hold hands and walk through the crisp air back toward my house, Grandpa’s watch feels heavy on my wrist. It’s as if everything that happened; the lost condo sale, the broken nose and shattered windshield—every bad thing that has happened on my journey to find myself, had happened for a reason. Like fate had a hand in it, guiding the events around me to force me into staying in Salt Gap, Texas. It’s almost like it was destiny all along.
A Little Like Destiny (Robin & Tyler #3) Page 7
