ReDefined

by Michele Zurlo

  Remembering her manners, she grasped Jamie’s hands in hers. “It’s lovely to meet you. Are you visiting long?”

  Jamie smiled and squeezed Amy’s hands, acknowledging the friendly gesture. “Just a week. I leave in two days, which is a good thing. I think Jordan’s getting sick of me always being underfoot, and his bachelor pad isn’t fit for company.”

  Jordan’s brows drew together in a menacing scowl. “It’s cleaner than your bedroom.”

  Laughing, Jamie slapped a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Clean? It’s barren. There’s nothing around to suggest anybody lives there. No pictures, no curtains, not even a pair of socks on the floor. It’s unwelcoming. You need a girlfriend, or at the very least, a good female or gay friend who will help you make your apartment homey.”

  “Socks on the floor isn’t welcoming; it’s gross.”

  Yep, they were siblings all right. Amy laughed. “Jamie, would you like a cupcake? I didn’t make them, but the person who did is an incredible baker.”

  “You’re a pretty fantastic baker.” Jordan extracted his cupcake from the box and finished it in two bites. He savored and swallowed. “Though this is also very good.”

  “I see chocolate mint,” Jamie said as she went toward the dessert table.

  Jordan had a crumb on his chin, and without thinking, Amy brushed it away. The undercurrent of electricity that happened at the brief contact was only on her end, but she enjoyed it anyway. He had stilled to let her groom him. “Thanks.”

  The easy smile and the warm way his deep brown eyes sparkled were all the gratitude she needed. A small blush heated her chest, and she barely suppressed the urge to fan herself. “No problem.”

  He seemed to lean in, like he wanted to tell her something, so she did the same. Her breast inadvertently brushed against his hand as he brought it up, probably to make sure no other crumbs were stuck to his face. The awkwardness cancelled out the thrill of accidental contact.

  Pink tinged his cheeks as he pulled his hand away. “Sorry.”

  Amy shrugged off the non-event. “No big deal. My girls go wild sometimes.”

  He laughed, a quiet chuckle that warmed her core.

  Later, as the celebration was winding down, Amy went around to the tables and collected the bottles and cans people had left lying about. Anything not returnable went into the recycling bin, and anything returnable needed to be rinsed and put into bags. As she stopped at a table near the back of the yard, she overheard Jordan and Jamie arguing. Apparently Jamie wanted to move in with her boyfriend, and Jordan objected. Amy smiled at how protective he was of those he loved, but she also recognized Jamie’s impatience. She didn’t want to hear Jordan’s opinion. Amy sympathized with them both. She’d once stepped over the line by telling Darcy how to live her life, and the result had been a deep rift in their relationship. Jordan meant well, as had Amy, but he was going to alienate his sister if he kept this up.

  “I lived with a guy in college,” Amy offered. “We’d been together for almost a year, and I think we both thought we’d be together permanently.”

  Jamie’s gaze flicked to Amy’s bare ring finger. “What happened?”

  A short laugh bubbled out as Amy sat down next to Jamie. “You never truly know a person until you live together. We tried hard to make it work, and so we kept at it for the whole school year. I think we were both relieved when summer came and we got to have some time apart. That was the hardest thing—the assumption that because you’re living together, your social lives have to be intertwined.”

  “Marc never tells me I can’t hang out with my friends. He likes to hang with his friends too.”

  Amy nodded. “Hopefully your friends like his friends, otherwise things could get awkward. My ex didn’t like my best friend all that much, and both relationships suffered. It was difficult to be in the middle and know they were tolerating one another because they loved me.”

  “Why did you break up?” Jordan’s eyes flashed, and Amy realized she wasn’t doing a good job of supporting his argument.

  “I think not really having space to ourselves was bad. We rented a room in a house with six other people. Looking back, I should have rented my own room. That way I would have had a place to go when I needed to be alone to study or just to gather my thoughts without worrying that someone was going to come in at any time.” Amy set a hand on Jamie’s wrist. “If you’re going to do this, get your own room. Even if you never sleep there, you know you have a place where everything is yours, you don’t have to share closet space, you can change your clothes without worrying your boyfriend is going to bring a friend in, and you have a place to go for when you fight. You will have disagreements. That just happens in a relationship, especially when you’re sharing space.”

  While Jamie thought about that, Amy ventured a peek at Jordan to see if he was pissed that she hadn’t taken a harder line with his sister. He snorted. “She’s eighteen. She’s too young and inexperienced to live with a guy. He’s a year older, so it’s not like he’s just starting out.”

  “I’m an adult, Jordan.” Jamie snarled the words at her brother. “It’s my life. You’re just jealous because you haven’t found a woman who will put up with you trying to control everything she does.”

  Amy had wanted to defuse the situation, not escalate the war. “I didn’t think universities allowed freshmen to live off campus?”

  “Most don’t,” Jordan said. “She’s going to community college.”

  “Oh.” Amy peered at Jamie. “Darcy and I both spent our first year at community college. Living at home with our parents wasn’t too bad, and we both worked and saved enough so that we didn’t have to work during the school year. We had summer jobs, but that was it. Let me tell you—having that kind of freedom is priceless. I had a lot of friends who juggled work and studying. It was tough. Some dropped out.”

  Jamie glared at her. “Of course you’re on his side. You think I need a Daddy to tell me what to do.”

  Jordan’s lips pressed together, and his face darkened. Amy wasn’t sure why Jamie’s comment upset him so much. She scrambled to think of something that would appease them both. “You know, being the older sibling is hard. One day your parents bring home this adorable little baby, and they tell you that you’re responsible for protecting her—and you take that duty very seriously. Fast forward eighteen years, and she’s grown up, but you’ve programmed yourself to protect her at all costs—even if it damages your friendship with her. It’s hard when your baby sister grows up. Goodness knows Darcy has wanted to kill me many times because I’ve offered unwanted advice or tried to talk her out of something because I didn’t think it was the best idea. It’s taken a long time and a lot of work, but I’ve learned to let her make her own decisions. We’re so close today because I finally learned to listen to her, and she learned to listen to me. It’s a different kind of relationship that’s taken us almost ten years to develop. You have to give Jordan some time to acclimate. He loves you, and he has your best interests at heart.”

  The anger seemed to drain away from Jamie. Next to her, Jordan visibly relaxed, and Amy hoped she hadn’t overstepped her bounds. She sometimes stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, and she didn’t know if Jordan would tell her she’d gone too far, or if he’d just decide he liked her less. An orange butterfly flittered above nearby flowers lining the edge of the yard. Momentarily forgetting where she was and who she was with, Amy gasped with excitement and half rose from her seat to follow the insect’s path with her gaze.

  “Is that a monarch?” Jordan asked.

  Amy’s attention snapped back to Jordan and Jamie. Embarrassed at having been caught getting excited over a bug, heat traveled up Amy’s neck. “Yeah. They’re so pretty. I haven’t seen one yet this year.”

  Jamie smiled like she had a secret. “That doesn’t mean I have to do what he says.”

  “No, but you should at least have the courtesy to really listen and try to understand his concern.” Turning to Jorda
n, she put her hand on his wrist, and she felt him relax even more at her touch. “And you have to try to come to terms with the fact that she’s an adult who is going to make mistakes no matter how hard you try to stop her. If you want to be the person she turns to, then you have to learn to treat her as a friend instead of a child. She’s not at all submissive, Jordan. She’s too much like you for that.”

  “Amy?” Darcy called from across the yard. “I need you.”

  With a grin, Amy excused herself. She hoped what she’d said helped.

  Jamie’s smirk was almost too much to bear. Jordan frowned. “What’s that look for?”

  “You really like her. I think she likes you too. Notice how she scrambled to make you happy with how she supported your argument against me moving in with Marc. If she wasn’t nursing a crush on you, then she wouldn’t care about your opinion.” Jamie’s expression, if possible, grew even smugger.

  “That ‘Daddy’ crack wasn’t necessary.” Not for the first time, Jordan regretted sharing his identity as a Daddy Dom with his sister. Though they’d discussed it at length and he was confident that Jamie understood, he didn’t think Amy was aware of the nuance.

  The smirk dropped from Jamie’s face, and she peered at him with genuine concern. “She doesn’t know?”

  “No, she doesn’t know. She’s very innocent when it comes to these things.”

  “Well, she’s very knowledgeable about other things.”

  He thought about the things he didn’t know about her—like the fact she’d lived with a man before—and it only made him want to get closer to her.

  “She’s probably right.” The resignation in Jamie’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I should get my own room. Or maybe consider staying home with Mom and Dad. They have very reasonable rules, and they won’t mind if I don’t come home every night as long as they know where I am.”

  Jordan knew his parents would mind, but they wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. He’d done similar things when he’d visited home during breaks from school or the military. Relief flowed through him that she was at least willing to consider other options. He smiled at his baby sister. “We do have a pretty cool set of parents, don’t we?”

  They’d stayed long past the end of the party, though he knew that Malcolm would tell him if he was overstaying his welcome. Giggles came from the center of the yard. Jordan looked up to see Malcolm, Mal’s brother, and their father clearing away tables. In the space they’d created, Amy spun in a circle, arms extended. In each hand, she held a bubble wand. Angelina, Keith and Trina’s 4-year-old niece, raced after the trail as she tried to collect bubbles without breaking them. Corey, the thirteen-month-old, toddled around on unsure legs and snatched at bubbles. Amy’s mother held five-month-old Colin so that he could wave his arms and shriek at the bubbles. Several more kids ran around, but they were ones Jordan didn’t know. In the center of it all stood Amy with a carefree and joyous smile. She laughed with delight at the kids’ antics.

  Jordan’s attention focused on Amy. He loved the undisguised joy emanating from her. Darcy came by to grab the recyclable bottles that Amy had been collecting. Jordan stood. “Jamie and I can help.”

  “Thanks,” Darcy said. She handed him an extra bag she had stuffed into her pocket, and she regarded him with eyes as clear and blue as Amy’s. “I didn’t want Amy to do any more work. She planned and put together this whole thing. It’s a fantastic present, but I just wanted her to unwind for a bit. She loves blowing bubbles and playing with kids, so I handed her a bottle and asked her to keep them entertained. She’ll make a great mom one day.”

  Jordan agreed, but he didn’t see her behavior as indicating she wanted to have kids. “That was very nice of you. She needs time to unwind.” And let loose her inner little.

  Chapter Three

  Looking in the mirror, Brian saw a man in his mid-thirties with wire-rimmed glasses and a receding hairline. When he'd cared about his appearance, he'd kept his hair clipped close to his head. He didn't want to be one of those pathetic assholes who tried to fight genetics. Bald was coming, and he was going to greet it with dignity.

  Only now that his life had gone to shit, he didn't give a flying fuck about his appearance. Gone was the boyishly round face with the laughing eyes and mischievous smile. Dark circles were perpetually imprinted under his eyes. Full of nervous energy, he no longer slept unless he passed out.

  He wouldn't even leave the abandoned and dilapidated house he called home if he didn't need to find another dealer. His had been arrested, and with the three strikes law, Brian was unlikely to see him again.

  Head low, hands in his pockets, Brian cruised the likely areas. On one corner, some asshole shoved a flyer into Brian's chest, forcing him to take it. A glance showed it was the same flyer as the one he'd found two months ago on his car. Six weeks ago, he'd sold the car to score more crack, at which point his wife had left him, taking their daughter with her. Can't get ahead? This time it had an address, and it offered coffee and food. Since he couldn't find a dealer, maybe he'd get some java to tide him over.

  The place wasn't too far away. It was in what had been an abandoned store. Brian pushed the door open to find the interior dimly lit, which was great because bright light sucked. Several people sat on folding chairs. Others stood. They all had a homeless look about them, and they smelled worse than he did. Or he’d gone nose-blind to his personal stench. A sweep of the place revealed no other obvious addicts. Fuck. He helped himself to a plastic cup of lukewarm coffee and a stale donut before anybody could kick him out.

  "Hey, man."

  Brian turned to see a silver-haired guy who was perhaps twenty years older. Time had been kind to his face, and the muscles bulging from his short-sleeved shirt warned Brian against trying anything physical. Withdrawal always made him cranky.

  "Nice night for a walk."

  That wasn't the comment Brian had expected. "Yeah. I guess."

  "Forgive my directness, but you look like you've fallen on hard times." The man regarded Brian with patient expectation.

  If he was a priest or some kind of do-good pastor, then maybe Brian could play on the man’s sympathies and get some cash. "Yeah. Lost my job cause of the fucking government. Wife left and took the kid. Got evicted."

  He nodded knowingly. "Come into the back room. We have better food there."

  Over the course of the next few hours, Brian found himself pouring out his life story to this stranger who never offered his name. When he finished blaming corporations, the government, and wealthy people for all the world's ills, the man said, "I have just the thing, my friend." He went to a drawer, took out a pouch, and handed it to Brian. It contained two rocks of crack, Brian's favorite medicine.

  Cautious and greedy, Brian took it. "How much?"

  The man shook his head. "Gratis."

  Nothing was ever free, but now that Brian had salvation in his pocket, he wasn't going to dwell on that. He stood. "Thanks."

  The man held up a hand. "Not so fast."

  Sonofabitch. There was always a catch.

  "Day after tomorrow, there's a rally." He handed a card to Brian. It had a black-and-white outline of an eyeball on one side and an address on the other. "I think you'll find a lot of like-minded people there."

  Brian took the card and tucked it into his pocket. He didn’t give two fucks about other addicts, but if this was a place where he could score more crack, then maybe it was worth his time.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, Jordan took his sister to an exhibit featuring Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo at the Detroit Institute of Arts. She patiently contemplated the art and listened to the docent leading the tour, and she seemed to really enjoy the exhibition of local art. It featured the work of a woman who used crayon shavings to make images, and it occurred to him that perhaps Amy might enjoy this excursion. Afterward he took Jamie out for a late lunch.

  “I know a great in-line skate place.” He hit the button on his fob to unlock his
truck. Tomorrow was the last day of her visit, and though he’d been able to wrangle a lot of time off, he’d worked four of the seven days she’d been there. “And Ann Arbor has a kick-ass Hands-On Museum.”

  Jamie got in. “You know I’m not into kid stuff anymore, right? I don’t skate, I don’t want to go to the zoo, and I don’t want to make a tornado inside a plastic bottle. How about we do grown-up stuff? It’s a college town. Let’s go to a dance club. You can flash your badge, and maybe we can get in for free.”

  He sincerely didn’t want to take his sister to a club. The idea of watching her shake her ass and flirt with men who had more testosterone than sense did not appeal to him. “I’m sure you’ll spend enough time at clubs in the next few years that you won’t miss not going this one time.”

  She threw him a cheeky grin, and mischief sparkled in her dark brown eyes. “Or we could call Amy and see what she’s doing. I liked her, and I’m afraid we’ll all grow old and die before you make a move.”

  “You’re such a drama queen. I like to take my time and really get to know a woman before I tell her about my kinks.”

  Jamie snorted. “You’d get farther more quickly with ‘Hi, I’m into you. Call me Daddy and do what I say’ as doing it your way. Women appreciate honesty and directness, and she already knows you’re a Dom.”

  “Is Marc?” Not only did he want to change the subject, but if his sister was this serious about a guy, it was time he switched from urging caution to mining for information.

  “Didn’t you find that out when you did an unauthorized background check using FBI resources?”

  He shot her a dry look. No sense in denying it. “He came up clean, and our records don’t contain that kind of information unless he has a criminal history or ties to certain organizations.”