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Paradise by the Dashboard Light

Page 13

by Kathryn R. Biel


  "Rio," I say more firmly.

  Finally she turns and stares at me. "What?" Annoyance dances across her face.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Obviously I'm getting ready for work. Like I told you I would be doing."

  "No, not that. You're ignoring everything I've said."

  "I'm not ignoring. I'm preserving." She looks down at her feet.

  With a gentle hand under her chin, I lift up so she has to look at me. "What do you mean preserving?"

  Her eyes are searching, and I feel like they're trying to tell me something I'm too stupid to understand.

  "We can talk when I get home. If there's news on the home front, I expect you to let me know." She steps around me. "Or not. Whatever."

  And with that, she's gone again.

  Guilt washes through me. Pursuing a romantic relationship when my brother is fighting for his life. I should be there for him.

  But I know, even if I could go, there's no way in hell I could leave her right now.

  Chapter 18

  Rio

  I'm so late for work, it's not even funny. I guess stopping to have a crying jag on a street corner can really put you off your commute pace. I want him so much it hurts, but I know I shouldn't give in to those desires. Self-loathing for letting myself fall for him again brings about another onslaught of tears. I consider stopping at a drug store to purchase some makeup to fix my face on the way in, but decided against it. God forbid, if something happened to Evan and I had to leave, looking like death-warmed-over might be the excuse I would be able to use without sounding too flakey.

  I try not to make eye contact with anyone as I enter the office and pray for an inbox full of tasks to keep my mind off Ian. I am screwing this up so royally it's not even funny.

  It's only been four days, and I've now let Ian distract me from my work. He's taking over my life. I cannot let that happen. A week ago, I was working my ass into the ground and standing up to Ted about Marissa. Making sure the Caparazzos are happy, as well as putting the finishing touches to the Skin by Seretia pitch tomorrow should be my only focus.

  Yet thoughts of Ian keep worming their way in. He was right to call me on the hot and cold shit, because that's what it is. I'm like an addict, claiming to be clean, but who scoops up the next hit as soon as she can. Kissing him—what was I thinking? Not to mention sleeping in the same bed with him and then straddling him this morning. Good Lord. No wonder the poor boy is confused.

  I'm confused.

  I've never wanted Ian McCallister more, and that's saying a lot considering the years I spent lusting after him. I mean, I literally stopped at nothing to land him, including tricking him into sleeping with me. Which is why it can't happen again. I'm not stupid enough to think that this won't all blow up in my face.

  I want it to be okay. I want it. I want him. The happy ending with Ian. I suddenly realize that I'm not so dissimilar from my mom and my sister. I want what I want and I'm prepared to take it, no matter what.

  Being with Ian, with the past deception still hidden, is wrong. Yet somehow, I keep finding ways to rationalize my way around that. To not tell him. To lie to him through omission. I'm no better than they are.

  With a sickening twist to my stomach, I know I'd rather be the thing I despise the most than be without him. I close my eyes, letting those thoughts and feelings run through me.

  Yes, he's worth it.

  I would sacrifice who I am for him. To be with him.

  I will turn into them for him.

  As if the powers that be were aware of my ill-fated and ill-thought-out decision, my mother's name illuminates my cell phone screen. I don't have the energy to evade her. Better to deal with the crisis of the day and be done with it.

  "Oh, Rio. It's so terrible. You won't believe it."

  I don't bother hiding my annoyance. I've lost enough productivity today. I need to get this train back on the track, and Mom's not going to help matters. "What now?"

  "We're at the hospital with Vegas."

  It takes significant effort to keep my voice even. I've learned that my mother and sister thrive on the drama. Reacting to them is like feeding a Gremlin after midnight. "Okay."

  "That's all you have to say? Okay? Don't you want to know the news? Aren't you even concerned?" She's keyed up. I wonder if she's on something. I wonder that a lot of the time.

  "I'm sure you will tell me." In truth, it is worrisome that my three-year-old nephew is at the hospital. To say he's a bit of a wild child would be an understatement. There's no telling what he's done this time.

  At that moment, my phone pings, indicating a text. "Hang on a sec, Mom."

  She huffs, "Fine," her annoyance clear across the cellular airways.

  I pull the phone away and see a message from Ian.

  Evan's doing better. Negative for pneumonia. Discharge later today.

  I respond with a quick thumbs up and return to the call.

  "I'm back. I had a text come in."

  "Yes, and I know everything is more important to you than we are."

  I don't even bother to mask the sigh. "Okay, Mom. What's going on?"

  "Well, like I said, we're at the hospital with Vegas, and you wouldn't believe who I ran into! Marge McCallister! Evan's here. It doesn't look good. This could be it for him. You know, Marge sent him to one of those places. He's barely been there a few weeks and now he could die."

  And because I'm too stupid to learn from my past mistakes, I fall for her shit, hook, line, and sinker.

  "No, Mom. He's going to be fine."

  "You know how sickly he is. And it's bad. Marge and David are a mess."

  I have never ever seen Mr. and Mrs. McCallister a mess. They're not even capable of it. We reserve the messes for our family. When I don't respond, Mom follows up with, "Think about their guilt. I mean, they don't want to take care of him anymore and then this happens. Will you come home for the funeral at least?"

  Funeral? What the hell is she talking about?

  "What? I don't understand."

  "You know, Evan's been living on borrowed time for a long while now. Frankly, he never should have survived. You should have seen him when he was born. He looked like an alien baby. I used to wonder if Marge was going to be able to love something that pitiful. But still, I think he lived in a blissful oblivion. I'm surprised Ian isn't here."

  That was a lot of information, most of it wrong. Nothing unusual with that. And I take the bait, also not unusual. Mama drama is my Achilles' heel. "He's not dying, Mom. He's going home today."

  "Wait, how do you know that?"

  "Ian texted me. He's been keeping me updated." There's silence on the line. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I fell right into her trap. Dammit.

  "Ian? You still talk to Ian? After everything he did to your sister? Turning his back on her in her hour of need? I can't believe you would betray your own flesh and blood by talking to him."

  "Well, in Ian's defense, Rainne was done with him. She'd moved on. It's not his fault she chose poorly." I don't know why I'm playing into her game, except I can't help myself. Someday I will learn, but apparently not today.

  "And have you been talking to him all this time? You told me you wanted nothing to do with home? What else are you lying to me about?"

  It's not easy being the villain. I spent so much of my early life being railroaded and gaslighted by my mother and sister. It was only with some distance that I finally realized they are totally off their rockers, and that their thinking processes are not totally normal. "So, what's this about Vegas? Why are you there with him?"

  "Oh, that kid. I swear, he's going to get himself killed. He thought it would be a good idea to cut himself."

  "What? It sounded like you said 'cut himself.'"

  "I did. That moron used my good fruit knife and cut through the palm of his hand."

  So many questions spring to mind, the first being, how does a three-year-old get a hold of a knife? I mean, he's the third child. The house should b
e pretty baby-proofed by now.

  "Is he okay?"

  I can almost see her apathetic shrug through the phone. "I hope he learns his lesson. Good thing he's right handed. Stupid kid climbed up on the counter to get the knife. I don't even know what he was thinking."

  "Well, he's three. Where was Rainne when this happened?"

  "On the porch." That means she was outside smoking. Most likely not cigarettes.

  "And where were you?" I don't even want to know.

  "He's not my kid. Not my responsibility."

  "But was it your job to put the knife away?" I shouldn't need to tell her knives belong in the drawer with a lock on them.

  "I didn't know if I'd want more lime." Like it was the most obvious thing ever. But there's so much more she doesn't say. More blanks she doesn't need to fill in. She went on a bender last night and was probably sleeping it off in her room. Rainne was getting high. Vegas was in the house, most likely still in his pj's and a dirty diaper, doing God only knows what.

  It's not like that all the time, but it happens. More than it should. Every time I hear about an "incident," part of me wants to drive home and take the kids. I half think Rainne would let me too, especially if I let her keep the child support payments.

  "But this isn't about that. I want to know what you hear from Ian? He's got to be done with med school by now. Why doesn't he come home and take care of his brother? This sort of thing wouldn't have happened to Evan if someone was looking after him properly. You kids have no sense of responsibility. Ingrates."

  The irony in that statement is not lost on me. Perhaps Ian and I can move far, far away and buy a large house in which Evan, Tequila, Avril, and Vegas reside with us.

  Us.

  I'm thinking about a future with Ian. We don't even have a present, and I want a future, preferably without all those other people in the house.

  And dammit all, I'm not going to let a little thing like common sense or the truth keep me from getting what I want, once and for all.

  

  Ian

  I should be studying. I need to be studying. Studying is not only necessary for my career, but it is much needed to take my mind off all the other distracting factors of the day. Primarily Evan and Rio, but not even in that order.

  Mom's kept me updated constantly, and I've even FaceTimed with Evan, which has helped to ease my mind. The anti-viral has made a world of difference, and his lungs are still clear. A nurse will be checking in on him at his place every day until he's cleared by the doctor. Frankly, it's about as good news as I could hope for. Mom's kicking herself for even letting Dad call me last night.

  "Don't beat yourself up about it. You know I'd want to know."

  "I know, but I panicked. I didn't think it was bad, but you know how these things can turn so quickly. I knew I could never forgive myself if that happened. I know what it's like to be left in the dark until after."

  It's going to be awhile before she forgives me for not calling her about my knee. "I understand, Mom. I'm sure you were scared too. In a few years, I'll be there with you, and you won't have a choice about telling me."

  "Good Lord, you're not planning on moving back in here are you? How would your father and I have all that wild s-e-x with you around, cramping our style?"

  "Mom, if you can't even say it, I'm guessing you're not doing it. And eeew. That's gross by the way."

  She laughs, but I can hear the fatigue in her voice.

  "Why don't you go get some rest? I'm behind on my studying, and I should really get caught up before Rio gets home."

  Oh shit. I can't believe I said that.

  "Rio? Home?" There's silence on the line. "Are … you … together?"

  "Uh, no. It's funny really. I'm staying at my co-worker's place because she has an elevator, and Rio just happens to be her roommate. Small world, huh?"

  "That's funny. I saw Sierra and Rainne at the hospital today. They were there with the little boy. I can't remember his name, other than it's a place or a state or something. Texas, maybe?"

  "Why was he there? Is everything okay?" From the dribs and drabs of information my mom told me, not to mention the sarcastic comments Rio's made, it's not hard to guess that Rainne is a shit show of a mother. I still don't understand how Rio and Rainne are twins and products of the same environment.

  "I guess. He climbed up on a counter and cut himself with a knife."

  "Yikes."

  "Well, that's a boy for you. Do you remember the time you broke your arm trying to fly off the bed? Or the time you decided to eat the dishwasher detergent? Curious boys are a direct line to the emergency room and poison control."

  "I guess. I just can't see Rainne as that attentive of a mother. Rio certainly isn't a fan," I mutter.

  Mom clears her throat. "She's always had good judgment. So, tell me how Miss Rio is doing. I guess the email for my recipe makes sense now. Why didn't you tell me earlier that you were back in contact?"

  "Rio asked me not to. She thought it would make things more complicated. She doesn't want her mother and sister to know because of, well, you know. Rainne and me."

  Mom chuckles. "I'd say it's already complicated, son, and that's the least of it. That girl's been in love with you from the day you all were born."

  What?

  That makes no sense. We were always friends. "No, Ma. I don't think so."

  She sighs. "Oh Ian, for such a smart boy, you can certainly be dumb. You never saw how she looked at you. How her face would crumple when you'd talk about Rainne. All she ever wanted was for you to notice her. But you never did."

  "We were … just … friends." She couldn't have felt that way about me. God, she used to deliver messages to Rainne for me when I was trying to convince the wrong twin to go out with me.

  "You, for her, were the perfect definition of a crush. I used to feel so badly for her. I mean, it's not like she had an easy time of it at home. I knew she would have given anything for you to notice her. But you had blinders on."

  "No, Mom. You aren't right. You can't be right. Rio would have said something to me. She wouldn't have helped me win Rainne’s attention if that's how she felt." I can't remember in this moment why I even wanted Rainne's attention.

  "Let me ask you this, Ian. What's Rio's favorite food?"

  Even after spending the last four days at her place, I have no clue. "I don't know."

  "Yet she knew that beef stroganoff was yours, right?"

  Mom's got me. Rio even knew about the peas, which is a detail my own mother doesn’t remember. "Maybe she's got a really good memory, that's all." I'm grasping at straws.

  "You know what's funny? Toward the end of your senior year, I was hoping you had changed your mind and were going to ask Rio to the prom."

  "I was. As friends." My frank admission startles me. Even with Rio back in the picture, I hadn't thought about that. Now it all comes flooding back.

  I sighed, impatient for the rehearsal for the senior show to end. I'd been roped into doing a silly Monty Python sketch, and I wished to God I hadn't agreed. Michele Tanskly had tried to get me to do a dance routine with the guys on the baseball team, but I refused. It was outside my comfort zone, plus dance is boring. Watching my friends parade around like idiots to Christina Aguilera, I was glad I held my ground on that one.

  "Okay, Rio. You're up." Mr. Mastrianni announced.

  Sigh. Another dance number. Shoot me now. When was this going to end?

  But then the song came on, and I lifted my head to see what Rio's doing to this song. Some chick was singing Kings of Leon's "Use Somebody," and it was actually a pretty cool version. Rio was on the stage in leggings and a short shirt that showed her flat stomach as she twisted and bent and twirled. With how she was moving, she brought this song to life and made it surprisingly sexy. If all dance looked like this, maybe I could be convinced to change my mind. I'd considered it before, but watching her cemented it—I was going to ask Rio to the prom. She'd make dancing fun.
/>   "Oh God, this rehearsal is going on forever." Rainne plopped herself on my lap, blocking my view of what was going on up on the stage. I tried to move my head so I could keep watching. Rainne wrinkled her brow and looked from me to the stage and back at me. She wound her arms around my neck, pulling my head in toward her chest, and that was where my focus went.

  "You know, Ian, I've been thinking about it. You should take me to the prom."

  Rainne was finally agreeing to go out on a date with me! I'd waited my whole life for this!

  Mom sighs again, snapping me out of my reverie. "Well, the past is the past. People grow. People change. How are things now?"

  "I don't know. In some ways good. In others, not. She's very … hot and cold."

  "Take into consideration that she's been hurt by you in the past. Even if you didn't mean to do it, you did. She's never had many people she could trust, and you are certainly in that category. She's probably trying to protect herself."

  Mom's given me lots to think about, which I proceed to mull over for the majority of the afternoon. The only conclusion I can arrive at without a shadow of a doubt is that Rio is detrimental to my career. First with the knee injury and now my lack of focus. Oh, I know that the fall was a stupid mistake that could have happened anytime. The focus thing is why I haven't pursued a real relationship since high school. I know my career is the most important thing right now.

  Or at least I always thought it was. Is it possible Rio's worth more than that?

  Chapter 19

  Rio

  He's looking at me funny. I keep catching him doing it too, but no matter how many times I've asked him "what?" he responds that it's nothing. It's not nothing. It's something, and that damn man is going to drive me crazy if he doesn't tell me soon.

  Not like he hasn't been driving me crazy my whole life. It's nice to know some things never change.

 

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