by Nicole Helm
Yes, he did remember. But that had been different.
“You know I’m not mushy about love and crap, but you were happy. I know there was a big stretch of time where we didn’t really know each other, but I don’t remember ever seeing you full-on happy.”
“One apology at a time, huh?”
She pointed a finger at him. “So you were the screwer-upper. It’s always the guy.”
“You were not faultless with your stuff with Jacob.”
She waved that away. “We’re focusing on you right now. One apology at a time? Well, let’s speed this one up so you can get to the next.” Leah started propelling him to the door.
It meant something, that she was invested, that she was saying stuff. That she was here, pulling him toward the door. Enough to say things he normally kept to himself.
“I appreciate the effort you’ve been making.”
She stopped abruptly, moving away from him. “O-oh, well—”
“I wasn’t exactly kind over Christmas and I’ve kept my distance since I moved, but I want you to know I appreciate your effort. And more, I like you. As a person and as a sister.”
She stared at him openmouthed for a few seconds before giving him one final push toward the door. “Save the gushy stuff for Mom and Dad, jeez.”
But as he opened the door he could see her blinking a little rapidly, and she even managed a mumbled, “Thanks. And, for what it’s worth, I like you, too. Brother, person and all that.”
“Enough to tell me how to fix this?”
“Parental fix or romantic fix?”
He opened his mouth to say parental, but instead “Maybe both” slipped out.
Leah grinned. “Mom and Dad first, then. That’ll be easy.” They stepped inside. “I know they tend to focus on me, but they think you’re a saint.”
“It has quite honestly never felt like that.”
Leah paused in the entryway, studying him. “I never in a million years would have believed this when you all showed up on my doorstep in December, but I think this whole moving-here thing is the best damn thing that could have ever happened to this family.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I believe that.”
She gave him a stern look. “It sucks in the interim, I’ll give you that. But you know this is going to make things better.”
He glanced into the house from Leah’s entryway. Better? This might be what he had to do, but the sick feeling in his stomach wasn’t convinced things would get better. Maybe for her, but considering she’d barely talked to the family for a decade, that wasn’t hard to make better.
But if there was some way he could voice his feelings to his parents, maybe there was hope that...well, that he could live his own life without feeling guilty for not giving them everything they wanted. Maybe if he had a solid grasp on his own life, it wouldn’t be so painful when Mom went in full-on Leah mode.
“It’s hard not to think, shit, Tess’s dad is the one that did that to her face and here we are upset that our parents don’t treat us the way we want,” Leah said. “I hate false equivalency crap like that, because regardless of starving people and three-legged dogs, I should be able to feel bad or complain sometimes, but at the same time, it’s a bit of perspective, you know?”
“I know.” He did. Tess had hated when he’d compared or belittled what was going on with him because hers was worse, but maybe that wasn’t exactly the kind of perspective Leah was talking about. Perspective and ignoring that he was unhappy with his family life were two different things, he realized.
It was starting to become abundantly clear that perspective was exactly what he needed to be happy.
He was really, really ready to be happy. Which meant taking action, moving forward and figuring out what he wanted. Somehow balancing that with what the people he loved wanted. Surely there was compromise to be had without completely ignoring himself.
He followed Leah into her living room, where Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch, Mom all but shoving a magazine in Dad’s face and asking him about some color.
“Mom. Dad.”
Dad looked up with his angry face on, which was very rare these days. He stood up between Marc and Mom. Which made Marc feel like even bigger shit.
“Well, young man, I hope you’re here to apologize,” his father said gruffly. “You made your mother cry.”
“I am. I do. I absolutely apologize for the way I behaved yesterday,” Marc forced out in a grumbly voice, knocked flat by the fact Dad was lecturing him and he’d made Mom cry. That was not...him. He’d never incurred their displeasure. Sure, not much praise, but he’d never been in trouble. Not since he was a little kid.
“Come on, Marc. Say it like a human.”
He knew Leah’s attempt at humor was supposed to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. Familiar guilt and shame curled up in his gut. He couldn’t really be what they needed. Never had been. Never would be.
But Mom smiled. “It was a good apology. Succinct but genuine. Besides, Leah said you and Tess might have had a fight and that might have been the cause of your bad mood.”
“We...broke up.”
Mom waved a hand in the air. “Nonsense. I refuse to accept it. The grandchildren you two would make me.” She clasped her hands to her heart. “Now, what do we need to do to fix it?”
“He needs to apologize,” Leah piped up.
He glared at her and she laughed. “Sorry, you being the center of attention is too much fun for me not to be a part of.”
“I came to apologize.” He looked around, trying to get his bearings. “How are we past that already?”
“Because, my goodness, Marc, you almost always do the right thing. I can’t remember the last time you disappointed me. One little outburst, caused by a broken heart, is easily forgivable.”
Marc blinked. Was that...praise?
“Now. Let’s talk Tess. Surely you know better than to let one disagreement be the end of anything. You wouldn’t even be alive if your father and I had done that, let alone Leah.” Mom got off the couch and started ushering him to the door.
“Mom—”
“Don’t pretend they weren’t important things to argue about. You were there when things were particularly bad between your father and I.”
What was happening? “I—”
“Now, you will go make things right with that girl. Flowers are a nice touch. But the most important thing is words and meaning them, of course.”
Suddenly he was standing in front of the door. “Mom, I’m not sure I can live with what she wants me to live with.”
“Love isn’t everything, honey, but it’s a heck of a lot.” She gave him a squeeze. “I know you both think I’m overzealous on the finding-a-spouse thing, but it’s only because having someone to share your life is huge. It’s gotten me through so much. I want the same for my children.”
“I...” He looked at the door, but it was his easy out. “I haven’t been happy.”
“Oh, don’t I know it. You think I wanted to move you here just because? I thought a change of scenery, maybe making some friends might help. Having your sister here was a good start, but you didn’t even need her. You met Tess all on your own.”
“You wanted me to move here because of Leah.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Well, of course, dear, but not only because of her. Your father and I have been worried about you.”
Worried about him? They never did any of the things they did to Leah to him. No incessant calling, no unannounced visits. “You never said...”
“Said anything? Honey, I’ve wanted you to find your own way, not just do whatever your father and I told you. That’s why we told you less and less with every passing year. We wanted you to find your life. Your father and I knew you needed a...change. A spark. And getting us
all in the same town meant all four of us would get something we wanted.”
“I thought you cared only about Leah. I don’t mean only, but...” He felt as if his head was spinning and none of it made any sense.
Mom put a hand to her heart. “Marc.” She blinked rapidly, eyes shiny with tears. “How could you ever doubt that we cared about you?”
“No. Not...that. I just...” Christ, couldn’t he get a full sentence together without stuttering? “Everything was about Leah. Never me. I have always come in second.”
Mom kept blinking. Her hand moved from her heart to her mouth. “I know Leah needed more attention, but you never...” Mom took a deep breath. “Her illness took a toll on all of us, especially before and the year right after the transplant. Maybe we didn’t give you as much attention as you needed or deserved.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
Mom pursed her lips and fixed him with a stern glare. “I think that’s exactly what you meant.” Some of her tenseness slumped. “And maybe you’re right.” She glanced back at the living room where Leah and Dad stood, both with their hands in their pockets, shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.
“I know I’ve acted more like a chicken with her head cut off than a rational adult the past few years, trying to bring Leah back into the family. Trying to make us a close, tight-knit family again. I’ve dropped some balls.”
“Mom—”
“If I ever... No, I can’t even say if. You’re right, I— Not that I’ve ever cared more about your sister, but that because of her health I showed her more attention, and I dropped the ball when it came to showing you how much you were loved and needed.”
“Please don’t cry.” Because the tears were too much paired with the words and the look on her face, clearly saying she thought she’d failed. She hadn’t. Not really. They all had.
“You never said anything, but I should have seen it.”
“I should have said something.”
Mom sniffled, pulling a handkerchief out of her back pocket. “I’m your mother—I should have seen that you needed something from me.”
“Not if I pretended—”
Dad cleared his throat, causing everyone to look at him. “I hate to break up all the self-blame,” he said in his low, gravelly voice, commanding all the attention in the room since he so rarely strung so many words together. “But I think we can agree we’ve all made mistakes. And that we all need to be more open and honest and understanding with each other.”
Mom’s expression transformed from distraught to immediate joy. “Yes. Yes, Dad’s right. The important thing is, we’re here, on the edge of a new beginning.” She wiped her tears, straightening her shoulders as she shoved the handkerchief back into her pocket. “If Dad and I can move here by the end of the year, if you two decide to settle down with the lovely people you’ve found in this town, well, that’s a nice new beginning. Don’t you think?”
Dad nodded, then Leah, then Mom fixed him with a look.
A nice new beginning. He wasn’t sure...oh, hell, maybe he wasn’t sure, but that’s what he wanted. What they all wanted. And they were all probably determined and stubborn enough to make it work.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good.” Mom took a deep breath and then clapped her hands together. “Now go get your girl. Maybe you won’t give me adorable grandbabies with her. Sweet little ones to spoil.” Mom let out a dramatic sigh. “I’ll deal with that. What I won’t deal with is you continuing to be unhappy. I thought I was doing right by giving you space.” She shook her head. “But if you want me to start being more proactive, like I am with Leah, I can do that, honey. I just never thought you wanted or needed it.”
“Can we find a happy medium?” he managed, his voice thick with too much emotion.
“I think we could very much work on finding a happy medium. I will work very hard to find a happy medium. With both of my children, whom I love more than life itself no matter how poorly I sometimes show it.”
“You’re—” When Mom fixed him with a don’t you dare argue with me glare, Marc cleared his throat. “I will work very hard on that, too.”
“Good. Now, speaking of happy...” She hurried over to her purse in the corner. Then pulled out the little white box from a few weeks ago.
“Mom.”
“I was wrong to offer it to Jacob,” she said. “Maybe you’re not ready to use it with your young lady, and that’s fine...I guess.” Another dramatic sigh, and then she touched her palm to his cheek. “I got a little...fixated on getting my girl married and I made a big mistake, overlooking what you wanted.” She furrowed her brow, looking down at the floor. “Maybe I’ve done that more than I realized, but we’re going to fix that.” She met his gaze, nodded. “We are.”
Marc took the box. “I’m not ready to—”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s yours. Do whatever you like with it.” Mom gestured to the door. “But regardless of using it, you need to go make up with that young lady who put such a big smile on your face.”
“I don’t know...”
“Of course you do. You’re very good at knowing. Now, apply that to getting.”
Marc finally nodded and enveloped his mother in a hug. “I love you, Mom.” Because he did. Even with all they still needed to come to terms with, he’d never not loved her.
She squeezed him hard, and if he wasn’t mistaken she sniffled. “I love you, too, my sweet, strong boy.”
It didn’t magically fix everything. There would still no doubt be days he felt as though he was being overlooked or underappreciated, but they’d started a foundation of him figuring out how to express rather than fold in on himself.
Mom and Dad had backed away because they’d wanted him to make his own choices, and somehow he’d clung harder to the choices they wanted him to make.
How screwed up was that? He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to make sense out of anything.
“Flowers,” Mom said matter-of-factly, pulling the door open. “Sincere apology. And then tomorrow night a big family dinner before we have to go back to Minnesota.”
Marc opened his mouth but no sound came out.
“Go on. Don’t make me do it for you.”
Which was enough impetus to get his feet moving. Out the door. Onto the porch.
“Good luck, honey. If it isn’t too late, make sure you let us know how it goes.”
“Right. Sure. Right.”
“Marc?”
He turned to face his mother, trying to get his thoughts into a coherent line—to get his life in a coherent line.
“Just be honest, and yourself. Don’t overthink it. Honesty makes everything fall into place when it comes to love.”
Love. Which he was terrible at. Honesty, too. But...well, maybe it was time to get better at them.
* * *
TESS DIDN’T PARTICULARLY like to run in the dark, but if she had any hope of sleeping tonight, she needed this workout. And while it wasn’t her favorite way of doing things, keeping her gun strapped to her rib cage under her T-shirt at least made her feel safe.
She made it back to the apartment complex after a long run through the nicer part of town, breathing heavily, sweating profusely despite the cool spring night.
She stood out front, stretching and trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t gone as far as she’d have liked to make her entire body a mass of quivering exhaustion, but it wasn’t half-bad.
Headlights hit her in the eye, and she winced and flung her arm over her face. Once the car was off, she lowered her arm and almost laughed. Because, honestly, how could she not have known? Apparently she and Marc were the only two people to ever come or go in this place.
Marc walked toward her, carrying a bulky shopping bag, and what she should do was look down or turn away
or anything but watch him and ache for the damn jerkwad she couldn’t figure out what to do about.
“Hi,” he greeted, standing right in front of her. Not moving on. Not looking elsewhere. No, his eyes were directly on her.
“Hi,” she offered in awkward return, cringing when a drop of sweat dripped off her forehead. Of course he’d want to talk to her when she was disgusting and sweaty.
“Do you think we could talk?”
“About what?” She didn’t want to discuss work or taking separate cars or—
“Us.”
Oh. He looked so earnest, so...like he needed this. Wanted it. All that yearning and hope she wasn’t sure was smart or stupid little-girl fantasy overrode every cautious bone in her body.
“Okay.” She hadn’t a clue what they could possibly talk about, but if he wanted to, maybe...
Maybe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MARC WALKED UP the stairs to his apartment, trying to steady the racing of his heart. He’d wanted more time to plan out what to say and figure out the important beats to hit. All the ways to give her what she wanted without totally losing sight of what he wanted.
But she’d been there, and how could he ignore that all he really wanted was her? He just had to be honest.
That’s what got you here in the first place.
He frowned at the door as he unlocked it, walked stiffly into his apartment, straight to the kitchen counter so he could set down the heavy bag of books he’d bought. When he turned to face Tess, she was locking his door. Sliding the dead bolt.
It twisted up in his chest. He knew she wasn’t as careful as he was when it came to that stuff, but she was doing it because she knew that’s what he preferred. And shit. Shit. Shit. He needed to make this right.
Her eyes met his, then her gaze slid away. “Um, so I’m kind of gross.” She gestured at herself. “If we could kind of move this along so I could take a shower.”
Beads of sweat dripped down her face, her neck. She wore an oversized T-shirt, darker around the collar from sweat.
“Why’d you go running in the dark?”
