by R. K. Ryals
Tasty smells tickled the nose, and we followed the scent to a long mahogany table. Platters and lid-covered dishes littered the surface. Guests shuffled behind high-backed chairs, awkward silence stretching.
Pops marched into the room, swept a hand down the table, and commanded, “Sit.”
Chairs scraped against the floor, a flurry of rustling fabric proceeding us. Eli took a seat next to me, my grandmother and Deena across from us.
“We’re usually less formal than this,” Jonathan informed me, sliding into the empty space separating me from the people who belonged here. He offered me a smile, and his freckles danced.
“Feeding time at the zoo,” Eli grumbled. He’d chosen to sit isolated from his family, my body shielding him from their side of the table.
Pops stood at the head of the table, his hands resting on the back of his chair. He spoke, his voice booming along the walls, offering a prayer before presenting the table’s occupants.
Names danced around us.
Ivy Lockston came first, an elegant brunette in a collared silk blouse with a black bow accent and black designer dress pants. She smiled demurely, and I stared at her. There were more introductions, a Mandy Touchstone and Lincoln Lockston being the only other strangers, but I didn’t spare them a glance, my gaze locked on Ivy. A porcelain doll looked less breakable than she did, her pale, smooth skin glazed in artful makeup, her shoulders back and chin up. She commanded attention in a delicate but brutal way.
Voices drifted around me, silverware tinkling, but all I heard was echoing remnants of Eli’s voice saying, “My mother drugged me when I was a kid.”
There was no mistaking the resemblance. Despite the contrast between them—Eli’s rugged features clashing with Ivy’s refined beauty—there was no doubt Ivy was his mother.
“Scary, isn’t she?” Eli breathed into my ear, startling me.
Around us, everyone was serving themselves, layering food onto fine china. Glass pitchers full of sweet tea and sprigs of mint were lifted and poured. My hands moved, filling my plate and glass, but I was simply going through the motions, my eyes on Ivy.
She was the least scary person I’d ever seen, and yet somehow that made her incredibly frightening. If I touched her, would she break? Pale glass on mirrored mahogany.
My gaze slid to his. “She’s sad.”
I didn’t know what made me say the words.
“Sad?”
Conversation buzzed around our heads, snippets of stuff that had nothing to do with us. Casino business bounced back and forth. Mandy and Ivy exclaimed over different designer products, debating the pros and the cons. Pops drew Hetty into a discussion about the animal clinic, me, and Deena. Deena sat slumped in her seat, a sour frown on her face. Jonathan picked at his food, equally quiet.
“Yeah,” I murmured, “sad. Like she’s on the verge of shattering.”
Eli snorted. “It’s a game with her. She makes crying a sport. Watch it, or you’ll be fooled like the rest of the people in her life.”
“Not that kind of sad.”
He studied me. “There’s another kind?”
My gaze slid to Ivy. A smiling dimple flashed in her cheek, her fork carving an uneaten trail through the food on her plate, her coral lips parting in conversation. “More like a brick house with a precarious foundation,” I whispered, my eyes returning to his. “Remove a brick, and the whole thing crumbles.”
“You get that from a look? Shit, I don’t think I want to know what you see in me.” When I didn’t reply, he leaned forward. “Or do you see that in her because you relate somehow? Is that why? Are you a crumbling brick house, roof girl?”
I frowned. “I’m not like your mother.”
“But you’re still crumbling, aren’t you?”
“You’re forgetting the favor I asked of you,” I murmured.
“Favor?”
“The one where I asked you to stop seeing me.”
Eli leaned back. “You’re forgetting mine. The one where I asked you to let me be that roof when things get to be too much.”
I stared, baffled. I saw the way he looked at his mother, the disgust when he glanced at his former fiancée. “Why? It doesn’t add up. For too many reasons. You barely knowing me, for one, and don’t give me that whole ‘it’s because you don’t cry’ shit.”
A smile flirted with Eli’s lips. “Truth?” His hand found the back of my chair. “I don’t know.”
That was the crux of mine and Eli’s brief relationship. The draw between us was there, so maybe it was time to quit questioning it, to admit we were friends because we clicked as people.
“So, I’m curious,” a smooth, velvet voice prompted, dragging us out of our private conversation. “How did you two meet?”
Turning, I found myself looking at Mandy Touchstone, Eli’s former fiancée, her lips curved in a forced smile.
Conversation at the table stilled.
Deena, spurred on by the promise of excitement, came alive. “On a hospital roof,” she answered for us. “You know, because that’s totally normal.”
“Hospital?” Mandy asked, eyes dancing. Her gaze swept over me, touching on my hair and piercings.
People looked at me. That’s all there was to it. I wanted to believe it was because of the whole punk thing, that they thought I was cool, but I knew that wasn’t the case. It was because of me. My body was a tapestry of alterations. My diary. Badly done at-home hair dye. Four of my piercings performed by my hands with an alcohol-dipped needle. Mandy wasn’t staring because I was punk. She was staring because what I couldn’t say about myself out loud, I said with my physique and body language. I wasn’t broadcasting “cool”.
Deena grinned maliciously. “It was the day our father died. He offed himself.”
“Deena!” Hetty cried.
Jonathan pushed his plate back. “Has anyone seen—”
“Oh, that’s right,” Mandy interrupted, eyes on Eli, “you were in that alcohol program.”
“You know,” Jonathan cleared his throat, “I saw this really interesting story online—”
“All thanks to you,” Eli countered calmly, his hard gaze on Mandy’s. He studied her, little furrows appearing between his brows. “The hell,” he added in a whisper, too low for anyone except me to hear, in a way that said he was trying to figure something out.
She laughed, a little too loudly. “I didn’t force you to drink.”
Rather than respond, Eli picked up a glass of sweet tea—no doubt wishing it was alcohol—and downed it, ice clinking the glass. His gaze ricocheted back and forth, from his former fiancée to the table and back again.
Jonathan sighed, any attempt on his part to thwart a quarrel, overlooked.
Lincoln, the cheating cousin, placed a placating hand on his fiancée’s shoulder and leaned back in his chair. “You were customizing a Harley Davidson the last time I saw you, right, Eli?”
“An NCR Leggera,” Eli corrected, his gaze swinging to the head of the table. “As to where it is now, that’s a question for Pops.”
Pops cleared his throat, pulled a napkin out of his lap, and directed his gaze at Hetty. “I apologize for my family’s behavior. I underestimated their ability to have an uncomplicated family dinner.”
Nana waved him off, a glare finding its way to Deena. “It’s no worse than my granddaughter’s behavior.”
They shared a companionable look born from mutual troubles. It irritated me, a bur that dug itself into my breastbone. They weren’t the ones trying to deal with our messes. Those were all ours.
“Look,” Deena spat, her gaze on Nana and Pops, “they’re bonding.”
Younger or no, my sister was so much better at vocalizing how she felt than I was, even if it posed a problem for her.
“That’s enough,” Hetty warned.
Deena surrendered, hands up, a smile dancing on her lips.
“Eat,” Pops commanded.
The meal commenced, all conversation stilled. Forks met lips.
“Your grandfather keeps staring at me,” I whispered to Eli.
He glanced at the head of the table. “Maybe he sees it, too.”
“What?”
“You.”
I looked at him askance. His hair was tousled, his rumpled shirt a little too tight, as if it had shrunk in the wash.
He glanced at me, and our eyes met.
A chair scraped the floor. “Excuse me,” Ivy Lockston mumbled.
Standing, she nodded at us and left the table.
Mandy pushed her chair back. “If you’ll excuse me as well.”
Our eyes trailed her departure.
Eli’s gaze met Jonathan’s over my head.
“This is fun,” Deena chatted. “We managed to make it through most of the meal and learned that we’re not the only crazy family in this town.”
“What was that about?” I asked.
Eli frowned.
“Our mother is a little erratic sometimes,” Jonathan hedged.
Deena grunted. “You didn’t meet our father.”
We kept our voices low so that it didn’t reach the head of the table, but it wouldn’t have mattered; Pops and Lincoln were in deep discussion, Hetty peppering them with business questions, her eyes bright. Nana was in her element. I knew now why she was successful at what she did. Even here, in this small town, she managed to take the leadership role at the clinic. She loved business as much as she loved animals.
Eli stared at the door, his eyes narrowed.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
His jaw tensed, his arm flexing as his grip tightened on my chair. “I need a moment,” he answered, standing. “Excuse me.”
He left, his empty chair a bigger distraction than I wanted to admit.
Pop’s head rose, his gaze following his departing grandson. My stomach clenched, my chest tight. I wasn’t sure what brought on the panic, but it was there suddenly, seizing me.
“What’s he doing?” I hissed at Jonathan. “Where’s he going? Is it normal for people just to leave in this house?”
He stared at his plate. “Sometimes.”
Pushing my plate away, I shot to my feet.
“Tansy?” Hetty asked.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, heading in the same direction I’d seen Eli go.
I didn’t know the house, but it wasn’t too difficult to figure out. The first level had an open floor plan, and I stepped through the rooms carefully, peering through arched entries into empty rooms.
When I didn’t find anyone, I went outside. Darkness had fallen, throwing everything in shadows. A porch light threw a glow over the yard, but beyond the glare, the orchard was an empty hole.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eli’s angry voice asked.
Tiptoeing down the stairs into the yard, I found myself staring at Ivy and Mandy, their backs to me, Eli facing them. No one saw me, and I sank against the side of the porch into a dark spot untouched by the light above us.
“You think I don’t recognize the symptoms?” Eli asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mandy replied.
“The hell you don’t.” He ran his hand through his hair, lifting his shirt.
“No one asked you to come out here,” Ivy remarked coolly. “We don’t need you.”
Eli laughed, a hardness I’d never heard before in the sound. “You don’t ever ask for much do you, Mother?”
“Ivy,” she corrected.
He laughed again. “Do either of you care about anyone at all? Or is it about you all of the time?”
“You’re just angry,” Mandy pointed out.
“Of course I’m angry. Hell, the two of you are the reason I’m in this mess to begin with. I’m not an alcoholic, but because of you, I’ve spent two stints in alcohol programs listening to people who really do have a problem with it.”
“It didn’t hurt you any,” Ivy said. “You could use a little more compassion, Eli.”
Eli froze, his gaze on Mandy’s face. “How fucked up are you? What are you on?”
My eyes widened, my fingers falling to the bushes I’d pushed myself into.
“You can go to hell, Eli Lockston. We had it good the two of us. I know that, and you know that. You messed it up. Not me. All you had to do was learn your grandfather’s business. That’s it. I needed it, and you knew that. I need the stability. I need it,” Mandy fumed.
Desperation filled her voice, the sound crawling into my body and making a home there. I knew the kind of desperation I heard in her. I felt it more than I wanted to admit. She was scared.
“You didn’t trust me,” Eli told her. “You didn’t trust me enough to find my own way. I don’t need the casino. I don’t want it.”
“You don’t understand,” Mandy hissed. “I couldn’t take that chance. You’ve seen my family, Eli. You saw the trailer I grew up in, the way my mom is. I can’t stay in that place.”
“You didn’t have to,” he growled. “You knew that. You knew you could have stayed with me.”
“And worry about bills? About food?” she asked.
“Seriously? There was nothing to worry about! I may not like depending on my grandfather, but I would have for you until I finished school. Or until I’d brought in enough from boxing.”
Mandy’s shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t take that chance.”
“So you go off and get pregnant. By Lincoln.”
She shrugged. “He has a future he’s not guessing at, Eli. He’s sure, and he’s doing well.”
Eli stared at her, squinting. “You’re on something.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! Leave her alone,” Ivy warned.
“Why?” Eli asked. “Did you give it to her?”
“Why the fuck do you care?” Mandy snapped. “I’m none of your business anymore.”
He glared. “You’re carrying my cousin’s baby, Mandy. I may not like either of you very much right now, but that baby didn’t do anything to you. Not a damn thing. If you’re on drugs—”
“Stop!” she cried. “It’s just pain meds.”
Rage filled Eli’s face. Years and years of rage. Rage I couldn’t comprehend but knew came from his past, from the years his mother drugged him. My heart rate climbed, fear skittering down my spine.
“Why you—”
“Hey,” I said suddenly, thrusting myself away from the porch, “is everything okay?”
Everyone froze, their stares finding me in the darkness. For the first time since meeting Eli, I realized how much I didn’t know about him or his family.
“You okay?” I asked, my eyes locked on his. I didn’t see anything beyond Eli and his rage.
He exhaled, his muscles visibly relaxing despite the remaining anger on his face.
Mandy stumbled back a few steps. “This is ridiculous. All of it!”
Eli glanced at her. “Is it?”
She paused, her gaze flicking from Eli to me. “You’re with that? She looks like more of a mess than I am.”
We spoke together, a jumbled “I’m not with her” and “I’m not with him.”
“Then what the hell is she,” Mandy gestured at the house, “and them doing here?”
My gaze moved over her face, over pallid features and dark eye circles. She’d been beautiful from afar. Up close, she still was, but in a desperate way.
“I’m not really sure,” I whispered.
“I’m doing community service for her grandmother,” Eli inserted.
I looked at Ivy who was standing motionless, a beautiful statue covered in porch glow. Everyone here was suffering, in their own way. Some of us dealing with it better than others. Maybe that’s what life did—shoved messes together, crumbling them up into one big ball. It made sense. I didn’t know many “put together” families who mixed with “not put together” ones.
&nbs
p; Mandy blundered across the lawn, pitched forward, and then jerked her heels off one by one with a curse. “I need to sit down a minute.”
Eli massaged his temples. “Shit, I need a—”
“Drink,” Ivy finished snidely.
“A gun,” I threw in quietly. Out of nowhere. Because, in my head, it sounded funny. Kind of.
Everyone looked at me.
I shrugged. “Somehow that sounded saner in my head. As if me saying it seemed a lot less homicidal.”
Eli's lips twitched as he looked at me, but hardened when his gaze returned to Mandy. “You need to straighten up. You can go to jail for taking stuff while pregnant.”
A sob escaped Mandy, tears chasing each other down her cheeks.
For some reason, I wanted to comfort her, but I stayed silent. Watching.
Eli glared. “Fuck it!”
He stormed away, chased off by the tears, leaving me with two very big messes.
TWENTY
Eli
There was too much noise in my head, anger battling with misgivings.
The dinner had broken up, the remaining guests having moved to the living room; discussing, laughing, and drinking iced tea. All except Jonathan and Deena, mutual boredom etched into their features.
My hand found Lincoln’s shoulder where he sat on the sofa. “We need to talk, man,” I muttered, nodding at the door.
Pops’ gaze raked over us, but he left us alone. That’s what he’d brought me … us here for after all. For resolution. He wanted me to talk to these people, to fix our issues, but he was underestimating my stubbornness and our family’s instability.
Setting his glass of tea down on the living room coffee table, Lincoln stood. “Yeah, sure.”
My cousin was older than me by two years and shorter than me by four inches. Other than that, I looked more like Lincoln than I did my siblings. We’d often been mistaken as brothers growing up. I hated it.
“What's this about?” Lincoln asked, following me into a den at the back of the house.
“Did you know Mandy was taking drugs?”
Lincoln froze. “What are you doing, Eli?”
