The Remaining Sister

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The Remaining Sister Page 17

by Leanne Davis


  Dressing in black slacks and a white blouse as she used to do, she applied makeup and wrapped her hair in a careful knot on her head with a few curls escaping. She ate breakfast and waved at Chet, who wasn’t working until later. Her heart swelled. What would that be like? After hiding out for weeks at his place, how would that translate in the work environment where the dynamics were turned upside-down? At work, she was the owner, leader, and boss; she had the final say. How could their newfound connection survive that? What did it mean? Apprehension washed over her. She didn’t have the energy, however, to worry how it would go.

  She drove first to her parents’ house, entering the front door with a heavy heart. The place was in utter disarray. Guilt flooded her mind as she took in the volume of the mess. She hadn’t been there in six weeks. Which was once unheard of. But not for them. Not once in that time did either parent ask her where she was, or why she hadn’t come by. They didn’t even ask how she was. She doubted they knew she hadn’t been at the café in that long either. She walked through their house, picking up a few things and setting them on the counter. “Mom? Dad?”

  She found her dad in his den, lying on the couch, and staring at the TV. He glanced up at her, without bothering to swing his feet down to get up. Clad in dirty pajamas, Chloe saw dried food stains on his chest. “Hey, honey,” he muttered, still staring at the TV.

  Concerned, she stepped closer. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Oh, she went to visit her friend, Calista, for a few days.”

  “What? I just talked to her. She didn’t mention anything about that.”

  He clicked the TV remote without glancing up. “No? Well, I think it was a last-minute decision.”

  “Dad?” he was staring at an infomercial about an anti-depressant. “Dad?” she insisted louder, stepping closer. “Are you two doing okay?”

  He glanced up at her finally. “Well, we’re still kicking. So I guess so.”

  “I’m going back to work today.”

  “Yeah. That’s what you do.”

  “Dad, I haven’t worked since Ebony’s funeral.”

  “Oh? No? Well, then, good luck.” He snapped the remote back on and the TV blared between them, essentially drowning her out. She sighed, her heart dipping. Sure. Things were great. “Okay. Bye then, Dad. If you need anything…”

  But he didn’t answer. He lay his head back down on the filthy throw pillow and stared upwards.

  Sighing, she left and pulled into her parking spot at the café. She stared longingly at the back door handle, giving herself a pep talk. Act and be professional. No more stupid shit. No exploding at innocent people. She planned to start by entering her office and sorting through all the paperwork. That’s it. Only a few hours to start. There would be no interaction with customers for sure, and only limited time devoted to the employees. Just a baby step today. Maybe two hours, tops. Sucking in air, she entered her own kitchen.

  It was humming away and Tiana was cooking while Dok and Petra served. Chloe waved at them. “Hi.” Everyone stopped dead, but Petra stepped forward. “Oh, honey. How are you?”

  Chloe smiled, but her mouth was quivering. “Better.” She glanced at Dok and then back at Petra. “Well, now at least I have a better grip on things, so I promise not to fire anyone.”

  There was a soft, subtle chuckle at her infamous reference. “Honest. I need to get back to work. Get my mind focused on important things again, get it off—”

  “Of course. Of course,” Petra clucked. “Would you like to meet with me about what I’ve been doing?”

  Chloe smiled with waning energy. “No, thanks. Not today. Could I just get a glance at the paperwork and whatever else is on my desk? Eventually, we’ll talk. As of now, you’re still in charge, okay? Do you mind?” It could have been forever. But Chloe bit her tongue. No. She’d be back. She had to get better.

  “Yes. For as long as you need me.”

  She entered her office, but turned back at the door. “I think I’d like you to stay on as manager. I have too much work as it is, and I’m already working at full capacity. I’ve had to let a lot of it go because it was the business end, all the stuff I hated doing when I hoped Ebony would eventually come back and do it. But I need to face reality now, that it’s all mine.”

  “I would love to stay on.” Petra replied enthusiastically and Chloe smiled, but she felt ill at ease. She didn’t want to relinquish control of the kitchen to her wait staff and customers. That was the part she loved. She detested being stuck in the office and attending to paperwork all day or typing on the computer and calling the vendors and… oh, well, it appeared that was her job now.

  She sat down at her desk, stretching her arms out and tapping her fingers nervously. There were piles of mail to go through. She sighed, picking up the first thing she saw. After scanning the bill for coffee, she glanced at another for ice cream and so the pile of bills went.

  Her office door was open. She heard Chet entering when a round of greetings welcomed him. She got up and leaned against the door frame, staring at him. He was casually reaching for the apron he wore around his waist, tying it as he had always done for over three years. How many times had she watched him do that? Not even once did it register with her. Not really. Now? She stared in awe and observed him with a touch of obsession. She found his movements very sexy. He turned and pushed up his sleeves, starting in on the stack of dishes. He bent over, removing the loose food scraps and as he turned, his gaze caught hers. She seemed to be trying to devour him. Her naked longing had to show. She didn’t expect to feel it so strongly either. Not here. Not in this environment. He didn’t show any reaction. Nada. Anyone who saw him right now would never have known he slept with Chloe or said a kind word to her, much less, cooked and cleaned and cared for her. No one could have suspected that he often held her when she wept uncontrollably. How did he do it? She could not comprehend his poise and aplomb. He could stay absolutely neutral. So comfortable in his neutrality, he had no problem acting normal. She couldn’t hide her weary smile. She needed something to boost her resolve. Tears were close to filling her eyelids.

  He finally nodded, but no smile. However, his eyes seemed to exchange sentiments in a long, heartfelt conversation. All at once, his gaze warmed up and somehow, he also managed to shore up her strength.

  He didn’t smile back at her but turned to finish the stack of morning dishes. She sighed, knowing it was nothing for her to be offended over. Part of what helped her recuperate so well was his general neutrality and even nature. His ability to comfort her without getting involved. He could hold her steady by being very cool and levelheaded. But at other times, she wondered why he didn’t react more emotionally to her. Yet, she always felt cared for. She was sure now that he genuinely cared about her, even if his reaction to her wasn’t particularly emotional. She sensed his gaze on her and whatever his dark eyes could manage to communicate, they revealed more feelings than his words ever could. His tone of voice was soothing to her. She turned and tried to concentrate by reviewing the outstanding accounts and invoices. She noted her insurance premiums were due. Petra told her she asked Ryder for help and they sent out the payroll to an accounting firm. It wasn’t cheap either. Chloe cancelled that service immediately. Although she was grateful for the reprieve, she was ready to handle it from now on.

  After work, she stopped by her house. It felt very strange and not like it even belonged to her anymore. Still spotlessly clean from Chet, she had no interest in staying there. Not since the night of her midnight intruder. Now it seemed such a silly thing to be afraid of. One time, one night and the random wannabe intruder scared her so much that she couldn’t stay there anymore? Almost no one knew where she was staying. She grabbed some clothes and headed home—no. Not her home. Duh. She went to Chet’s. She tried to shake off her mental slip. Chet worked until closing and didn’t get home until after that, walking through the door at ten o’clock.

  Chloe was still up, and she set aside some paperwork she brought
home. Chet came close to her, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. She tilted her head up for it. “How did it go?”

  “Fine. I made it. I didn’t even try to fire anyone who didn’t deserve it. So a win. Go me.”

  He smiled as he flopped down near her and stretched his legs out.

  “Your mom was undeniably cool towards me. She say anything about me recently?”

  “Yeah.”

  Chloe squinted at him. He had his hand on her leg and rubbed it but kept his face forward. “And? What? What did she say?”

  He peeked her way. “What she told me, Chloe, was confidential with the unspoken assumption that I wouldn’t repeat it to you. She has no idea that you’ve been practically living with me. So I’m not going to tell you.”

  “She’s mad at what I did to Tara. How I acted.”

  He stayed silent.

  In a huff, she slid down. “Well, my mother left town to escape my dad along with me and Ebony, of course. She didn’t even tell me. But my dad couldn’t turn off the TV for even five minutes to talk to me. Their place is falling apart. And so are they.”

  “You knew that.”

  She turned on her side, stretching her legs on his lap and tucking the pillow further under her head. “Yes. It’s just hard.”

  He patted her leg. “This whole thing is hard.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes. “What if I don’t have the strength to do this? Or face this? Or handle this?”

  “Then you would just have to rely on me.”

  She shut her eyes, sucking in a breath, knowing he didn’t need or require an answer or her eager reassurance. She nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, unable to articulate more.

  Chloe returned to work. It was a drawn-out battle each day that clashed inside her brain and heart and body. She coaxed her body to get up off the couch or bed she was lying on, and dress decently enough to face the public and show up for work. She didn’t just flirt with depression, it fell on her with the impact of an anvil. She could barely breathe under so much pressure. She understood why but that didn’t make dealing with it any easier.

  For Chloe, the only thing that helped was Chet. At home. And at work. She drew a sense of clarity from his penetrating gazes and directness. His presence reminded her to keep functioning. It gave her the strength to refuse to allow her depression to dictate her reaction to others. Several times, he came into her office, shut the door and took her into his arms. Sometimes, she quickly burst into tears. At others, he would quietly tell her to go home. That probably happened more often than her crying at work. At least someone was aware of who she was and understood how she tended to react and feel.

  Without Chet, she would not have been where she was. On most days, she could at least remain upright for a few hours.

  ****

  “Would you come to dinner with me?”

  Chet glanced up at her when Chloe interrupted him. He finished the brush stroke, trying to capture the diverse colors of green on the canvas. He was painting the trees that were clinging to the mountain. “Sure. What are you in the mood for?”

  “No. Eating dinner with my parents.”

  He turned fully around on the stool he sat on, dropping his feet flat on the floor. “What? As… Why… What do you mean?”

  She flopped down on the couch. He was used to her presence. It was expected now. Almost normal. No, totally normal. It was a little strange at first. He wasn’t used to another person in his living space or taking up his time and energy and making him talk and interact at all times, even when he didn’t feel like it. But he was getting used to it now and almost found it normal. Reassuring even.

  “I can’t get my parents’ attention. I don’t know how they’re doing. I was thinking we should have dinner. I stopped by to see my dad again and it was so sad. Lonely. Uncomfortable. Awkward. I can’t go there alone. So I got to thinking, and the only thing that feels tolerable is if you went there with me.”

  “Me?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn’t usually asked to make situations easier, especially social ones. “Um. Are you sure? You want them to know about us and this?”

  “I think I could use your presence there. I don’t care if they know.” She smiled. “Maybe it’ll shock them out of their total apathy towards me.”

  He nodded. “Just let me know when.”

  She set it up for two days later when her mother was back in town. They drove together to her parents’ house. Chloe was quiet, which was more often how she was of late. Though she rarely used to be, at least that was his experience with her. After hours and hours at her café, he had pretty strong firsthand knowledge.

  She didn’t bother to knock, but walked right in. “Mom? Dad? We’re here.”

  Did she prepare them for him? Probably not, if her mother’s expression were any indication. She scrunched up her face. “We?” She stared at Chet and his face must have registered with her because her red-rimmed eyes grew bigger. “The busboy? Why is he here?”

  “Mom. Don’t be so rude. This is Chet. We’re dating now.” She glanced at him, wondering what she wanted out of him. He nodded. Sure. She practically lived at his place. So what else could one call it? But judging by her mother’s surprise, maybe she wasn’t sure what he’d say to that.

  Her mother stared at him, her gaze drifting up and then down, taking in his appearance. He wasn’t the typical man for Chloe. But her mom shrugged and entered the kitchen.

  “Mom? Didn’t you set the table?” Chloe asked, following her. Chet stayed back, retreating to sit on the couch. Minutes later, her dad came in from an adjoining room, wearing flannel pajama pants and an unmatched flannel shirt, haphazardly buttoned over a t-shirt. Chloe turned at his presence and walked toward him, touching his shoulders with her hands and leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

  “Dad?” she said, and her tone was gentle. “Didn’t Mom tell you I was bringing someone to dinner?”

  “Oh.” He tipped his head. “Maybe…”

  She frowned. “Dad? Are you wearing the same clothes from Monday?”

  He frowned too, glancing down at himself. He blew air out of his mouth. “Boy. I don’t think it’s been that long. But maybe.”

  Chloe glanced back at him, twisting her mouth up. She obviously didn’t like her dad’s answer. Chet got onto his feet and stepped forward. She took the cue to introduce him. “Dad. Do you remember Chet? He works for the café?”

  Her dad frowned before he nodded. “Dishwasher? Right?”

  “Yeah. Among other things.” Everyone had a different title for him. He nodded again and that was it. No curious looks. He backed up and flopped down in the recliner behind him. Chloe bit her lip and stared at him, her eyes nearly popping out. She shook her head and turned to Chet. “There’s nothing. No food prepared. No food in the house. They didn’t even try. They knew we were coming—”

  He squeezed her hand, well aware of her concerns. “How about if we order in some pizza? Make it casual?”

  She sniffed and nodded, but her expression showed her devastation. “Should we order some pizza?” she asked, louder now.

  Her mom sank into another side chair. “Sure. That sounds good.” She was munching on a bag of potato chips. Chloe frowned and pulled her phone out to call and order the pizza. The TV was on, thank goodness, and no conversation flowed. There was no interest in Chloe or any discussion. The evening news played on and no one commented on it. Chet watched, but he could see Chloe’s disappointment. She didn’t understand this. When the doorbell rang, he got to his feet, waving her off. He paid for the pizza and brought them to the kitchen counter. There were no clean dishes. She shook her head as she searched cabinets. Neither parent even glanced up from the TV. “There are no clean dishes,” she muttered as she stared at the full sink and full dishwasher. She sighed, starting the dishwasher. He grabbed paper towels and shrugged. It would get the job done. However, it wasn’t enough or okay for Chloe, which she indicated by the way she bit her lip, before tears
started to fill her eyes.

  But she shrugged it off. She took the pizza slices to her parents and then brought them some water, as there was nothing else to offer them.

  She tried to engage them in light conversation. But nothing. She was quiet. They sat near each other, and ate their pizza in total silence but for the background noise of the TV. Finally, there was nothing left to do or pretend to do. Chloe washed all the dishes and put them away before she emptied the garbage. “I guess I’ll have to start coming here and doing this every few days. Kind of like you did for me all those weeks ago.”

  “Now I don’t though. You’re managing,” he said as he finished wiping up the tile.

  Her entire body wilted as she leaned on the counter. “I’m not. I’m not managing and I can’t handle this.” She waved her arms around the kitchen. “They don’t care about anything or anyone. Not me. Not each other. They’re both gone.”

  “Depressed. But they might find their way out of it.”

  “No time soon.”

  “No,” he agreed, keeping his tone quiet. “No time soon.”

  “I’ll need to be their caregiver, huh?”

  “Yes. And I’ll be yours.” She turned towards him when he stepped closer and brought her small frame against his. He kissed the top of her head.

  “I didn’t even know I needed you and now I don’t know how I’d survive this without you.”

  “You don’t have to know anything.”

  She nodded, but her unhappiness with her parents stayed on her face and the half tears created a tragic gleam in her eyes. She kissed each parent goodbye but they didn’t even glance up. She watched them as they stared vacantly at the TV. Zombies. The walking dead. It was eerie. They didn’t seem to notice anything that went on around them and they certainly didn’t care.

  Chloe stared at them for a long while before she gently closed the front door. “Will they make it? Still be married next year? In five more years? What will happen to them? To me?”

  He pulled her to his car. “No way to know any of that. Except what happens to you. That’s strictly up to you.”

 

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