The Best I Could (18 page)

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.

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.

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?”

“I’m not doing anything.
Other than saving your unborn baby a hell of a lot of pain.” My
cousin blanched, and I stared, horrified. “You
knew
!”

He wilted, his hands clutching the back of a
black leather sofa. “She’s cut back. She’s working on
stopping.”

I laughed, cruelly. “What's wrong with this
family? Why do we keep doing this kind of shit?”

“We don’t love each other, Eli. Mandy and I …
we just don’t,” Lincoln murmured.

My gaze shot to his face, to the lines
in his forehead. He had broader shoulders and fuller features than
I did. “Then why?” There was no need to explain.

“Because she was yours,” Lincoln admitted.
“She was beautiful, and she was yours. I didn’t realize how much
that played into my attraction for her until she told me she was
pregnant.”

“You wanted her because she was mine?” I
breathed, stunned. “You jackass!”

Lincoln grunted. “You don’t even see it, do
you? Blind as a brickbat. Come on, Eli! The way Pops looks at you,
the way people gravitate toward you … you just don’t see any of it.
Pops acts like you hung the moon, for God’s sake.”

“What a load of bullshit. I’m a tragedy,
Lincoln.”

“Whatever, man.” He waved at me. “You’re not
a tragedy. You just keep getting drawn into other people’s
tragedies. Your mom—”

“What do you know about that?”

Lincoln laughed. “Really?
You think people don’t know? Other than Jonathan that is.
It’s
the
family
scandal. Poor Eli, Heather, and Jonathan. What sucks is that people
love tragedy, Eli. They fucking love drama. They want to be right
there in the middle of it. Either to get a front row seat or
because they want to fix it. For an asshole who keeps making
mistakes, you somehow keep coming out on top of them. Me? I’m
settling.”

I leaned against the den wall, my eyes
dropping to the floor. “What are you really saying, Lincoln?”

“That you’re a dick who needs to quit pitying
himself so much for what happened. People pity you enough as it
is.”

I exhaled. “You don’t put things lightly, do
you?”

“Did you want me to?”

My gaze rose to his. “No, and I’m going to be
just as forthright with you. Get your fiancée off whatever meds
she’s on or I’m reporting her. Damn you and damn her for what
you’re doing to that kid.”

“She used me,” Lincoln admitted. “I didn’t
want a kid.”

“She needed your job. You knew that. You used
her, too. Keep using each other if you want. Just leave the kid out
of it. That kid didn’t want you anymore than you wanted it. As for
Pops, you see how he is. You give him a reason to think you don’t
give a shit about that baby, and he’ll be done with you. For all of
his bluster, he cares about this family or he wouldn’t keep
trying.”

Lincoln left the couch, walked to the den’s
exit, and paused. “Drop the act, cousin. Quit pretending you’re
such a jerk when every time you turn around, you’re trying to fix
people. Quit giving me even more reasons to dislike you.”

“What the hell?”

He snorted. “Don’t. You know as well as I do
that people don’t like being helped. They don’t like crusaders, so
stop being one.” He stormed off.

“No,” I agreed, my eyes on his retreating
back, “people like wallowing in shit.”

He was right about me though, damn it.

Tansy

There was something incredibly eye-opening
about getting thrown into someone else’s messy family. Their
problems. Their flaws.

“We seem so fucking typical, don’t we?” Mandy
sobbed, looking up at me.

I gazed at her, my throat working to swallow
past the tightness invading it. “Not really,” I answered finally.
“I mean, yeah. Kind of. But we all are, right? The things we do.
The things we say.”

“I don’t mean to be that way,” she sniffed,
rubbing the back of her hand across her nose. “I wanted better, I
guess. My mom is a single mother. My dad left when I was young. I
don’t even remember him. Mom works.” She nodded to herself. “She
does. She’s got a job working in the cafeteria at a hospital, but
it’s just not enough sometimes. She … it doesn’t matter. The point
is, I don’t want to turn out that way. I don’t want to struggle. I
don’t want to have to do things to make ends meet.”

I sat down on the steps, keeping my distance,
my arms wrapped around my legs. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”
I asked. “Aren’t you doing things to make ends meet by being with
Eli’s cousin?”

Her tears kept coming, but tears didn’t
frighten me. I envied her the tears. I often wondered if I’d be
better—if I wouldn’t get lost in my head so much—if I could just
cry. Then again, maybe not. Ivy and Mandy were criers. Ivy had
drugged her kids, and Mandy was taking pain pills while
pregnant.

Ivy Lockston, who’d been
watching us quietly, sauntered over to the porch stairs and stared
down at me. “Who are you? I know about my son working at the
rescue, and that he’s going to be working with your sister. Dad
told us as much, but … who are
you
?”

I peered up at her, disturbed by the
curiosity in her gaze. “I don’t understand the question.”

“People misunderstand me,” she said, leaning
toward me. “I don’t know what my son has told you about me, but it
isn’t true.” She squinted at me. “Are you into Eli?”

My lips parted, my gaze locked on hers. I
didn’t doubt what Eli had told me about Ivy. I could see it in her
eyes, could see the anxiety and panic there. She was the kind of
person I was afraid to get to know. The kind of person who could
convince people that whatever was wrong with her was everyone
else’s fault.

“I’m not into anyone,” I answered finally.
Standing, I brushed off the bottom of my shorts. “It all gets to be
too much occasionally.” I glanced from Mandy to Ivy. “I know that.
Things get to be too much for me, too, sometimes. I’m sorry.”

With that, I stepped off of the stairs and
walked around the house toward the parked cars in the driveway. A
lamppost to the side of the house threw glares over the
windshields, turning the vehicles into lonely, obedient children
waiting to go somewhere.

Eli and his family were too much for me. I
hugged myself, blowing my cheeks out on an exhale.

Gravel crunched. “Hey, there you are.” I
twisted around to find Eli standing in the drive, frowning. “I
didn’t see you with Mandy and Mom, so I came around.”

“Are they always like that?” I asked, nodding
at the house.

He chuckled, which should have seemed out of
place, but it didn’t. “That’s my family for you. Not all of them.
I’ve got normal family, too. Boring ones even.”

“They’re pretty intense,” I admitted.

“Says the girl who—”

“My dad died,” I interrupted. “We were normal
before that. When my mom was still here, we were happy—”

“Were you?” His eyes pierced me. “Are you
pushing me away, roof girl? Because that’s a pretty crappy way to
treat a friend.”

“So we’re friends?”

He shrugged. “Only if you need one.”

“Yeah … I do.”

He took a step forward. “Then don’t worry
about all of that.” He waved at the side of the house. “Drama is
background noise in our family.”

“God, you aren’t kidding.” Jonathan’s voice
broke into the darkness.

Stepping into the light, he grimaced, Deena
behind him.

She glared. “Next time you decide to sneak
out of a stuffy family invite, take me with you, okay?”

“I think they’re done anyway.” Jonathan
yawned. “We walked out while Pops was talking Ms. Anderson into
letting Tansy come work in the yard here.”

“What?” Eli and I exclaimed together.

Deena grinned. “Something about how
therapeutic it would be for you, Tansy. Isn’t that what the boxing
is supposed to be for me?”

Eli pulled a face. “Pops suggested it?”

Jonathan’s shoulders rose. “Yeah, said—”

The door swung open, squeaking, and Hetty
strode out, a cordial, “Thank you for the meal,” echoing behind
her.

“Come on, girls,” she ordered.

Deena skipped to the van, shoving me lightly
as she passed. “Doesn’t feel good, does it?” she hissed. “Having
people do what they think is best for you.”

I stared after her.

Pops marched into the yard, his hands clasped
behind his back, gaze straight ahead. “I heard you like to garden,”
he said, stopping next to me. “Hetty says it’s a hobby of
yours.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good,” he murmured. “My wife used to
like to do it as well. Personally, I kill plants. It’s nice to meet
you, Tansy. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

The bold words chased me to the van, to the
quarreling duo within.

We were almost home when Hetty looked at me
and said, “You’re going to be doing some work for the Lockstons.
Starting tomorrow.”

She didn’t give me a choice.

“It’s the weekend,” I protested.

“It’s as good a time as any,” she
countered.

Decision made.

Eli

“What was that?” I asked when I walked back
into the house.

Pops stood in the living room, the family
surrounding him. Lincoln lolled on the recliner, the white fabric a
perfect match to the sofa, all of it custom made. Jonathan, who
leaned against the wall, looked as disturbed as I felt.

“You didn’t think one night with this family
was enough?” I added.

From her usual place on the sofa, Ivy
grinned, serene in the face of my misery. Beside her, Mandy
slumped, her eyes bloodshot, her head pushed into the couch
cushion. One glance and anger consumed me, but I reined it in, my
gaze on Pops.

“I’m trying to figure out how being here is
supposed to be therapeutic for anyone,” Jonathan murmured. For
once, he agreed with me.

Pops glanced at the fireplace mantle, his
gaze landing on an old photo of Grams. “I think this place needs
what Tansy can give it.”

“Oh, great,” Mandy groaned. “This place needs
more messes. Right on. Let’s just add to it then. I’m really glad
we’re leaving in the morning.”

“Hush, Mandy,” Lincoln cautioned.

Pops stared, his glinting, suspicious gaze
missing nothing. “Not feeling well, dear?”

“Not really,” she answered, sitting up
straight. “Morning sickness and all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied. “I’ll
be sure to check in with you more often. Maybe speak with your
doctor?”

“Not necessary,” Mandy inserted quickly, her
gaze flying over the room. “It’s nothing a little rest won’t
fix.”

“All the same. Have you added me as an
emergency contact on the paperwork?” Pops inquired, his gaze
sliding to Lincoln. “And on the information release forms?”

“That’s an invasion of privacy!” Mandy
protested.

“Do you want me to continue supporting your
family?” Pops asked. “Lincoln’s job depends on his family’s
happiness and health.”

The look he gave her discouraged any
discussion. It simply presented her with two options: friend or
foe.