Authors: Nora Flite
Oh,
please just let this be over with quickly.
“
Can
I say the prayer?” Nicholas piped up, making us all stare at
him.
“
Of
course, son,” our dad nodded, looking delighted by the request.
Hanging
my head, trying my best to quell my irritation, I listened to my
brother as he cleared his throat.
“
Lord,”
he started, “we thank you for allowing us all to be here this
day. In this time of year, where forgiveness and family mean most, we
are... grateful,” he paused, tasting the word, “to all be
blessed to be here together.”
Yes,
I
thought soberly,
grateful,
indeed.
“
We're
thankful for this food, for our accomplishments, and hopefully many
more. Amen,” he finished.
“
Amen,”
I whispered, muted among the rest of the words from everyone else. I
was sure even Leah was louder than me, that time.
My
eyes opened, a split second before anyone else but Nicholas. He was
staring at me, the corner of his mouth turned down just enough in a
knowing frown.
He
said that prayer for me.
Hands
began grabbing the trays on the table, the morose mood soon blocked
out by the sounds and smells of a group of people passing around
food.
Noticing
a bowl of stuffing, I scooped out a large serving, dropping it on my
plate. My appetite was returning with the delicious spread in front
of me.
“
This
is wonderful, Mom,” I commented, swallowing the fluffy bread
and celery mixture. “I don't remember you normally making
stuffing.”
“
Oh,
I didn't,” she said absently, slicing some of her juicy roast.
“Bethany made that.”
The
blonde girl smiled at me, wide and proud. Popping a tiny bite of
green beans into her mouth, she dabbed her lips with a napkin. “I'm
glad you like them, Deacon. I'm surprised you don't remember them,
though, I made that every time we went—”
“
To
your parents, right, yeah.” Frowning, I poked at the clumps,
suddenly not interested.
Beside
me, Leah was quietly digging into the thick mass of sweet potatoes,
content to stay out of the conversation.
Nicholas
didn't seem keen to allow that. Sipping from his glass of milk,
something he had weirdly drank with every meal since we were kids, he
set those intense eyes on my girlfriend. “So, Leah, we didn't
get to properly meet earlier.” His glance at me spoke volumes.
“How was the trip?”
“
Oh,”
she sputtered, caught off guard. Wiping her mouth, far less demurely
than Bethany, she blushed. “Uh, it was good. The flight was
pretty smooth.” I could tell she was trying to be polite, her
mouth forming into a hesitant smile. “I hear you're in school
to become a doctor?”
Laughing,
he leaned back, long hands curling behind his head. “Sort of.
I'm hoping to go into anesthesiology.”
She
lifted her eyebrows, impressed. Seeing her give him that sort of look
dug at me like a rusty nail. “Wow, that's intense.”
“
Yeah,”
he agreed, flashing his sparkling grin. That, too, bothered me. I
wanted to knock him out of his chair, to stop this forced, relaxed
conversation that felt like trickery. “So, tell me, where did
you go to college?”
Oh,
come on, don't ask that!
Furrowing
my brow, I glared at Nicholas, wishing he'd stuff some food in his
mouth and shut up.
Leah
squirmed in her chair, visibly shrinking under this scrutiny. I knew
everyone was watching her now, curious to hear. My family put,
perhaps, entirely too much stock into accolades.
“
Well,”
she breathed. I could see her hands under the table, squeezing her
knees. “Uh, I went to Venti & Fallows.”
“
What's
that?” My dad asked, pausing in destroying his roast.
“
Erm,
just a culinary school, nothing else.”
“
Oh!”
I saw the delight on my mom's face and winced. “That's lovely,
so you got your degree in culinary? I've always thought chefs were
some of the most amazing people, it's so hard to—”
Leah
shook her head, hair flipping. “No, no,” she mumbled,
“that... I mean, yes, I went there, but I didn't exactly—”
“
She
decided to become a painter,” I blurted, unable to handle where
the topic had been about to go. Leah stared at me, open-mouthed and
dubious.
I'm
trying to help you,
I
pleaded with her mentally, hoping she would understand.
The
only hint of emotion was a flicker of sorrow on her face, before she
looked down at her plate, poking the shiny yellow corn. “Um,
yeah, I'm painting now.”
Nicholas
was eyeing us, bird-like, curious. It wasn't a look I wanted to be on
the other end of.
He's
wondering why I cut her off. He doesn't need to know she dropped out
of college, no one needs to know that. They'd judge her harshly
before understanding why.
Bethany,
however, looked genuinely interested. “You paint, too?”
“
Yeah,”
Leah nodded, giving up on trying to eat. Setting her fork down, she
pushed her hair behind her ears. “He got me a space in his
gallery, to help me start.”
“
That's
nice,” she mused, looking at me speculatively. “I haven't
seen his work in a long time.”
“
He's
really good,” Leah declared, as if Bethany might be subtly
implying otherwise. “I've never met someone so talented.”
Heat
ran up my neck, the combination of her honest words, and my ex's
bemused expression, setting me on edge. “Don't listen to her,
she's better than I am, honestly.”
“
No
I'm not,” she stated, staring at me in confusion.
She
still doesn't think so,
I
thought silently, wondering if I should be thankful for her modesty.
Knowing
how critical Bethany could be, I was simply happy there was nothing
of Leah's here for her to tear apart. The last thing I needed was for
my ex to give her a confidence complex.
My
dad set his glass down, swallowing loudly. “Well, you'd have to
be good to make it anywhere as an artist these days. It's not exactly
a reliable job, if you ask me.” Smiling at Nicholas, he
gestured openly. “Your brother knows what to do. How do you
think you did on those finals, son?”
Nicholas
chuckled, shrugging into his ears. “I don't know, I think I did
really well, though. Guess we'll see.”
“
Guess
we'll see,” I repeated, watching him flatly. He knew how much I
hated how these conversations went. Even after all this time, there
was a clear belief that I'd picked the inferior major in college.
The
rest of dinner went by peacefully, the chit-chat dissolving into
talks about the current college football teams and who might actually
win this season.
I
helped my mother clear the table, before following Leah upstairs on
the pretense of helping her pack back up for the trip to my
grandparents the next day.
The
moment we entered the room she was staying in, I pushed the door shut
almost completely. Only a crack remained, simply because I knew
anything else would seem inappropriate.
“
Hey,”
I whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Leah had been facing
away when she entered, but before I even brushed her skin, she
twisted and wrapped her way into my arms.
Her
face rubbed into my chest deeply, muffling her frustrated groan.
“What the hell is going on?” She asked, staring up at me,
those emotional eyes on the verge of tears. I couldn't tell if they
were from anger, or despair. “Why is Bethany here? Am I crazy,
or is she
actually
dating your brother?”
“
You're
not crazy,” I sighed, holding her tightly against me until I
could feel her blood pumping. “That's exactly what's going on.”
“
Ridiculous,”
she growled, crushing me around the ribcage, almost hurting me. “This
is so ridiculous! How is this possible? Do I just have bad luck, or
something?”
“
What?”
I asked, stunned by her line of thought.
Leah
blinked up at me, her hair mussed and out of place. “Sorry, but
don't you see? This is just the most unlikely thing! To have her—to
have them be together, around us, for this whole trip? How is that
anything but bad luck?”
Frowning,
I smoothed a strand of her mahogany hair off her forehead. “That's
not what I meant, I was trying to say, bad luck for
you?
Leah,” I huffed, exhausted from the whole mess, “this is
my ex, dating my younger brother. I think if anyone is unlucky here,
it's me.”
That
made her pause, expression shifting from exasperation to sympathy.
“You're right. Dammit, I'm being stupid... yeah, sure, this
sucks for me, but you're the one really getting knocked around here.”
Chuckling,
I set my chin on the top of her head. “It's pretty ridiculous,
though, you're right. I just—I never even imagined the two of
them together.”
She
was quiet for a minute, her fingers tracing up and down my back as I
held her. “Deacon,” she said gently.
“
Hmn?”
“
What
happened when you and Nicholas went outside?”
My
tension was immediate; in my grip, Leah shivered, feeling my mood
change to something far more dark. “Nothing important
happened.”
“
Please,”
she whispered, trying to dislodge herself enough to meet my eyes; I
wouldn't let her, I held her tight. “Please, just tell me. I
need to know.”
No,
you don't.
Despite
my thoughts, I squeezed my eyes closed and grit my teeth. “It
was just... I needed to hear him say it. That they were together.”
“
And?”
“
And
what?”
“
What
else?” She asked, pressing me.