Page 84
He gasped when Brenda reached for her glass of iced tea and accidentally spilled it in his lap.
As he jumped to his feet, slapping the ice cubes off him, his wife followed him up with a handful of napkins, immediately pressing it against his crotch.
“Brenda!” Phil grasped her wrist and glanced around as if scandalized. “Not in public.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” Brenda sighed and glanced at me. “Excuse us for a minute,” she told me. Taking Phil’s arm, she led him away toward the bathrooms.
I stared after them in wonder. Phil reminded me so much of Oren in some ways. And Brenda...she was just awesome.
As soon as they were out of sight, I slapped Oren in the arm. Hard.
“You asshole,” I hissed. “Your parents are amazing.”
He glanced at me with a confused frown. “Well, yeah. I never said they weren’t.”
“But...you made it sound like it was such a hardship to see them again, as if they were terrible, but they’re...they’re really amazing. They love you and care about you and want to know what’s happening in your life. How can you not appreciate any of that? I mean, if I’d had just one parent who was even half as interested in me as both of yours are in you, I’d—”
My voice cracked, so I settled for glaring at him. He had no idea how great he had it in the family department. I mean, I appreciated everything Noel had gone through to bring us to Ellamore and save us from the life we’d been living. And I never would’ve made it as far as I had without Colton and Brandt around to suffer through with me, but...I still wished I’d had a mom who’d given a shit. Or even known who my father was.
But no, I had nothing, while Oren had everything; and he was complaining about it.
Spoiled bastard.
“I didn’t say they were bad parents. They’re not, not at all. And they’re supportive. Maybe too supportive. But they’re just—”
He broke off when he saw them returning.
I glanced over too, prepared to ask if everything was better. But something had changed in the time since Brenda and Phil had left the table to dry Phil. They looked stoic, almost sympathetic.
“Shit,” Oren muttered beside me. “Here it comes.”
I glanced at him, but he was too busy scowling at his parents.
They stopped in front of our table, but instead of sitting, they remained standing, obviously ready to make some kind of big united-front announcement.
Oren tensed beside me, so I slid my hand under the table until it found his. He had balled his fingers into a tight fist, but he opened them for me so he could squeeze his around mine.
“Oren,” his mother started. “I understand how much you don’t like talking about her, but we thought you should know... Your father and I petitioned the town to set up a memorial for Zoey in the city park, and they’ve agreed. We want you to come to the grand opening next weekend.”
I have no idea why hearing my parents talk about her always made me physically ill. But my stomach revolted, bile rose in my throat, and my vision went wonky.
“Really?” Surging to my feet, I glared across the table. “You’re going to bring this shit up in front of my new girlfriend?” And I’d been so sure Caroline would be the perfect buffer to keep family drama out of the conversation.
Mom glanced at Caroline, her eyes wide with alarm before she turned back to me. “This shit is your sister’s legacy. Don’t you want to honor her?”
The swirling in my gut turned into little needles of agony. I doubled slightly, setting my hands on my hips in an attempt to hide how much I hurt. “I don’t even want to think about it,” I hissed.
Mom sighed out a sad breath as Dad grasped her hand. I hated distressing them, but fuck, why did they always have to force this on me?
“Sweetheart, this is not healthy. Pretending she never existed isn’t going to stop it from hurting.”
Yeah, well, I had to disagree. It’d worked pretty damn well for me for the past four years.
When my dad tried to say something next, I held up a hand and snapped, “Don’t.”
“We think you need help.” Mom rushed out the words, making me jerk in shock.
“What?”
“Our biggest fear was that you’d never be able to move on from what happened. And for a while, we thought you had. But clearly, you’re just repressing it. You haven’t even attempted the stages of grief to work through this, and it’s going to end up coming back and biting you someday when you least expect it.”
“I’m fine,” I exploded. “Please excuse me if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life purposely being all depressed over...over someone who’s never coming back.”
As he jumped to his feet, slapping the ice cubes off him, his wife followed him up with a handful of napkins, immediately pressing it against his crotch.
“Brenda!” Phil grasped her wrist and glanced around as if scandalized. “Not in public.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” Brenda sighed and glanced at me. “Excuse us for a minute,” she told me. Taking Phil’s arm, she led him away toward the bathrooms.
I stared after them in wonder. Phil reminded me so much of Oren in some ways. And Brenda...she was just awesome.
As soon as they were out of sight, I slapped Oren in the arm. Hard.
“You asshole,” I hissed. “Your parents are amazing.”
He glanced at me with a confused frown. “Well, yeah. I never said they weren’t.”
“But...you made it sound like it was such a hardship to see them again, as if they were terrible, but they’re...they’re really amazing. They love you and care about you and want to know what’s happening in your life. How can you not appreciate any of that? I mean, if I’d had just one parent who was even half as interested in me as both of yours are in you, I’d—”
My voice cracked, so I settled for glaring at him. He had no idea how great he had it in the family department. I mean, I appreciated everything Noel had gone through to bring us to Ellamore and save us from the life we’d been living. And I never would’ve made it as far as I had without Colton and Brandt around to suffer through with me, but...I still wished I’d had a mom who’d given a shit. Or even known who my father was.
But no, I had nothing, while Oren had everything; and he was complaining about it.
Spoiled bastard.
“I didn’t say they were bad parents. They’re not, not at all. And they’re supportive. Maybe too supportive. But they’re just—”
He broke off when he saw them returning.
I glanced over too, prepared to ask if everything was better. But something had changed in the time since Brenda and Phil had left the table to dry Phil. They looked stoic, almost sympathetic.
“Shit,” Oren muttered beside me. “Here it comes.”
I glanced at him, but he was too busy scowling at his parents.
They stopped in front of our table, but instead of sitting, they remained standing, obviously ready to make some kind of big united-front announcement.
Oren tensed beside me, so I slid my hand under the table until it found his. He had balled his fingers into a tight fist, but he opened them for me so he could squeeze his around mine.
“Oren,” his mother started. “I understand how much you don’t like talking about her, but we thought you should know... Your father and I petitioned the town to set up a memorial for Zoey in the city park, and they’ve agreed. We want you to come to the grand opening next weekend.”
I have no idea why hearing my parents talk about her always made me physically ill. But my stomach revolted, bile rose in my throat, and my vision went wonky.
“Really?” Surging to my feet, I glared across the table. “You’re going to bring this shit up in front of my new girlfriend?” And I’d been so sure Caroline would be the perfect buffer to keep family drama out of the conversation.
Mom glanced at Caroline, her eyes wide with alarm before she turned back to me. “This shit is your sister’s legacy. Don’t you want to honor her?”
The swirling in my gut turned into little needles of agony. I doubled slightly, setting my hands on my hips in an attempt to hide how much I hurt. “I don’t even want to think about it,” I hissed.
Mom sighed out a sad breath as Dad grasped her hand. I hated distressing them, but fuck, why did they always have to force this on me?
“Sweetheart, this is not healthy. Pretending she never existed isn’t going to stop it from hurting.”
Yeah, well, I had to disagree. It’d worked pretty damn well for me for the past four years.
When my dad tried to say something next, I held up a hand and snapped, “Don’t.”
“We think you need help.” Mom rushed out the words, making me jerk in shock.
“What?”
“Our biggest fear was that you’d never be able to move on from what happened. And for a while, we thought you had. But clearly, you’re just repressing it. You haven’t even attempted the stages of grief to work through this, and it’s going to end up coming back and biting you someday when you least expect it.”
“I’m fine,” I exploded. “Please excuse me if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life purposely being all depressed over...over someone who’s never coming back.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179