Page 15 of Cloudless

DISINFECTANT WIPE

LILA

The clattering of dishes and the piercing scrape of a fork against a plate frays my already fragile nerves. My leg bounces so vigorously under the table that my teeth rattle. Condensation drips down the side of the untouched glass of ice water in front of me.

The door to the restaurant swings open as a lightning bolt of dread zings down my spine.

My muscles release a tenth of their tension as a haggard-looking mother comes through the door. Her son pulls her through the crowded room as she balances a sleeping little girl on her hip.

The trio disappears into the crowd to join the equally haggard father as I reread Kam’s texts.

Kam

Posey just put Dax in his place. I wish you could have seen her.

Ellie and Posey are officially best friends.

*photo of Posey and Ellie coloring*

I might have promised Jasper I’d take him to a Flyers game soon.

*photo of Jasper watching the Flyers game on the couch with the guys*

I scroll through the photos he’s sent me in the twenty minutes since I dropped Jasper and Posey off at his townhouse. My heart warms with every swipe as I take in the twins’ smiles.

I’m doing this for them.

If the judge thinks they’re my best shot at a support system, then that’s exactly what I’m going to pursue.

The mental timeline for this visit I spent many sleepless nights working through flows like a slideshow through my mind.

A respectful introduction. Maybe even a handshake.

I offer them a seat at the table I purposefully requested in the quietest part of the restaurant.

We bond over our loss.

They ask how I’ve been holding up after losing the most crucial people in my life.

The slideshow goes on and on until I get dizzy.

The door to the restaurant opening stings of betrayal as I open the door to a relationship my mom and dad fought so hard to protect us from.

My heart beats a crescendo with every step they take toward me. His dark, tailored suit and her black dress are more fitting for the funeral they didn’t bother attending for my parents than a steakhouse on a Sunday afternoon.

Eyes so similar in color to my mom’s but so different in sincerity appraise me. Her perfect, white curls don’t move an inch as she tilts her head to the side in silent inspection.

Her calculating gaze glides from my simple navy heels, past my white sundress, to settle on my loose curls. With one look, she scrutinizes every failure I’ve had in her absence over the past ten years. “Hello, Lila.”

My eyes beg for permission to look away. I refuse to give it. “Hello, Grandmother.”

A gruff voice I so seldom heard, I had forgotten its cadence speaks from behind her. “Lila.”

My gaze shifts to be snared by stern, grey eyes. “Hello, Grandfather.”

My hands stay locked at my sides as I remain determined to resist the urge to fidget as they glance around the local steakhouse I picked for lunch today.

The slight scrunch of my grandmother's nose is the only sign of her displeasure as her eyes shift back to me. “Shall we sit?”

She pulls the seat out directly across from me before I have time to reply. I don’t know why she bothered asking.

Her white tipped nails deftly unclasp her purse as we all get settled at the table. The restraint it takes to not roll my eyes as she pulls a disinfectant wipe from her bag is award worthy.

Awkwardness descends around us as she takes her time wiping down their side of the table. “So, Lila. What did you want to discuss? We were shocked to receive your email last week.”

My voice reflects an air of confidence I don’t feel. “Well, as you know, my parents passed away a few months ago.”

She interrupts, “Yes. A tragedy indeed.” Her tone matches what you might expect of someone talking about the weather, not her dead daughter.

“Yes. A tragedy. And I was wondering if?—”

“You want money?” This interruption comes from my grandfather. His sudden, harsh tone almost makes me flinch. Almost.

I shake my head as they turn to one another. “No, I?—”

My grandfather at least has the decency to lower his voice. “I told you, Victoria. She only wants money.”

“No, that’s not?—”

My grandmother, however, lacks the decency to lower her voice as they continue to talk like I’m not sitting right in front of them. “You’re right, Maxwell. It’s only ever about money.”

“I don’t want your damn money!” My eyes spring open at my outburst. I don’t need to look around me to know I have many eyes staring me down from the neighboring tables.

The smallest hint of light enters Victoria's eyes with my outburst before she extinguishes it behind her scowl.

I straighten my spine and clear my throat as they both narrow their eyes in my direction. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say is, I did not ask you to meet me today to ask for money.”

Victoria scoffs like I’m the one who has been so rudely interrupting them and not the other way around. “Well then, what did you ask us here for?”

I would fucking tell you if you’d give me a chance.

I take a deep breath to calm my heart and slow my tongue. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to be a part of Jasper and Posey’s lives.”

Their eyebrows draw down as they share a confused look before Victoria says, “Who is that?”

My mouth falls open as I volley my gaze between the two strangers sitting in front of me.

Of all the things I had mentally prepared myself for today, their lack of knowledge about Jasper and Posey wasn't one of them. Of course they wouldn’t know they exist. How could they? “My, uh, brother and sister.”

For the first time since my grandparents sat down, their eyes light up with interest that sends a beat of apprehension down my spine.

Victoria leans forward ever so slightly in her seat. “How old are they?”

I unconsciously lean away from her as her sudden movement forces a current of her perfume to wash over me. “They’re seven.”

Maxwell’s voice does not reflect the interest barely concealed in his eyes. “Twins, then?”

All I can manage is a quick nod of my head as I watch them exchange a look I can’t decipher.

Maxwell stands like a posh robot and digs around in his suit pocket. Victoria’s eyes flash with confusion for a moment before she follows her husband’s silent sign that this meeting is over.

I sit, frozen in place, as my heartbeat roars in my ears. My carefully laid out plans crumble around me as I face their rejection.

No.

This can’t be happening.

I can’t lose them because of these people.

My eyebrows disappear into my hairline as Maxwell hands me a crisp, white card.

“We will meet with them. My assistant will call you with the information. Send your phone number to the email listed here.” I barely register the fifty-dollar-bill being thrown onto a table we’ve hardly used as I examine his business card.

In my peripherals, I watch as Victoria smooths the imaginary wrinkles out of her black dress and Maxwell buttons his suit jacket. They’re oblivious to the tornado currently wrecking my thoughts.

My neck aches from the whiplash I’ve endured during these few minutes. “You want to meet them?” I free my gaze from the card in my trembling hand to make eye contact with the only family I have left.

The power they hold in their hands is astonishing.

I don’t mean the power they wield with the swipe of a bank card.

No.

I mean the power they hold over two seven-year-olds who mean more to me than anything else in this world.

Maxwell’s eyes narrow in annoyance as he’s forced to repeat himself. “Yes. We will meet with them. I expect that email by the end of the day.”

Without a goodbye, they leave the restaurant as quickly as they came.

What the hell just happened?

The only evidence of them not being a figment of my imagination is the fifty-dollar-bill laying on the table and the crisp, white card in my hand that holds the weight of my entire world.