Page 36 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

TIA

Even though the air is cool and the sun is shining at its highest point in the sky, I stand in front of my sister’s door with wet, clammy hands and sweat forming on my hairline.

I focus on a small dent in the door, wondering if her couch dinged it on the day she moved in.

Was she excited to have her own place? Was she scared to be on her own for the first time without the safety of our family?

I came all this way for this exact moment. I knew this was going to end up happening. But I’m one breath away from shitting on her doorstep because of nerves, and that’s not very ladylike.

The upside is having Logan next to me. He doesn’t hold my hand or touch me intimately, but the warmth of his arm against mine as we stand side by side brings me enough comfort to calm my erratic heart.

“It’s going to be okay, T. I got you,” he whispers in my ear, pressing a soft kiss into my hair that completely relaxes me. I want to pull him to my face and kiss the breath out of him, but I give him a reassuring smile instead, and the door finally opens.

I freeze at the sight of a young girl standing in the doorway, staring up at Logan and me like she’s been expecting us.

She barely reaches my chest, and the graphic tee she’s wearing nearly makes me bite through the inside of my cheek to stifle a laugh.

It reads, “I Have Rabies,” complete with a picture of a raccoon standing on its hind legs, wearing a cowboy hat.

The three of us stand there in silence like characters in some bizarre western standoff, our eyes flicking between each other in slow, confused succession.

Logan speaks first. “Sweet shirt.”

“Thanks. I got an A on my math test, so my mom got it for me. She doesn’t like when I wear it in public because I get a lot of weird stares, but I don’t really care,” she says with a shrug.

Her mom?

“Who’s your mom?”

The girl’s face grows sheepish, breaking eye contact to stare at her feet. She has socks with little pizzas on them.

“I’m supposed to be in my room,” she mumbles nervously. I open my mouth to say something until Logan interrupts.

“Well, I’m Logan. And this here is my girlfriend, Tia.”

I choke on my spit, coughing and hacking into my elbow like a crazy person.

Logan chuckles softly, patting my back and moving his hand in circles over it.

It’s the first time he’s ever put a label on anything.

Never in my twenty-eight years of life did I think I’d ever hear Logan Harper utter the words “my girlfriend.” Let alone to have said girlfriend be me.

Once my coughing fit subsides, the young girl’s face twists in slight disgust at my coughing fit—which makes me laugh a little—and I straighten myself out to gain composure.

“I’m Ca?—”

“Calista,” Nora scolds. “I told you to wait in your room.”

“I’m not sure who this Calista person is you keep talking about. It’s Cali . Ca-li.”

Nora appears behind the young girl who I know now is named Calista—or Cali, according to her. My stomach drops at my feet, glued to the welcome mat. My breaths come in short bursts, and the panic building in my chest is becoming too much to overcome.

Minus the deep blue eyes, it’s clear as day to me who Calista’s mom is. The oval face. The exact hair color. The attitude to match.

No.

I shove the bile threatening to launch out of my throat.

“Okay, Cali ,” Nora emphasizes with nothing but sarcasm in her voice. “Go to your room, and I’ll let you know when lunch is ready.”

“But—”

“Now,” Nora orders, narrowing her eyebrows. Cali mumbles ‘fine’ under her breath before stomping off down the hall. A door shuts. At least Cali doesn’t slam doors like I did when I was younger. Mom hated that more than anything. I stare at my sister almost despondently. I’m numb. Borderline angry.

Nora moves to the side, gesturing for Logan and I to come in. I hate feeling this awkwardness between us. Even though we saw each other just last night, I find my feet faltering now that I’m stepping into her home. A home she made all on her own. My breaths come in an unsteady cadence.

Am I ready for this?

Once Nora shuts the door behind us, my eyes lock on the door at the end of the hall. The door is decorated with colorful, hand-drawn pictures of cartoon characters and other faces I don’t recognize. There are phrases written in funky bubble letters with every color of the rainbow.

With a shaky breath, I turn toward Nora, her eyes misty, chewing on her bottom lip as she stares at Cali’s door, then back at me. I need to hear her say it.

“Who is she?” My body trembles with sweat beads pricking along my spine.

“Let’s go to the living room and sit,” Nora deflects, walking away deeper into the house without waiting for my response.

My apprehensiveness suddenly morphs into a whiplash of blood-red anger.

Logan’s hand gently grips my elbow, but I jerk it off of me.

Needles prick my skin, warming my face with rage as my feet anchor into the floor.

“No! Stop walking away from me. You’ve done it once.

Don’t even think about doing it again. Now answer me, Nora.

Who. Is. She.” I punctuate each word with pain, unable to hold back the years of resentment I’ve been harboring.

It’s Nora’s life, not mine. But the selfish decision she made to leave affected us as a family more than she will ever know.

Especially now. Especially if she slaps me with a truth I’m dreading, yet hopeful, to hear.

It’s a strange sensation of push and pull, juxtaposing emotions crashing into each other at full speed.

I know who Cali is. It hurts more than a thousand burning knives stabbing into my heart, but I know. I just need my sister to own up and say it. I need her to fucking say it. And her walking away from me—from this—just to delay the responsibility really pisses me off.

Nora halts her steps, her back to Logan and me. Her body is tense, rigid in the shoulders. I can see the guilt rolling off her in waves. When she turns around, her face falls and the tears she tried to hold in fail.

My eyes blur, but I steel my spine, glancing at Logan for a moment to gain a little strength. The moment his eyes connect with mine, I feel a little more brave.

“She’s mine.”

There it is. The truth that is now a red handprint on my cheek. Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite. I wish the floor would open up and take me down into its unknown depths, where no one will find me.

This whole time …

The emotions inside me are too much to withstand. A violent storm of anger, sadness, and resentment works its way through me. My stomach threatens to empty right here in the doorway.

“T,” Logan whispers quietly in my ear. My eyes don’t leave Nora’s, but he knows I hear him. “Go sit with her. I’ll go back to the hotel and wait for you.”

“No,” I blurt out, breaking eye contact with Nora to plead with the familiar brown eyes filled with so much empathy it makes my heart stutter. “Please don’t leave. I need … I?—”

“Okay. I won’t go, baby.” He shocks me out of my panic by gripping my chin with his thumb and index finger, placing a tender kiss on my tear-stained lips. I choke back a cry as the man before me, my best friend, stands firmly by my side when the world around me quakes.

He’s my steady. My constant. My solace.

“But I’ll give you some space. I’ll go see what Cali is up to. She seems like a cool kid.” I smile and nod at the truth of his words—Cali does seem pretty cool. That alone eases a bit of the sting from Nora keeping her from me. From my poor parents.

God, my poor mother.

Logan glances at Nora, who gives him a quick nod of permission before he walks down the hall toward Cali’s room.

I turn toward my sister, the woman I’ve looked up to since I could make memories, and take a cautious ten steps toward her. I deserve to hear everything after all this time.

As she gestures me into the living room, I take stock of the things around me, curious about the life my sister has been living out here on her own.

Well, her and Cali.

I pass a shoe rack lined with girly sneakers, worn boots, and a few pairs of high heels.

Making my way down the hall, I take in the photos of Nora and Cali hanging on the walls, each one framed in funky, mismatched colors and eclectic designs that feel perfectly her. At least, the her I knew from before.

But the longer I look, the more obvious it becomes—this house is missing a man’s touch. No sport coat on the hook. No oversized tennis shoes by the door.

And no ring on Nora’s finger.

And yet, there’s three placemats set on her quaint dining room table in a house that seems to be made for two.

Jumping to conclusions is the last thing I should do when it comes to my sister’s life. But just when I think I’ve started to piece it all together, one look around this place tells me the truth runs deeper. And it’s not just answers I want anymore.

It’s answers I can’t leave without.

My body sinks into the plush loveseat. I twiddle my thumbs, a better and much more sanitary substitution to gnawing on my nail like a beaver.

I’m so tired of feeling fucking nervous.

In the span of a week, my whole world has fallen off its axis, tumbling out of control—and I can’t stop it.

I usually have a strong hold on things in my life.

I’m in the driver’s seat where I can call the shots with confidence.

Now, I’m a stranger in my sister’s home where my niece is down the hall with my … boyfriend? I let out an audible sigh, rubbing my temples to massage the headache forming as Nora tinkers in the kitchen, brewing a cup of tea. I hope she pours two shots of something strong in it.