Page 30 of Someone to Have (Skylark #3)

ERIC

“Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?” Jen asks. So much for tapping into some deep emotional connection.

“Don’t be a dick,” I tell her because defensiveness is my go-to.

“It was actually a compliment,” she says with a laugh.

“Oh, sorry,” I mutter, poking at a piece of chicken on my plate then pushing it away. “I’m projecting on you because I’ve been kicking myself since I got back for being a dick.”

“You were never a dick,” she assures me. “Despite your propensity to poke yours into some questionable?—”

“Let’s not go there,” I interrupt. “I’m being serious, Jen.”

“And I’m giving you a serious compliment. Obviously, I’m not the only one doing better today. Do you realize I just had a conversation with my son that consisted of more than grunting on his part?”

“I can’t take credit for that. I didn’t do anything special. He likes Skylark. Toby and the team have welcomed him and?—”

“Yeah, yeah. Save the coaching kudos and tell me about this Taylor and the tutoring.” She glances toward the staircase. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

Nerves skitter across my spine and I offer what I hope looks like a nonchalant shrug.

“He wants to remain eligible for hockey, and his attitude sucked worse than his grades.” I don’t want to lie to her, but I’m not going to give all the details.

I’m not sure she’s ready to hear them and I’m sure as shit not ready to say them out loud.

“You know I struggled with reading. People said I was lazy. Didn’t apply myself.

But if the words don’t make sense on the page, you can apply yourself all day and night, and it won’t help. ”

“This neighbor is helping? Is she a teacher?”

“She’s a librarian but does a lot of tutoring. It’s making a difference for Rhett.”

“I can tell. My son needed help and I didn’t see it.” Jen says this more to herself than me, her tone flat. It’s precisely why I didn’t want to tell her any of this.

“It isn’t about blame or judging yourself. Guilt does no one any good.”

Her smile is tight. “Being a mother means constantly worrying how you’re failing your kids. Add in the fact that I’m generally failing at life, and it’s a big deal. You don’t even like kids, and you realized he has a problem.”

I scoff. “I like kids.”

“Eric, I’m not making this up. You literally said those words to me when I asked you to come back. ‘Jen, I don’t even like kids.’”

“I didn’t realize I liked kids.” I shoot her a conciliatory smile. “I do. I like Rhett.”

“Because he’s the best.” She laughs softly. “At least I’ve done something right in my life.”

“You’ve done plenty of?—”

“Tell me about Taylor. You tugged on your ear when you first brought her up.”

“So what? It itched.”

“It’s your tell. Always has been. When you’re guilty about something, you tug on your ear.”

“Bullshit.” I rack my mind to figure out if she’ s right and decide she’s bluffing. “If that were the case, why haven’t you mentioned it before now?”

“And give up my chance to read you? Come on. I rarely get the upper hand on my annoyingly talented brother.”

“You’re just as talented.”

“Not in a way that got me out of northern Minnesota and a full ride at a prestigious university.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I managed to mess that up by walking away.”

“We do share the same self-destructive DNA,” she says with a wry smile. “We could also spend days arguing over which one of us is more dysfunctional. What matters is that when I needed you, Eric, you stepped up. And it’s helping my son.”

“I asked Taylor to tutor him because I trust her.”

Her raised brow tells me exactly what she’s thinking, and it’s way too perceptive.

“Like I said,” I continue before she can voice that sisterly perception, “she’s Toby’s sister.

She gets hockey players and is a good person.

The best, Jen. Really. Rhett trusts her, too.

She isn’t going to talk to anybody at the school about his challenges, but she thinks they should know.

There are accommodations, she calls them, that he could get—ways to make it easier on him. ”

“He’d be labeled.”

“He’s already been labeled, and he’s proving everyone wrong. Asking for help.” I lean forward and take her hand. “Getting help is not a weakness.”

She blinks away the tears that fill her eyes. “He’s coming down the stairs. I’ll think about it, okay? For the record, I want to meet the tutor.”

“Excuse me?” I manage to stop my jaw from hitting the floor. There is no way in hell my sister is meeting Tinkerbell.

“Hey, Rhett,” she says as he flops down with the box of cupcakes, “your uncle was telling me how much you like this new tutor. ”

He nods. “I mean, she’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re a smart kid, dude,” she tells him. “Smart people get help when they need it.” She does a quick little jazz hand session in the air in front of her. “Why do you think I’m here? Because I got smart.”

He grabs a cupcake from the box. “Taylor’s cool. And I like getting decent grades, you know?”

“I know. I was just saying that maybe next Sunday, if Taylor is willing, you could bring her with you.”

His mouth forms a small “O” and he glances at me.

“It’s up to you,” I say casually, trying not to clue either of them in on how my heart is galloping at a breakneck pace at the thought of that.

“I’d like to hear about how she’s helping you. Maybe I can help you study when I get out of here. I’m not saying you wouldn’t still have her as your tutor, but I want to support you. I want to do better for both of us.”

“Sure,” he says, like this is also no big deal. But I hear the hope in his voice.

As panicked as the thought of Taylor meeting my sister makes me, I can’t help but smile. This is new territory for Jen and Rhett. I love this kinder, gentler mother-son relationship, and I like being a part of it. I like helping.

My sister grabs a cupcake and then pushes the box in my direction. “Uncle Eric’s going back to Germany eventually, so it will be the two of us again. Us against the world, right?”

Which is better than the two of them against each other. But my satisfaction at helping shifts in my stomach, taking on the weight of a lead balloon. Of course I’m going back. I’m under contract, and hockey is what I know. It’s all I know. This is temporary. My sister knows it. Rhett knows it.

Hell, Taylor gave me the best sex of my life, and it’s because she knows it. I’m not a long-term deal for anybody. I need to start remembering that .

I excuse myself to the bathroom, like I did on our previous visits, to give Jen and Rhett a little privacy.

They’ve each polished off a cupcake when I return, and to my surprise, the colored pencils are back out, and they’re both drawing.

Winter sunlight slants through the blinds, casting thin lines across the table where they sit, their heads bent close together.

There’s a piece of paper and a couple of pencils in front of my chair.

We spend the next hour mostly in silence, but it’s a good kind of silence—comfortable and relaxed. The only sounds are the soft scratch of pencil on paper and the occasional muffled voices drifting down the hall. At the end of our visit, Rhett points to the picture Jen has drawn.

“Can I take that with me?” he asks. “Taylor’s the children’s librarian, and she’s super into illustrations. She does arts and crafts after story time on Saturdays. I bet if you came to Skylark, she’d want you to show the kids how to draw.”

The look on my sister’s face makes emotion flood my veins. It’s like he’s invited her on a first-class trip to Paris or something.

“I’d like that,” she says, and I wonder how long it’s been since my sister felt like she’s done anything right.

From the little bit Rhett’s been willing to share, her relationships were absolute hell, and her boss at the neighborhood breakfast joint where she worked was a tyrant.

We don’t discuss any of that during these visits or get into what happens in the group and private counseling sessions she has to attend while in rehab.

I figure when she wants to share more, she will.

But today feels like a victory for all of us.

Outside the lobby’s window, snow flurries whirl in the gusts of icy wind. She hugs Rhett, then turns to me. “I’m looking forward to meeting Taylor.”

“Can’t say it enough, she’s a great tutor.”

Her eyes narrow. Damn it, I never could fool my sister. But at least I keep my hand at my side instead of tugging at my ear, which is fucking annoying now that I know she knows my tell when I didn’t even realize I had one.

“I get the feeling Rhett’s not the only one learning from her,” she says. “Remember your promise.”

The room feels smaller as she watches me, like the walls are pressing in with the weight of that vow. I smile, but it probably looks more like baring my teeth. “I won’t forget the promise.”

Sadly, for better or worse, I also remember vividly how good Taylor felt in my arms last night. We have to be careful because Rhett can’t find out something is happening between us. But I’m also not giving her up—not yet.

It’s a coaching strategy.

As we drive home, fluffy white snowflakes whip around the car, making even the interstate feel cozy.

“How about we grab a pizza and skip Sunday supper at the Maxwells’?” I suggest.

Rhett shrugs. “Whatever. I’ve got a test this week in algebra, so I should probably start studying.”

“Are you okay, Rhett?” With an overly dramatic gasp, I reach out and vigorously shake his shoulder.

“What the hell?” he demands.

“Do you have a fever?” I shout the words at him. They echo through the truck’s interior.

“No. What are you talking about?”

“You just suggested studying on your own.” I mock shiver. “In advance .”

“You’re a dick,” he mutters, and I laugh.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

He runs a hand through his hair and glances away from me. Snow gathers on the shoulder of the highway, blurring the white edge lines. “She seems better, right?”

“It seems like she’s doing well.”

“Is it going to last?” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Once she’s back home. ”

This is where my lack of experience dealing with kids is a big problem. Because I have no fucking idea what to say to him. But I do have enough life experience to know lying won’t help either of us.

“I hope so,” is about as much as I can offer. Actually, there’s a little more. “I’m going to do everything I can to support both of you.”

“From Germany?”

“I’ll figure it out,” I tell him as I veer off the exit toward the town that feels like home to both of us. “I promise.”

The snow is falling thick and heavy now, casting a hush over the empty streets, and I let the quiet settle my jumbled emotions. Maybe I didn’t technically keep my vow to my sister, but you can damn well bet this is one I intend to keep.