I smile. “Are you ever going to tell me why you started hating cats so much? You loved them when we were younger.”
“That’s before I knew how nasty they are.”
“They’re not nasty, Chris.”
“Sam, they poop in a box then walk through it and track it all over your house. They’re nasty!”
I laugh. “They don’t walk through their poop.”
“You’re telling me he walks around every buried pile of shit when he gets in and out of that contraption you call a litter box? What-ever!”
“’Buried’ is the operative word there, Chris. But don’t worry. I only let him get on the table when I know you’re coming for dinner.”
“Ack!” she spits, screwing up her face. “I’m never eating here again.”
“Fine by me. You’re impossibly messy anyway.”
“Be nice to me or I’ll leave.”
“Um, I don’t remember inviting you in to begin with,” I tease.
Chris holds up her keys and jingles them. “Biggest mistake you ever made, giving me a key to your house. Just wait until you see what I did to your underwear drawer.”
“Don’t make me tell Greg all your dirty little secrets,” I threaten in mock seriousness.
“Don’t make me tell the world your dirty little secret. ‘Cause yours really is dirty. Very dirty.”
Although I know it’s an empty threat made only in jest, a shiver of panic works its way through me. She knows that’s one of my worst fears.
It’s time to change the subject.
“So,” I begin with a quick shake of my head, “why are you so dressed up?”
Chris’s blond hair is piled atop her head. Several long curls are hanging loose to brush her shoulders. She’s wearing a royal blue sundress a few shades darker than her eyes and stilettoes that match. No doubt they’re her design. Her face is made up in “going out” makeup and diamonds sparkle at her ears and throat. This is definitely “an occasion.”
“Oh,” she says, looking down. “Ohmigod, I forgot to tell you. I’m meeting Greg’s parents for dinner tonight,” she explains, shaking her fingers anxiously. “I’m so nervous!”
“Why? You look beautiful, and you and Greg are perfect together. They’re going to love you.”
Occasionally I still catch glimpses of the insecure little girl I first met ten years ago when Social Services dropped me off on my foster parents’ doorstep. She’s blossomed quite a bit since then, but I’ve learned that some scars run deep.
“I just don’t feel quite…good enough. But I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. When have you ever known me to be wrong?”
“Oh God!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Well at least I have a date for the fundraiser tomorrow night.”
“Oh crap! I forgot all about that.”
“That’s because, unless you’re wearing a wig, you’re a total space cadet.”
“At least I graduated college.”
“Yeah and went on to use, oh let’s see, none of what you learned. Some accountant you turned out to be.”
“Good point.”
“You know how depressed Mom will get if she sees you show up by yourself again.”
Over the years, our foster parents have become as attached to us as Chris and I have become to them. We call them Mom and Dad. It started off as a joke. Then it just stuck.
I sigh. “I know, I know. I’ll think of something.”
“You could always let me set you up with that friend of Greg’s I keep telling you about.”
“I’m not dating a younger guy, Chris. We’ve talked about this.”
“He’s not that much younger.”
“He’s your age, Chris. Four years is too much.”
“I didn’t say you had to marry him. Just go out with the guy. Who knows? You might have fun. Besides, it’s just for one night.”
I growl. “Let me think about it.”
“That’s a ‘no’,” she says, shaking her head and following me as I leave the kitchen.
“That’s not a ‘no’; that’s an ‘I’ll think about it’.”
“Which is your version of a ‘no’. Anyway, I’m off. Just wanted to stop in— Oh! I almost forgot. I saw you on TV at that appearance thingy you did, whatever you call it, and ohmigod! Sam, I saw that guy that came to the front to talk to you. You really need to find him and spend some time getting ‘inspired’ for your next book. He was so hot! And he was totally into you. I could see that all the way through the freakin’ television.”
I feel a blush creep into my cheeks. “What guy?”
Chris stops with her hand on the door knob and slowly turns to face me. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Are you really going to stand there and pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about? Like I didn’t see you get all flustered?”
My face gets hotter. “Was it that obvious?”
“Only to people who know you, who know the real you.”
I think of Ari. I wonder if he noticed.
“Well, that’s not gonna happen, so why don’t you concentrate on WOW-ing Greg’s parents and leave me to tend to my boring life?”
Chris’s face falls into a pout. “That’s the whole point. I don’t want you to have a boring life, Sam. I want you to be happy. And not just on paper. I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy, Chris.”
She looks sad and bothered. “Not like you should be.”
“You’re just a drama queen. Now, get out of here before you start crying and mess up your makeup. I know that look.”
She smiles, but it trembles. I know she worries about me. She worries that the past will keep me from ever having a normal life.
Sometimes, I worry the same thing.
CHAPTER FOUR - Alec
I breathe in the sea air. It fills my lungs much like the anticipation of a new project fills my mind.
I needed this—this break. At this time of the year especially. It’s full of old ghosts, ugly demons, and unwanted memories. It’s my own personal Halloween. My own personal haunting season.
In the beginning, my coping mechanisms were acceptable, I’m sure. But then, somewhere along the way, things went sideways. I got lost in the healing process. Suddenly, it wasn’t healing anymore. It was obsession. And immersion. And control. I chose a path that led me in a circle, constantly returning to the pain of the past. I’m still fighting it to this very day.