After Dark (The Night Owl Trilogy #3)(11)

The front door swung open and my mother beamed at us.

“Hey, Mom.” We hugged.

Daisy’s bark resounded from the hallway. The spaniel whooshed out and lunged at Matt, then at me, panting and whining.

“Mrs. Catalano, it’s lovely to see you again.” Matt hugged my mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He offered the bouquet and Mom buried her nose in the blooms.

“So gorgeous. Thank you. You should be calling me Helen by now. It’s good to see you all in one piece.” She patted Matt’s cheek and he smiled graciously. I wanted the earth to swallow me. “You two are just in time for dessert. Do you like ice cream, Matt?”

He gave me a dark look.

“Uh, we already ate, Mom. Sorry. Is Chrissy around?”

“In her room.”

Matt took his cue. His social graces never failed to surprise me. “When was I here last?” he said, escorting my mother down the hall. “Thanksgiving, wasn’t it?”

I watched them turn the corner. A goofy grin pulled at my mouth. How nice to bring home a man and not a boy.

I bounded up the stairs to Chrissy’s room. I knocked once on the door.

No answer.

“Chrissy?” I called.

After a moment, a small, dry voice replied, “Han? Come in.”

I let myself into the bedroom. My nose scrunched at the smell of incense and cigarette smoke. I squinted in the dark.

“Shut the door.”


“Sure.” Frowning, I closed the door and walked to the bed where Chrissy lay, a cigarette between her fingers. She blew a stream of smoke out the window. “Mom and Dad let you smoke in here?” I peered around the room. An ashtray stood on the windowsill, an incense holder on her cluttered desk. Heaps of clothing covered the floor, along with soda cans and junk mail.

“Eh, sorta.” Chrissy pushed herself up and coughed into her hand. Her face was sallow, her body hidden beneath an oversized T-shirt. I perched on the edge of her bed.

“Flowers,” I said. “From me and Matt.”

“Oh, sweet.” She accepted the bouquet with a half-smile. “Thought I heard him.”

I edged closer to my sister, trying to get a better look at her.

“I bet he’d like to see you, if you feel like venturing downstairs.”

“I’m … not really dressed,” she said. “Some other time.”

“So what’s … going on with you lately?”

She smashed out her cigarette and stared at the peonies. Her expression puckered. I hadn’t seen my sister cry in years, and for a moment I didn’t know what was happening. Two slivers of light appeared in her eyes, tears brimming.

Then they broke and streamed down her cheeks.





Chapter 6





MATT


“This thing is priceless.” I plopped Hannah’s baby album on the counter and flipped it open. Small Hannah looked so sweet: childish round cheeks, wild dark curls, and a look of mischief that I knew well.

“I really wish Mom hadn’t given you that.” She shrugged off her purse.

We were back at the condo, having spent less than an hour at her parents’ house.

“Technically, she lent it to me.” I grinned at a glossy page of birthday pictures. There was one-year-old Hannah with frosting all over her face. “Mm, messy even in your youth…”

My innuendo flew right over her head. She gnawed on a nail and stared off in the distance.

“Hey, your dad seemed to like the cuff links.”

“Hm? Yeah.”

I began to unbutton my shirt. I felt jittery, like I’d had too much coffee or sugar.

“I’m not sure how much use he’ll get out of them, but they’re damn nice. Not to imply that your dad isn’t a classy guy.” I laughed. “He’s pretty cool. Down to earth. We had a good chat while you were talking with Chrissy…”

Hannah barely stirred.

“You want to go out for a drink or something?” I tugged her into my arms. She moved listlessly. “I did just propose. You drink for both of us and I’ll take advan—”

“Another night. It’s late and tomorrow’s Monday.”

“Mm, true.” I kissed her forehead. “I want to tell you something.”

“Hm?”

“When I was talking to your father, I asked him—”

“What?” Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “Please tell me you didn’t, like, ask for his permission to marry me or something.”

“Was I not supposed to … do that?”

“God.” She pushed out of my arms and rubbed her face. “So you told them we’re engaged? You could have asked me first.”

“I did ask you. In the field. What’s the matter?”

“It’s just silly. We’re not living in the eighteenth century. You don’t need his permission. And honestly, we’re not even properly engaged yet.”

“We’re not?” I white-knuckled the edge of the counter. “That’s news to me.”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.”

Women are the most confusing creatures on earth.

Exhibit A: my maybe fiancée.

“Bird, talk to me.” I moved behind her and massaged her shoulders. “Is it about a ring? I’ll get you one tomorrow. Tonight even. I’m ready to—”