Ask Me Why(14)

The sweet Pinot turns sour in my stomach. That’s never going to happen. But to appease her, I force a smile. “I’ll try.”

“That’s a good start. This feels like a change in the right direction. I want you to be happy, Brae. Speaking of, have your folks called lately?”

“Nope. Not that I’m surprised.”

“Don’t they care about your recovery?”

“Clearly not.” I rub at the ache in my throat.

“Have you ever considered going to visit them? Turn the tables on their silent treatment. I could go with you.”

I’m shaking my head before she has the first sentence out. The thought of abandoning Thicket, even for a weekend, gives me chills. That shop is my baby, the closest I’ll come to having a real one. Some might call me a workaholic. I prefer the term dedicated. I’d never be able to relax thinking about my shop dark and empty and cold. “I’m not interested. I can’t just up and leave. I have responsibilities.”

“But don’t you miss them?”

“Why would I? My family isn’t the sentimental type to get sad about. I haven’t fit into their equation since leaving for college. And they live far away. Not that you’ll hear me complain about that.”

“You act like they’re in Alaska.”

“Might as well be,” I grumble. Sadie’s pinched expression stabs at me. I release a long exhale. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”

But I won’t. Truth be told, my family has not been very supportive of my decisions. My parents never approved of Devon. After he died, they took that as an opportunity to try dragging me back to our small town in the middle of nowhere Iowa. I didn’t go. The rift spreads wider with each missed call and forgotten holiday. They know where to find me, but the odds of that happening aren’t in my favor. The sting of their rejection has long since faded.

“Paris will never happen, huh?”

I furrow my brow. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to.”

I peer over at her. “It’s hard, okay? I’m comfortable in my little bubble. But visiting Europe is on my bucket list.”

Sadie knots her fingers together. “I’m being a pushy bitch. Sorry, Brae. I got a little excited to see you smiling again.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m lucky to have you urging me on. If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably never leave my house. You’re a really good friend, Dee.”

Her bottom lip sticks out. “For real?”

“Yes, dork. Don’t be mopey. That’s my job.”

She wags a finger at me. “Not anymore. That ship has sailed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m by no means cured.”

The timer dings and Sadie pops out of her seat. “Finally! Dinner’s done. And so is all this talk of brutish men and neglectful family members and forceful best friends and emotional relapses. Let’s watch a chick flick and finish the wine and regret our choices in the morning.”

I giggle, the sound rich and full. “You’re a nut. But that’s the best plan I’ve heard in a long time.”

Sadie shimmies her hips and dances into the kitchen. “And one more reason to celebrate.”





Brance



Sued



I open the rear passenger door and bend to face my son. “Ollie?”

He’s practically vibrating in his seat. “Yes?”

“What’s the rule?” I’d repeated the phrase enough in hopes he’d never forget. Wishful thinking, I know. But now is the true test. I lift my brows but remain silent otherwise.

“Stay by your side and don’t run ahead,” he recites in a diligent tone.

“And why is that important?” Keeping my expression neutral is a challenge when he’s smiling so wide.

Ollie’s lips twist. “Um, so I don’t get run over?”

I chuckle. “Yes, that’s true. I want to keep you safe from everything.”

He nods. “Right, got it.”

“Do you?”

He begins pulling at the straps over his chest. “Uh-huh, yup.”

“I mean it, Ollie. You have to hold my hand,” I remind him.

He reaches for mine and links our fingers together. “All done.”

With some masterful maneuvering, I unbuckle him without letting go. Ollie springs forward and hops out of the car. Once his feet hit the pavement, we’re off at breakneck speed.

My arm is straight out in front of me. “Ollie, slow down.”

His neck swivels around. “I’m just walking.”

“I can barely see your shoes.” I swear the scent of burning rubbing is stinging my nostrils.

He looks at his sneakers without slowing down. “They’re still tied.”

“That isn’t the issue,” I laugh. Clearly my words went in one ear and out the other. Surprise, surprise.

“Daddy, Daddy, look! There it is.”

Ollie cranks up his pace, almost dislocating my shoulder in the process. I attempt to reel him in with a light tug. That only causes him to double his efforts. I almost stumble from the momentum. Talk about a backfire. I appreciate him finally listening about sticking with me, but this is straight painful. He’s freakishly strong for such a little tyke. Must be all that candy he’s been consuming.