Down Too Deep (Dirty Deeds, #4)(96)

11. Wanted me on his Putt-Putt team.

12. Plays with me.

13. GLASSES! I’m writing glasses twice. I think it’s so cool how we match.



Olivia’s explanations were random and each one just as important to her as the previous—I knew that in my heart. She wrote down things I didn’t know about, like Nathan telling her she looked pretty in a dress she wore one day and a confession Oliver revealed—My brother said he wished our last name was Bell. ME TOO! Her list ended with reasons seventeen and eighteen.

17. Smiles at me & Ollie.

18. Smiles at my mom.



Tears fell onto my cheeks and rolled down my neck.

I kept my agony silent while Olivia revealed hers to me, to Oliver in the next room, and to anyone living in the apartments above and below us. She was loud in her heartbreak. Her cries couldn’t be absorbed into the pillow.

I left the room feeling responsible for the pain she was feeling. For Oliver’s, which I saw when I pushed his door open and found him on the floor, plucking at the string of his coiled sleeping bag.

He was already packed and ready for the camping trip on Friday.

I almost told him it could still happen. I wanted to tell him it would. I’d give anything to promise that, because I couldn’t stand to see the little tremble in his bottom lip he thought he hid from me when he turned away and glared at the wall the second I peeked into his room.

“Can you ask Olivia to stop crying like that? She’s bothering me.” With a quick hand, Oliver wiped underneath his glasses. His small shoulders trembled in little jerks.

He could cry in silence if he tried hard enough. I’d seen him do it before.

“I don’t want to talk right now, okay?” Oliver said, keeping his focus on the wall.

“Okay, sweetheart.”

I left him, pulling the door closed, and walked back to my room. I didn’t tell Olivia anything. I knew Oliver wasn’t really bothered by her. He sympathized. He felt what she felt, and that had absolutely nothing to do with the two of them being twins.

That was it. I was sick of waiting. I palmed my phone and carried it to the farthest corner of my apartment. I didn’t want the kids to hear me.

I steadied my breaths as the phone rang and rang, and when Nathan’s voice mail picked up, I shook my head and cursed. I hated leaving this in a message. I wouldn’t get the answers I needed.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I wanted to know if you were still planning to take Oliver on the campout or if I needed to ask Brian…If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to assume you aren’t going.” I looked in the direction of the hallway. I pictured my son’s face. “I wasn’t going to tell you how disappointed Oliver will be if you bail on him, but I think you should know. And Olivia too…” Tears spilled onto my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away. “Um, anyway, that’s why I’m calling. And I wanted to make sure you were okay. I hope you are.” I almost hung up, adding my last words on a whisper. “Please call me, Nathan.”

*



Sydney prepared a favorite for the kids at lunch on Wednesday afternoon: Mexican chicken. Oliver and Olivia loved the crunch of the Doritos she sprinkled on top of the dish. They scarfed down seconds, then asked permission to go out back with Sir, Syd’s dog. They loved chasing him around the yard.

I had never been more grateful for an animal before in my life. Maybe Sir could get a smile out of the kids.

As soon as they slipped outside, Sydney inquired about the overall mood the three of us had difficulty hiding, and I broke down at the table. I told her about everything—Thursday at Nathan’s, his promise to call, the fact that he hadn’t, and Olivia’s list. That one killed me to share. I told her how responsible I felt and how Brian had been right to warn me weeks ago.

When the front door opened and my brother strolled in, questioning my tears the second he saw me, I shared that last part again. He stood behind Sydney’s chair and listened with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What happened on Thursday?” he asked.

“Nothing. I don’t know, we just had a fight.” I picked at my napkin. “Well, not really a fight. More like a really emotional discussion.”

“About what?”

I glanced at Syd, telling her with my eyes that I did not want Brian knowing all of Nathan’s business, that it wasn’t mine to tell, and that the only reason why I told her in the first place was because I needed to confide in someone. She was the someone I chose. I said a lot in that glance, and miraculously, Syd picked up on it.

“They just got into it,” she said, turning sideways to look back at him. “You know, when you argue and it’s not really about anything—we do that.”

Brian peered down at her, brow cocked. “No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do. All couples do.” She glared at him.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Syd kept glaring.

“Wild.”

“Trouble.”

“Is there somethin’ wrong with you?”

I knew the direction this was headed. If I didn’t intervene, Syd would blurt out all of Nathan’s business. My future sister-in-law did not do well under pressure.