Life In Reverse(57)

I turn around. “Yeah?”

I hear her grin into the darkness. “That was the best f*cking kiss I’ve ever had.”





STILL SMILING, I strut into the house. Julian is sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table reading a sports magazine. Considering we haven’t seen each other all day, the scowl surrounding his mouth is unexpected. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Where have you been?” A bite threads his tone and I have no clue what I did to deserve it.

“I was with Ember.”

His gaze is still fixed on that damn magazine. “Hmph, hmph.”

I flip my keys around my finger and rack my brain for what could be eating him. “All right, Julian. What gives?”

He lowers the magazine, eyes boring into mine. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Is that supposed to be f*cking code for something? What did I miss?”

“I don’t know, Vance. What did you miss?” He drops his feet to the floor with a hard thud and when I don’t pick up on the hint, he elaborates. “Dr. Sherwood’s office called here.” He tosses the magazine onto the table. “Twice.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” He stands up, raking a hand through his unruly hair. “You missed your appointment. Why?”

I feel around for the phone in my back pocket then remember it’s gone. “It slipped my mind.”

“Bullshit,” he spits, and I haven’t seen him this angry since… Mom. “The thing that consumes your life slipped your mind. I’m not buying it.” He huffs out a breath and some of his irritation along with it. “Listen, just… get in there, okay? So you can know what you’re dealing with.”

I bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood, but give him the answer he needs to hear. “I will.”

“Promise?”

I groan. “Yes, Julian. I promise.”

He nods and his features relax. “Okay, good.” Then he starts for the kitchen. “I ordered a pizza earlier,” he calls back. “You want some?”

“Depends. Is it a real pizza?” I trail behind him as he reaches up to snatch two paper plates from the top of the fridge. He hands me one.

“It’s a salad pizza.”

My face contorts and I wince, tossing my plate onto the center island. “I’m good, thanks.” I open and close a few cabinets to check for SpaghettiOs. “If you want a salad, have a salad. Salad is not meant to be on top of pizza.” Finding one can hidden in the back, I slide it out and pop the top.

“And SpaghettiOs are not meant for human consumption.”

“Yeah, well, somebody has to keep the health food rebellion going on in this house. Pass me that sauce pan, will ya?” I grin, and he chuckles, stretching to lift the pan from the overhead hook. I flip on the gas and pour the SpaghettiOs in the pot he so graciously handed me. “Mmmm, I can smell them already.”

Shaking his head, he grabs a slice of pizza and tosses it on a plate before taking a seat on one of the stools. “You’d think you were deprived as a child.”

I open a drawer by the sink, digging around for a wooden spoon. “Aside from our Sunday morning cinnamon rolls and the occasional ice cream for breakfast, Mom did go a bit heavy on the vegetables and that all-natural shit.” My fingers rest on the handle of the spoon. “Hey, remember that time Mom made those Brussel sprouts and she was so excited because she thought I ate them?” I laugh. “But when she was cleaning up she found the big clump of green in my napkin.”

“I remember.” He smiles, warmth filling his tone. “Look at it this way. How many kids can say their mom made homemade bread, peanut butter, and just about everything else?” Emotion lies thick in my throat, preventing me from answering his question. “Vance?”

Little round O’s become a blur as I stir them around the pot. “When I saw Mom yesterday, she knew who I was, Julian.” I turn around and he stops mid-chew, setting his pizza down on the plate. “I knew it would be fleeting.” I touch my head, still feeling the ruffle of her fingers through my hair. “But for those few minutes I had her back.”

He stares out the picture window overlooking the backyard. “I miss that excitement she used to get in her eyes when I’d tell her something about my day. It never mattered if it was something I thought was insignificant. She always made me feel like it was the most important thing in the world.”

“It was, Julian. To her it was. Because… we were her world.”

“I know.” His eyes fall in line with mine, the light dimmer than before. I picture him coming home after a baseball game with dirt on his knees, the devastation of missing a fly ball written on his face—and Mom, standing there, with open arms and a huge smile. Always focusing on what he did right, instead of what he could do better.

“What were you doing with Ember today?” he asks, and I swivel around to shut off the flame on the stove.

My spirits lift at the mention of her name, a smile extinguishing any previous sadness. “I took her to Nettle Creek.” I chance a look at Julian over my shoulder. His eyes are wide, head tilted with a curious expression.

“Wow.” He glances away, blinking a few times as if trying to figure something out. “That’s… big.”