Stepbrother Dearest(62)

“I” came into town, not “we.”

I wished I had a camera to capture the look on Greta’s face when Chelsea suggested we visit her in New York.

The mood got quiet again, and I’d snuck some glances in when she wasn’t looking. When she caught me, I shifted my attention back to my plate.

“Elec never told me he had a stepsister,” Chelsea said.

I wasn’t sure whom the statement was directed toward, but I wasn’t touching that subject with a ten-foot pole. Greta still refused to look at me.

Sarah spoke up. “Elec only lived with us for a short time back when they were teenagers.” She looked at Greta. “The two of you didn’t get along too well back then.”

For some reason, the uncomfortable look on Greta’s face got under my skin. She was still looking down and not acknowledging her mother’s statement, not acknowledging me. An unexplainable need for her to acknowledge to me, to acknowledge what we had, overtook my better judgment. I reverted back to my old ways for a moment and started to taunt her to get her attention.

“Is that true, Greta?”

She looked frazzled. “Is what true?”

I lifted my brow. “That we didn’t get along.”

Her jaw tightened, and her eyes never left mine as they silently warned me not to push it.

Finally, she said, “We had our moments.”

My voice lowered to a gentler tone. “Yeah, we did.”

Her face was turning red. I’d pushed it. I tried to do damage control by lightening the mood. “What was it you used to call me?”

“What do you mean?”

“‘Stepbrother dearest,’ was it? Because of my glowing personality?” I turned to Chelsea. “I was a miserable f*ck back then.”

I was for a while…until Greta made me want to be a better person.

“How did you know about that nickname?” Greta asked.

I laughed to myself, remembering how I used to snoop in on her phone calls to her friend.

It was good to finally see her crack a smile as she said, “Oh, right. You used to eavesdrop on me.”

Chelsea was looking back and forth at us. “Sounds like those were some fun times.”


I wouldn’t take my eyes off Greta. I wanted her to know that those days were some of the best of my life.

“They were,” I said.



***



The only good thing about focusing on my unresolved feelings for Greta was that it took my mind off of Randy.

When I escaped to be alone in the backyard after dinner, though, the fact that he was gone started to hit me.

He and I would never have a chance to make amends now. It was interesting how making amends never seemed to matter when he was alive, but in his death, it was haunting me. At the very least, I’d wanted to prove him wrong, make something of myself. Now, he was somewhere in another dimension possibly coming face to face with Patrick.

Thinking about it without distraction for too long f*cked with my mind. I grabbed a cigarette and tried to just meditate. It didn’t work because my emotions had only gone from sad to angry.

I heard the glass door sliding open and footsteps behind me. Don’t ask me how I knew it was her.

“What are you doing out here, Greta?”

“Chelsea asked me to come talk to you.”

What the f*ck were they talking for? It just rubbed me the wrong way. Chelsea could not find out about what happened between Greta and me. I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, really.”

“Yes.”

“Were you two comparing notes?”

“That’s not funny.”

It wasn’t, but my classic protective mechanism of acting like a bastard in times of stress had come out in full force. It was too late. And dammit, I wanted her to acknowledge us.

I put my cigarette out. “You think she would have sent you out here to talk to me if she knew the last time before today that you and I were together, we were f*cking like rabbits?”

The color drained from her face. “Did you have to put it like that?”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? She would freak the f*ck out if she knew.”

“Well, I’m not going to be the one to tell her, so you don’t have to worry. I would never do that.”

Greta’s eye started to twitch, which proved I was having an effect on her. Old habits die hard. I was addicted now.

“Why are you winking at me?”

“I’m not…my eye is twitching because—”

“Because you’re nervous. I know. You used to do that when I first met you. Glad to see we’ve come full circle.”

“I guess some things never really change, do they? It’s been seven years, but it seem just like—”

“Like yesterday,” I interrupted. “It seems like just yesterday, and that’s f*cked up. This whole situation is.”

“It was never supposed to happen.”

My eyes somehow landed on her neck, and I couldn’t pry them away. I knew she noticed it. I felt possessive all of a sudden, something I knew I had no right to feel. I still needed to know what the f*ck was going on.

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Your fiancé.”

“I’m not engaged. I was…but not anymore. How did you know I was engaged?”