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When hermahmenwas done choosing, Nalla took a cookie for herself. So her fingers had something to futz with. “Winter’s gotten serious.”
“Sure has.” Bella broke her Toll House in half and took a test bite. “Oh, perfection—”
“I’m okay,” Nalla cut in, more brusquely than she’d intended. “They just need me to chip in here a little bit. It’s busy.”
Bella nodded. “Someone’s on maternity leave, right? I heard Mary talking about it the other night.”
“That’s it, yup.” When Nalla tried hers, all she tasted was cardboard. “Short-staffed, you know how it is—”
“Your father is really worried about you.”
As those blue eyes became direct, Nalla stopped chewing. Then she rubbed the center of her chest. “Is he.”
“We both are.”
“But you came because of him, right.” She cleared the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue. “You’re worried about him.”
“Of course I am.”
“Right. Of course.”
Bella frowned. “Is it so bad that we both care about your safety?”
Don’t do it, Nalla thought. Now, not the time, here, not the place, and all that jazz.
And there was another reason to just let it go. People had conversations with others in the hopes of improving things… communication, connection, situations. But she knew that nothing was going to change. There was no combination of words, backed up with whateverexpressions were necessary to convey proper meaning, that could get her what she wanted from hermahmen.
Part of it was the sheer selfishness of how she felt: It was a two-year-old’s temper tantrum in a grown-ass adult, and that was not only unappealing, it was embarrassing to some degree. Except have fun negotiating with your emotions.
Once, just once, she wanted to be the number one priority to Bella.
For Nalla’s entire life, their household had been all about her father: Was he eating? Had he slept well. How were the sessions with Mary going? Who was his partner in the field tonight. When was he coming home? Did he need anything. Did he want anything? Was he injured, who was treating him…
And then the big one, even bigger somehow than the mortal threat he faced every night in the field: Had he been triggered by something, a hole poked in his shield against his inner demons, one of them escaping and having to be contained before it hurt him even worse.
There had been good times, sure. But the darkness inside that male had defined their lives, and everything had been second fiddle to it.
“Do you care about me, really?” Nalla said softly.
Bella recoiled as if she’d been struck. “How can you ask me that?”
And there it was. Honest surprise.
“Sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying.” Nalla tried to wave away everything with her cookie. “Anyway, how’s things at home—”
“What’s gotten into you?” Bella indicated the kitchen. But clearly meant so much more than the room they were in. Or even the house. “You’ve never done this before.”
“I work here. I’ve absolutely done ‘this’ before.”
Sick of pretending she wanted the frickin’ cookie, Nalla went over and chucked it into the garbage disposal. Then she ran some water and hit the switch on the wall. The whirring was loud and she wished she could just keep the thing on to drown out the conversation. She really didn’t want to fight with either of her parents.
Maybe that was a sign she’d finally given up.
“You’ve never not come home at day,” Bella pointed out as the InSinkErator was silenced.
“I texted you. Both.”
God, why had she and Rahvyn done all the dishes? There was nothing else to put away, either.
