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“If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t come running,” he states pragmatically.
I shake my head, well aware of what happened when I was sick. “But you would come to me,” I counter with a smile.
He winks at me. “That’s beside the point, Lynne. I’m just saying, maybe wait for a holiday or the weekend to visit your sister. Don’t waste your precious PTO hours on her.”
A grin spreads across my face. “And here I thought we had plans to go antiquing in Vermont this weekend. Wouldn’t you rather have me out of town for a few days and back by Friday?”
I’m already making a plan. Tonight, I’ll fly to Seattle. I’ll arrive there around three or four in the morning and will stay at the airport until the shops open so I can have breakfast. After that, I’ll call Izzy and see where we will meet. Hopefully, at her house where she’ll invite me to stay for the next three days. We’ll solve our issues and I’ll come home with the promise that we’ll bridge the gap.
Okay, I’m being a little too optimistic about the outcome. I should lower my expectations. What if I don’t go in with expectations and just wait to speak to her?
Gideon lets out a sigh, his stance relaxing slightly yet still carrying a hint of resignation. “Fine, we’ll go antiquing soon. But this weekend’s out. My parents have some events. Can’t remember exactly what, but I need to be there.”
I remain quiet because this would be a great moment to tell him that he needs to step away from his toxic family. He’s too old to follow their rules blindly. No thirty-five-year-old should be under his parents’ thumb like he is.
Since I don’t want to discuss his family I say, “Okay, I have a plan. I’ll get PTO approved today, fly out tonight, and be back by Friday.” I sound too bright when in reality I’m concerned about using my maxed credit card, so I don’t get in trouble at work. Desperate times . . .
Gideon nods, his expression turning thoughtful. “Or Sunday. I don’t think I’ll be available to spend time with you this weekend,” he says, and shrugs.
“You’re planning to spend the entire weekend with your parents?” I raise an eyebrow.
“No, just Saturday morning,” he answers, his tone evasive, hinting at other plans he’d rather keep to himself. “I just want to make sure you fix your family issues before coming back.”
I quirk an eyebrow, bristling at his word choice. “Issues?”
“Your sister might try and suck you back into the fold when she needs something,” Gideon speculates, his eyes hardening with concern. “It’ll inevitably end badly when she cuts you off again.”
His words hit me like a punch in the gut, but I make my best effort to mask the impact.
“And that’s a problem?” I ask. Why is he so concerned?
“It becomes a problem later when she discards you again because she doesn’t need you anymore. Just be sure it’s really what you want to do before it turns into another toxic cycle,” he advises.
I glare at him. I can’t stand it when the psychologist in him takes over, even though he’s often right.
Since I’m set on my decision, I move toward him, wrapping my arm around his waist in a side hug. “Okay, I promise to address any unresolved issues before I fly back.”
“That’s all I’m asking for,” he says, his voice warming as he returns the hug and plants a gentle kiss on top of my head. He then swiftly moves to prepare a to-go mug, pouring hot water into it for my tea.
I carefully place a tea bag into the steaming water, watching it swirl and blend. Holding the mug carefully, I let the aroma of the tea waft up to me, deciding to wait a moment before sipping, aware of its heat. My thoughts drift to Gideon’s way of compartmentalizing life, how he divides his world into neat, separate boxes.
And perhaps, during my time away, I should ponder this too. How does he manage to keep each aspect of his life so segmented? Does this level of compartmentalization actually help, or does it create more barriers than it solves?
Should I put everything in neat boxes while I’m in Seattle so I don’t break even more? I just pray I don’t see Gabe or any of the Deckers. I’m only okay when dealing with one person at a time.
Chapter Four
Gabriel
I shift restlessly by the arrival gates. The airport is nearly deserted at this hour. I hope it pays that I bought a one-way ticket to Vegas so I can spot my sister right as she disembarks the plane, instead of waiting outside like everyone else. If I’m lucky, she might only have her carry-on, and we’ll get the fuck out of here soon.
I check the monitor one more time. The plane landed already, but the gate hasn’t opened yet. I just don’t understand why it’s taking so long. Suddenly, there’s some commotion. The doors swing open, and at last, the passengers finally begin streaming into the airport.
My sister is usually one of the first passengers to exit the plane. But not tonight. Fuck, did she miss her flight? I scrub my face with one hand and rub the back of my neck with the other. Did she miss her connecting flight in LaGuardia?
People continue to walk through the door, but not her. If I call Mom to let her know that Lyric isn’t here, she’s going to worry. I’ll wait until I figure out where we lost Lyric. Yep, she’s probably stuck in Queens, New York.
My shoulders relax when I spot her. She’s just an inch shy of six feet, towering over most people around her as usual.
