Connor stared at the ceiling, examining the old wooden boards in the fading daylight. Despite himself, Connor relaxed. He had been staying in one uncomfortable bed after another for the past week and this was a glorious respite from those hard pillows and scratchy blankets, even if he was still in enemy territory.
Connor dozed off, waking with the front door opening and a young voice announcing, “We’re home!”
Connor opened his eyes. The sky had dimmed to a dark blue, and the yellow lights that had been around him when he’d fallen asleep were all shut off. The hallway light was off until the boy who entered flicked the switch by the door. He illuminated himself and a stack of pizza boxes.
The boy was nothing like Trevor, airing far too much on the side of delicate and small. He had the same blonde hair as his dad and even darker eyes.
“Shh,” Trevor trotted out of the kitchen, talking in a low voice, “Connor is asleep on the couch.”
“Oh!” The boy’s voice was suddenly a whisper. “I didn’t realise.” They both looked Connor’s way.
It wasn’t so dark that they missed him staring at the pair of them. The boy’s expression dropped like he’d committed a cardinal sin.
Trevor patted his shoulder. “Go on into the kitchen with the food. Is Nick on his way?”
“He’s parking around the side,” the boy, who must have been Laurence, replied.
Connor sat up. A heavy blanket fell from his shoulders as he did. Connor looked at the blue-sheeted duvet, wondering how he hadn’t woken to something so heavy being placed on him. He hadn’t been disturbed at all.
“Sorry about that, Connor,” Trevor apologised to him. “You can go back to sleep. We’ll save you some pizza.”
Connor considered lying back down to avoid eating with everyone. But as soon as the thought entered his head, he decided against it. As out of place as he was here, this was supposed to be his home. He wasn’t going to run away and hide in a corner.
“I’m awake now.” Connor got up, ignoring that jolt of pain in his midsection, and walked to the kitchen. Edith was opening the pizza boxes and setting them out on the kitchen table. Her expression was pinched before she even saw him. As soon as she had… well, that look turned rather severe.
Laurence hovered by the food, his dark eyes darting to Connor as he walked in. His expression wasn’t as easy to read, his fussing hands a little more revealing as he picked at the tablecloth. Connor picked up a slice of the nearest pizza, the one with plain cheese. All the rest had different types of meat on them.
He leaned against the counter, his back to the window, and acknowledged the glare his mother cut his way as he took his first bite. He raised his eyebrows at her. Was she not going to even attempt to hide her hostility? But then again… Connor wasn’t about to pretend they were friends, either. They both knew what was up.
“Do you say grace now or something? Your new husband said it was fine to eat,” Connor said.
She straightened out invisible lines on her shirt, and Connor watched the battle play out across her features. He watched her decide to bite her tongue on whatever sharp word she’d been poised to deliver. He had a feeling if Trevor’s son wasn’t standing two feet away, it would have been delivered promptly and with as much venom as she could muster. Austin used to call his dadOrotund Bastardwhen talking badly of him. On the rare occasion that Austin needled him into talking about his mom, Connor stuck to simpler language.Meanseemed a sufficient enough description to him, though it seemed to irk Austin that he wouldn’t rail about her more.
“We usually sit together,” Laurence ventured, his dark eyes landing on Connor’s face for a split second before darting away, only to return a second later. It was as if Laurence thought looking in Connor’s direction was a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself. “Dad likes to eat as a family.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Connor said.
His mom bristled.
Laurence seemed to contemplate that for a moment, then reached for a slice of pizza. He took one of the meat feast slices and approached Connor, leaning against the counter next to him. Connor didn’t process his actions for a moment; then, as he took a bite of pizza, Laurence’s cheeks turned bright red.
“Laurence, dear,” Edith said in a pained voice. “You should wait for your dad and Nick. Don’t let Connor’s bad habits rub off on you.”
Connor snorted. “My bad habits? And tell me when was the last time we ate a meal together? Was it my responsibility to get everyone to the table growing up? You should have told me. I would have put in a bit more effort.”
“Don’t,” she snapped.
Laurence went from red to white.
Trevor stepped into the kitchen just as the sharp word left Edith’s mouth. Next to him was a boy taller than Laurence, shorter than Trevor, but well on his way to filling out like his dad. Nick didn’t have the same dark eyes that his family did; his were lighter, more amber-coloured. And as they jumped to Connor and Laurence, they darkened as his features solidified into anger.
Connor only had a moment to register the meaning of that expression, but it was more than enough. He’d faced looks of disgust and hate non-stop since his birthday.
“Laurence.” Nick scowled. “Come here.”
Laurence’s shoulders scrunched up. “I’m eating,” he said timidly. He wasn’t eating. He’d watched Connor exchange with his mom with a fearful look.
Trevor put his hand on Nick’s shoulder, stopping the beginnings of an angry advance. Trevor gave Nick a pointed look that Nick met with a challenge that quickly subsided. When Trevor turned his attention to Edith, Nick directed a lethal glare toward Connor. Connor met it and took a bite of his pizza, hoping Nick would see how little he cared for his dirty looks. Nick’s face reddened in anger.
