And yet I can’t ignore the tiny spark of excitement brewing inside me. I actually want to see her reaction when she’s singing carols.
That’s how I know I’ve really lost it. Maybe my plane lost cabin pressure and I’m suffering from slow-onset brain damage.
“I knew Finley would like it,” I set the dishes on the counter and lower my voice. “Coming here means a lot to her. Hollybrook’s like a dream come true, and I want her to have every bit of it.”
Mom studies me then lifts a hand to my cheek, tears filling her eyes. “Alex, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”
I narrow my eyes in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
She makes a face and drops her hand. “Well, you have a habit of?—”
“Only thinking about yourself,” Tyler finishes as he walks behind me.
“I think about other people,” I snap.
“Bullshit,” Tyler scoffs. “Ever since you left for college, it’s all about you and how everything fits into your perfect life plans.”
My anger spikes. “What are you talking about?”
He stands up, a dirty bowl in his hand, and meets my glare. “You really want me to spell it out? I thought you were the genius with an MBA.”
Where the hell is this genius stuff coming from? He’s the one with the advanced engineering degree.
I open my mouth to tell him to shove it, but Mom steps between us, one hand on my chest, the other on his arm.
“That’s enough, boys,” Mom says wearily. “Can you at least wait a couple of days before you start in on each other?”
I bristle. Start in on each other? That makes it sound like we’re twelve arguing over the remote. But what lingers is Tyler calling me self-centered. Because as much as I want to deny it, he’s not entirely wrong.
I could make excuses—the charities I’ve donated to. The money I send every month to…
No. That’s not generosity. That’s guilt. And no one here can ever know.
It’s been easier to shut myself off from everyone—my family included. It’s easier not to get too close, not to feel. Because feeling too much has the power to destroy me. It damn near did six years ago.
I could claim I came home for Mom, but the truth is I need them. I need my family, even if I feel like I’m always walking into a minefield.
And if I’m being really honest, that’s part of why I brought Finley. I’m hoping she’ll soften the explosions, or maybe even disarm them.
I force the knot in my throat down and turn to my Mom. “In any case,” I say, forcing calm into my voice, “thank you for inviting her to bake. It means a lot to her.”
“Of course,” she says warmly. “She’s delightful.”
“Better than any other girlfriend you’ve bothered to bring around,” Tyler mutters as he loads the dishwasher.
“Tyler,” Mom warns. “You need to rinse those off.”
“Actually, you don’t,” he says, sliding bowls into the slots. “Dishwashers are designed to handle dirty dishes. In fact, the detergent works better that way.”
“Look at you, all domesticated,” I mock.
He shoots me a smug look. “I’m an engineer, dumbass. I know these things.”
“A domestic engineer?”
“Alex,” Mom sighs, exasperated.
“Sorry, Mom,” I say, but I’m still glaring at my brother when footsteps echo on the back staircase.
