“Cole? What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I think so.”
“Does this have anything to do with Lisa?” Kimberly bit her lip and closed her eyes, realizing what she’d let slip, as my face snapped to hers in excitement.
Lisa. Her name was Lisa.
“No, not really.”
“Get in.” She sighed.
A soon as we were in the car and the driver pulled away, I turned to face Kimberly. "Your apology was bullshit."
“Good morning?” She blinked at me a few times.
“Seriously, why did you apologize?”
“Ugh, Cole. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Answer the question.”
“Ugh,” she groaned again before rolling her eyes. “Because I was sorry?”
“Why were you sorry?”
She narrowed her eyes at me and heaved a deep sigh.
"Because it was obvious that what I said hurt your feelings, and I felt awful because the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. You're my brother, and I love you." She gave me a sad smile.
Everything my sexy but perpetually grumpy neighbor, who I now knew was named Lisa, shouted at me on my stoop, clicked into place like a tumbler in a lock. "You apologized to make yourself feel better. That's not an apology."
"What? I didn't…" Her mouth closed, and her brow furrowed. She was deep in thought.
"Look, I know you get overwhelmed, and it makes you angry, but sometimes you lash out and the shit you say…" I trailed off and shook my head. "And you know what?" I looked her in the eye. "You did hurt my feelings. I know I'm not perfect, but neither are you, and I would never talk to you the way you talked to me. And not because you have an anxiety disorder but because you're my sister, and I love you."
"Cole." She heaved a deep sigh. "You're right. You're definitely not the first person to bring this to my attention, and I've been working on it with Dr. Marquez." She wrapped her slender brown fingers around mine and squeezed before continuing.
"I am the last person who should be giving anyone life advice or passing judgment, and I guess it's easier for me to focus on other people's issues than to face my own. And it's easiest to hurt the ones I love the most because they love me the most. It's not an excuse, and it doesn't make it okay. I can't guarantee that it will never happen again, but I promise to try as hard as I can."
She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows at me.
This went better than I expected, and I was almost a little pissed that I didn't get to recite the four components of a proper apology. We hugged, and I felt like Kimberly and I had crossed some invisible barrier.
"I know it's none of my business, but Lisa would be lucky to have you." She smiled at me and wiped away a tear. The thought made my chest expand with warmth, and I wouldn't tell Kimmy that after my own botched apology attempt, I had a better chance of getting drafted by the NFL.
By the time her driver dropped me at the Starbucks closest to my office, I had a feeling today was going to be a good day.
Judy kepther promise to cover for me, and I rewarded her with two lattes—one at 130 degrees so she could drink it right away, and one at 180 degrees so it would be the perfect temperature when she was ready to drink it. At the morning meeting, Smith asked me to sit instead of standing against the wall like the other first-years and gave me a shout-out when he mentioned the case I'd been working on.
Feeling pretty good about the morning's developments, I was making my way to my desk when my phone buzzed in my pocket. The area code was from Missouri, and my chest tightened at the sight of it. Crystal was released four years ago, and I had expected her to come live with me. I had prepared a special place for her in my home with all of her favorite things. Instead, she chose to move back to Missouri. Her decision was something I never understood. My birth mother never had a good thing to say about that place. She didn't have any friends there. She hated her family. After living with them for a few months as a kid, I understood her hatred.
So, when she chose that place over me, her own son, I didn't handle it well. She called me once a week for over a year, but I never answered. The calls stopped, then the letters started. They came weekly, then monthly, then after a while, they stopped too.
I ignored the call, determined not to let Crystal's current drama ruin the good day I was having, and deal with it later. I'd been in the research library for a few hours when Sam, one of the receptionists, found me.
