AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah.” He nods once, and another wave of goose bumps pebbles his skin.
“I’ll go get more towels.” I leave Van dripping in the middle of the kitchen and grab a stack from the linen closet.
Mom flips into hyperdrive and runs to the laundry room, gathering fresh dry clothes. It occurs to me that Van could go back to his house and change, but he graciously accepts the sweats and T-shirt and heads down the hall to the bathroom.
My parents help Billy to their bathroom, since Van is in the one my brother would typically use. I’m hopeful it’s not completely disgusting. I grab a stack of clean clothes from the top of the dryer and follow them inside.
Billy grumbles about being fine, but my dad ignores him and takes the fresh clothes. Based on the state of his cast, he’ll need to have it replaced. I leave my parents to manage him like a grumpy oversize toddler and return to the kitchen. Needing to do something with my hands, I put on the kettle and then take out the double boiler so I can make some hot chocolate. Van opens the bathroom door and steps out into the living room. The sweats are my brother’s. They’re way too long, but Van’s thighs are thicker and his waist isn’t nearly as narrow. They’re stretched tight, and so is the shirt. His hands are strategically clasped in front of him, covering his junk.
I’d think it was cute if I wasn’t so pissed off at him.
“Can I make you some tea or hot chocolate?” I don’t want to be nice to him right now, but considering he saved my brother from potentially drowning, I feel compelled to at least make him a warm drink.
“Hot chocolate would be great, thanks. Where’s Billy?” Van crosses his arms over his chest, not defensively, more to warm himself up, or at least that’s my impression, based on the way he fights another shiver.
“My parents are getting him warm clothes. If you’re still cold, there are blankets in the living room.” I motion to the couch on the other side of the open-concept room. The kitchen, dining room, and living room are all one big space. I shouldn’t be embarrassed by my family’s home. It’s modest and quaint and a mishmash of other people’s secondhand things, but it’s where I grew up and holds mostly fond memories. Still, I’m self-conscious having him in here, which is ridiculous, considering my current living arrangement is a trailer and he’s now the owner of Bee’s semi-hoarder-style cottage.
“I’m okay. I wasn’t in for very long. I’m sorry about what happened earlier and what I said. I just . . . I saw you with my brother, and then he called and told me he was contesting the will and that you were going to help him declare Bee as incompetent. It was one more thing on top of all the other stuff I’m dealing with, and I overreacted.”
“So you took him at his word rather than asking me my side?” I set the kettle on the stove, happy I have something other than Van to focus my attention on.
“I thought you would tell me, but then you acted like everything was fine. What was I supposed to think?” His voice is softer now, holding none of the accusation it had earlier.
I reduce the heat on the burner and turn to face him, seeing his point, even if it still hurts that he assumed the worst. “I called Bernie as soon as your brother left, but I didn’t have any answers. And honestly, look at what’s happening right now in this house. Since I’ve been home, I’ve been trying to tell my parents that there’s more going on with Billy than they’re willing to admit, and tonight he almost drowns. And probably would have if you hadn’t been there. I was worried that you wouldn’t see what I saw, or believe that your brother could do something like that. Or maybe wouldn’t want to.” The end of my nose tingles, and I pinch the bridge as a distraction, aware I’m on the verge of tears. Which I hate. “Maybe I should have said something right away, but I couldn’t predict what your reaction was going to be. People don’t always want to see the truth, Van, even when it’s standing right in front of them. I’ve been the one trying to open people’s eyes in this house, and it’s exhausting. I was trying to protect you, not hurt you.”
He takes a step toward me. “I’m so sor—”
I hold up my hand to cut him off, because there is more I want to say. “I know you tried to dial it back when we were having that conversation, like you knew you were pushing the limit, but you asked me an impossible question that I couldn’t answer.”
