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“This reminds me of when we’d be home, waiting for Dad to get back from work…” her words trailed off, but the memories they invoked hung between us.
After our parents’ divorce, I’d taken somewhat of a motherly role in the house. Alesha had barely started school and our dad worked round the clock at his high powered finance job.
I had a driver’s license, car, and access to my dad’s credit card. It had fallen on me to make sure the cupboards were stocked and that there was something for dinner for Alesha and me every night. My cooking and baking skills hadn’t been born from pure interest—but from necessity. It wasn’t until later in life that I’d learned to love it.
I nodded. “Who knew it would turn into my whole life.”
Alesha smiled. “The Siren is a really cool place. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”
I stopped halfway to my mouth with my next bite and returned her smile. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
“I wish I knew what I wanted to do,” she said glumly, staring down at her next bite before popping it into her mouth.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged as she swallowed the bite. “I mean…next year is my senior year. Dad and Kelli yammer on endlessly about going to college. I’m pretty sure Kelli just wants me out of the house, preferably on the other side of the country, so she can finally get Dad to knock her up.”
I pressed my fingers to my lips to keep my mouthful of iced tea from shooting out.
“I’m just saying. Sometimes she’s like a dog in heat.”
“Charming,” I replied with an eye roll.
“Just sayin…”
“What is it that you want to do? If not college, then what?” I asked, desperate to scrub the mental images she’d conjured from my mind.
“I want to go to college. Or, at least, I did. I applied to the same one that…my ex goes to.”
“Brian, right?”
She nodded. “Now it seems stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid. What do you want to study? Surely that hasn’t changed just because you’re not with him.”
“They have a business program. I think it would be fun to have my own place someday, a clothing boutique, or maybe work as a buyer for a boutique.”
“Wow, that sounds really good. A business degree can take you a lot of places. I think you should go for it.”
She nodded and chowed down three more big bites, clearing her plate.
“Do you want some more?” I gestured back at the stove. “Have you eaten anything today?”
“No. I didn’t feel good this morning.”
I bit back my retort about hangovers and stood to get her another serving.
Hopefully, it was a lesson she’d learn on her own.
After dinner, she helped me clear the plates, and then we both headed upstairs, full and sleepy. She paused outside her door. “Carly?”
“Huh?” I stopped and looked over my shoulder at her.
She frowned down at her bare feet. “I really am sorry for what I said…about Nick.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“I’m happy for you. He seems like a good guy.”
She disappeared into her room before I could reply.
I smiled to myself as I crossed the hall to my own room and as I got ready for bed, I marveled to myself. The day had undoubtedly started off much differently than I’d imagined, and it had ended even more strangely—in a good way—than it had started. A butterfly of excitement swept through my stomach as I settled into bed, wondering what the next day would hold.
15
Nick
* * *
When I stepped into The Siren the following morning an unexpected face was waiting to greet me.
“Good morning, Nick,” Alesha called over to me as I hesitantly approached the counter.
“Morning. Uh, is Carly here?” I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck.
Alesha thumbed her hand over her shoulder, pointing toward the kitchen. “She’s back there. Uhm, Nick…” she paused to look around the shop. I followed her nervous glance and spotted a few elderly people sitting around a table by the window, all bundled into track suits like they’d just done a power walk. “I need to tell you something.”
My eyes returned to Alesha as she leaned closer. Her cheeks flushed with a tinge of red. “I’m listening.”
“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. You know…for what I told Carly. About you and me and the other night.”
“Aha.” I pocketed my hands and shifted my weight back into the heels of my work boots.
“Can you forgive me?” She batted her lashes and I wondered if by this point it was an automatic trick, as though she didn’t even actively think about how to look and act to get herself out of trouble, it just came naturally to her. Her lips in a pout, thick lashes fluttering, and a pleading, doe-eyed look.
“Only after you answer a question,” I replied.
