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I went back to eating, opting to not say anything. If Ginger wasn’t going to correct her, it wasn’t my place to do so. Shawn started crying, fighting to get out of his high chair. Ginger worked on freeing him then excused herself, and escaped upstairs to get him cleaned up, leaving me and Dorian alone.
We’d interacted very little over the years. Most of my information about her came secondhand through Macy, who couldn’t stand Dorian, since she gave Ginger a hard time at every turn. I don’t think I’d ever understand the dynamics of their relationship. My siblings and I all got along and cared about each other. Dorian on the other hand had made Ginger shed countless tears. I recalled the times she’d be at our house, upset over something Dorian had done or said, and Macy would comfort her.
An awkward, uncomfortable silence settled between us. It took effort to resist the urge to check my watch to see how long Ginger had been gone.
Dorian was the first to speak. “When do you close on your house?”
“End of next month. On Ginger’s birthday, actually.”
She gave a short laugh. “Ginger. I didn’t think you still called her that.”
“Yeah, I do. It’s our thing, and she likes it.”
Dorian nodded, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m sure she does.”
I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic, or if she was actually agreeing with me. Ginger returned, leaving me unable to question Dorian on it.
“Sorry, I decided to go ahead and give him his bath. It took a little longer with me moving slow and all.” As soon as she put Shawn down he ran in my direction.
“I need an opener for the garage. I don’t want to keep parking outside,” Dorian said.
Ginger immediately reached for her wine glass, and took a slow, long drink. She kept her eyes trained on the remaining liquid when she spoke. “It’s full.”
“What’s full?”
As if in slow motion, Ginger sat her glass back down, looking first at me then back at Dorian before answering her question. “The garage. You can’t park in there.”
“You have a four-car garage and only one car. First, you stick me in the basement, now you’re saying I can’t park in the garage. Is this your way of making me feel as unwelcome as possible?”
Ginger’s nostrils flared, and her brows drew together as she whipped her head in her sister’s direction. “No, Dorian, if I wanted to make you feel unwelcomed, I would have made you sleep in your damn car.”
“Then what the hell is it full of?”
With the way she was acting, I could guess the answer to the question before she spoke. Ginger still lived in his house, still carried his name. It concerned me that she was so stuck, but sadly it didn’t surprise me she’d still have his stuff.
I focused on playing with Shawn. Maybe Dorian didn’t see it, or she didn’t care, but Ginger’s neck started to turn red. The hand that held her fork trembled as she pushed the food around on her plate. She was at her limit.
“Dorian, your car should be fine. She’s let you stay here, just let it go.”
“All I did was ask a simple question. No reason for that to get her all riled up.”
Ginger stabbed her fork into the salmon, and got to her feet so quickly her chair tumbled backward and crashed to the ground with a loud clatter. “It’s a garage, Dorian, what the hell do you think it’s full of?”
Shawn jumped at the noise and started crying. She gave an apologetic glance at her son before she made a hasty retreat from the kitchen, through the family room, toward the patio doors. We watched in silence as she yanked the French door open. She slammed it shut behind her so hard that it bounced back open a little.
I was torn between going after Ginger or continuing my task of trying to calm Shawn, who was now calling out for her. He was in full-blown tantrum mode, so he got my attention.
Silently Dorian began clearing the plates from the table. Neither of us spoke. When she was done, she walked over and took Shawn, who still fought for freedom and called out for his mom.
“You should go check on her.”
It was seven in the evening, yet the humidity remained thick in the air, and everything was quiet. Too quiet. No sound of cars passing on the street, no voices of the neighbors or sounds of life, other than the crickets off in the distance. Isolation. Like stepping through those gates cut you off from the rest of the world. But I was sure that was the point when he’d bought this place. I stood at the top of the patio, trying to figure out what the hell to say to her.
Ginger sat on a lounger near the fire pit, hugging her knees close to her chest. I was sure she knew I was out here, or that someone was, but she didn’t turn to see who. Instead, she stared off in space. Taking the stone steps two at a time, I made my way down.
“How is he?” She spoke without turning to look at me.
“A little upset, but we took care of it. Dorian has him.”
