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Chapter 6
A soft knock comes at the door in the morning, and this time, I don't pretend to be sleeping. In fact, I barely slept at all, Jeremiah and Ezekiel's conversation replaying in my head over and over. And right along with that were my own thoughts, my own doubts, my own warnings. It was dumb of me to stay, but I'm damn sure going to get my breakfast before I leave.
"Come in," I say loudly.
Ezekiel opens the door, a glass of orange juice and a paper bag in one hand, and Jeremiah comes through it, carrying a plate. I smile at the smell and sight of the pancakes and bacon.
"I might stay again if I get such good room service."
I could slap myself. I literally spent about half the night reminding myself to stop saying stuff like that, and it's the very first thing that comes out of my mouth when I see them. I don't feel like I know who I am when I'm with them, and maybe that's what scares me most of all. I saw my mother lose herself to and for too many men in my life to ever be okay with losing any of myself.
"First thing in the morning, Lexa?" Ezekiel says. "At least eat breakfast before your mind begins running in circles."
I almost snap back that he's half the reason it's running at all, but I give him a scathing look instead as they reach me. Jeremiah places the plate on my lap and Ezekiel sits at my feet, holding my glass, I guess, until I'm ready for it. Jeremiah walks around the bed, sitting beside me. It is awkward as hell, but I'm not sure if it's just me.
"Any plans for today?" Jeremiah asks.
"Meeting up with Soph and Char for lunch. You guys?"
"Going to spend the day with our mother," Ezekiel says.
I smile. "Does she rope you into her hobbies? Because I can just picture the two of you posing for endless photos."
Jeremiah chuckles. "I think we’ve taken at least a hundred pictures with the sun setting behind us or something at this point."
"Will you take a picture of some and send them to me?"
Too close. That's getting too close.But before I can take my words back, Jeremiah nods, while Ezekiel tells me to take my first bite. I cut off a piece of pancake and bring it to my mouth. My eyes are closing as soon as the taste floods my tongue.
"This is so freaking good," I compliment. "I might have to plan a cook off between you guys and Jackson."
"It would not be the first." Ezekiel laughs.
My eyebrows shoot up. "And who won?"
"Jackson, of course," Jeremiah says. "But that doesn't stop him from challenging us again and again. Our mother made sure we were in the kitchen as soon as we could reach the counters. She's very big on being independent."
"I like her more and more. Why...Nevermind."
"What? Go on," Jeremiah encourages.
"Why did she and your father divorce?"
I'm worried it'll be too touchy of a subject, but Jeremiah and Ezekiel look at each other and burst into laughter.
"He cheated," Ezekiel begins. "The woman came to our house to tell my mother, expecting her to, I don't know, dissolve into a puddle of tears, fight over him. My mother told her to wait right there, went and threw all my father's stuff in three suitcases and handed them to the woman. Told her to tell my father their bank account would be empty by the time she'd delivered the message."
I gasp. "I don't like her. I love her."
"He came home that night," Jeremiah adds. "Or tried to, but the locks were changed, begging my mother to take him back. She said, and I quote, ‘You can come home if you're willing to have your miniature penis cut off. The choice is really yours.’"
"I'm assuming he chose to keep his penis." I laugh.
"He did." Jeremiah nods. "And well ,you know, to the gym with my mother we went. I don't even think she was working through sadness. More like she had to get beyond my father's audacity."
"Ah, yes, something men seem to have in abundance," I comment.
"I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole," Ezekiel wisely states.
