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Decima
The spreadof food across the Maliks’ outdoor dining table looked more like a Thanksgiving feast than a basic luncheon with close family, although the options were more suited for a summery meal than a fall one. Chunks of watermelon and pineapple lay in large ceramic bowls next to sweetly creamy dips. Sandwiches cut into bite-sized pieces stood heaped on platters. Each placemat had a glass on the top filled to the brim with what looked like a frozen red juice.
It was all so… extravagant. But then maybe my frame of reference was off considering that I’d only ever eaten alone for all the meals I could remember until just a few weeks ago.
“Did you bring a bathing suit, Rachel?” my mother asked, following behind me and Carter as we approached the patio table.
I eyed the large pool and the stone patio surrounding it. Lounge chairs and pool inflatables littered the patio. From the new assortment of towels draped over the porch railing, it looked like the family had made use of the pool earlier this morning in the late summer warmth.
“I don’t really swim,” I admitted.
I could swim, of course. It’d been a part of my training with Noelle. But if I wore a bathing suit, way too many of my scars would be exposed. I wondered how my mother would react to them, no matter what excuses I came up with to explain them away. I’d told the Maliks that the people who’d kidnapped me had treated me like one of their own, and it would be suspicious to change up the story now.
I was wondering a whole lot of things, really. After my phone call with the man who called himself the Hunter, it was hard to take this cheery family get-together at face value. Had he discovered something about the Maliks that should make me concerned? What could they possibly be up to?
Or had he just been trying to create tensions for his own bizarre agenda? I had no idea who that man was.
Of course, the truth was I barely knew who any of these people were either.
I glanced at Grandma Ruby and Grandpa Bo, the only other Maliks in attendance today, who’d followed us over to the table. Grandma Ruby had her nose turned up at the feast waiting for us as if she found it wanting. I couldn’t imagine what it was missing, but then, Damien’s mother seemed to enjoy criticizing whatever she could. And she got worse on days like today when her son had been called into work. I wasn’t sure whether I felt more or less at ease without my father among us.
“Well, everyone take a seat.” My mother pointed to one of the trays of small sandwiches. “I made sure to have some pepperoni and cheese sandwiches made special for you, Carter. Rachel, do you have a sandwich preference?”
I wanted to laugh. I’d never been offered options. At the household, they’d given me whatever they pleased, and I was expected to eat it or starve. With the guys, I’d grabbed whatever I found in the refrigerator or what Steffie, their housekeeper and general assistant, made for us.
“I’m not picky,” I said with a small shrug. “I’ll eat pretty much anything.”
Did Carter make a bit of a face as he sat down? I hoped he didn’t think I was implying anything negative about him having his own favorites. His shoulders rounded into their typical slouch in his chair, and I hesitated before taking the seat next to him. Sometimes he joked around with me a little, but sometimes he seemed like he’d rather I wasn’t around.
It had to be pretty weird having a big sister drop out of the sky without any warning. I couldn’t blame him for being a bit awkward.
“Maybe I’ll try the pepperoni and cheese if you can spare some,” I said to him, shooting him a smile. “I do like pizza.”
The corner of his mouth twitched into half a smile. “These are the closest things I can get to it at one of these dos.”
Our grandparents sat across from us, and my mother sank down at my other side. She looked around the table, and a smile stretched across her face. “Wow. I could have never imagined this in my wildest dreams. Sitting at lunch with my family, my daughter at my side. My son a seat down. Damien’s parents across from us. I’m so grateful.”
She sounded a bit choked up by the end of that speech. Even if the Hunter had sown some doubts in my mind about the Maliks in general, I was completely sure that my parents were grateful to have me back in their lives. Iris got close to tears at least once during every visit, and I could never tell what the best response would be.
Today, I ventured a touch of my hand on top of hers. She flipped her hand and squeezed my fingers, and I knew I’d judged the situation correctly. The physical contact put me a little on edge, but it seemed to soothe her as she took a deep breath.
“I don’t think any of us could have predicted how happy we’d be, Iris,” Grandma Ruby said, piling watermelon on her plate and sprinkling a generous amount of salt on top. Her gaze veered to the garden. It was full of blooms with narrow yellow petals around a dark center. I didn’t know much about flowers, but they appeared to be in excellent health to me. Vibrant in a wild sort of way.
“You need to get out there and pull those weeds,” my grandmother remarked. “They’re taking away the effect of the black-eyed susans.”
“I think it looks really nice with a little wildness in there,” I said, trying to offset the criticism of her statement.
My mother waved my protest off. “No, she’s right. I haven’t been out to pull weeds in the flower beds for a couple of weeks. It’s about time.”
“You don’t have a gardener?” I asked.
I never would have imagined my mother pulling the weeds from the garden on her own. I glanced over at her perfectly manicured nails—not a chip in sight.
She laughed. “Oh, we do have a groundskeeper who sees to all the yard work, but that garden is an important symbol to the family. I like to handle it myself. Black-eyed susans symbolize justice, you know, and so much of our work—especially your father’s—goes toward bringing more of that into the world.”
“Look at how well they grow for our family,” Grandma Ruby said, gesturing to the lush garden. “We’re clearly doing a good job of it. They couldn’t be in better bloom.” She paused. “Well, maybe a little better without the weeds.”
