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“I’m sorry, King. And Briar,” Nix bit out petulantly.
Mom huffed her annoyance but didn’t say anything. She shook her head in disappointment.
Honestly, I was feeling the same. “That was a piss-poor apology, but you can stay, as long as you treat everyone here with the respect they deserve.”
A muscle flexed in Nix’s cheek. After a pause, he jerked his chin in a tight nod.
Now I understood why Rome didn’t want to come. Maybe Nix hadn’t changed as much as I’d hoped.
An uncomfortable silence descended over the table. Even Zoe was silent, although I suspect that had a lot more to do with Briar’s magic touch than Zoe’s understanding of family dynamics. Briar had handed a fork to my daughter and was encouraging her to chase noodles with it while our whole family dysfunction drama had gone on.
“She is such a smart little girl,” Mom beamed from the other side of the highchair. “I don’t think either of you were even interested in holding a utensil until you’d gone to grade school.”
I snorted into my wine glass then had to pull it away because of my coughing fit. “Jeez, Mom.”
“Cheez!” Zoe crowed.
“Coming right up, kiddo.” Briar reached across the table for the parmesan cheese, but hesitated when Nix picked it up and offered it to her. He hitched a shoulder then smiled slightly. Briar smiled back and took the offered cheese.
It was such a little action, but it gave me a pang in my chest. And judging by the way my mom beamed, she felt it too.
We continued to eat dinner with Mom peppering us with questions about Zoe and later my own life. It should’ve felt awkward, but really it was starting to feel comfortable.
Until it wasn’t.
“I was so sorry to hear about Ariel’s death.” Mom folded her hands on the table and gave me a sympathetic grimace. “I can’t imagine how hard that was for you.”
“Really, Mom?” I shook my head. Because there was nothing more heartwarming than probing at an old wound. “I’m not talking about that with you. Especially not in front of my daughter.”
Everyone’s forks froze on their plates at my tone. Even Zoe stopped babbling as she swung her head around, taking in the new, sudden tension.
Mom’s face turned red. “I just meant—”
“I don’t care what you meant. I’ve barely let you in, and you think you get to pry into my past? You seriously think this is the best venue to talk about something like that? Now?” My plate was mostly empty, but the previously delicious meal sat like a stone in my stomach. I pushed away from the table with a screech and headed for Zoe. “I’m not doing this. I’ll take care of her bath tonight. You can have the rest of the evening off, Briar. ‘Night everyone.”
With Zoe happily babbling in my arms, I headed for the stairs.
Playing happy families was bullshit.
Chapter Twenty-One
Briar
This had to’ve been the most awkward dinner of my life. Between my thoughtless comment, to Phoenix’s, and then Joyce’s final blunder, we were batting a thousand on the awkward scale.
King and I had never really talked about his wife. He’d made it clear that it was a topic not to be discussed.
“It was going so well. I shouldn’t have brought her up. I wasn’t thinking.” Joyce stared down at her lap as a tear raced down her cheek.
I brought her the box of tissues from the side table.
“Thank you, dear.” She ducked her head as she swiped at her eyes with a tissue. “I’m so sorry for ruining dinner.”
“It’s not your fault, Ma.” Phoenix looked surprisingly sympathetic, given the way he’d behaved today. “King thinks Ariel’s death hasn’t impacted him, but he’s so full of shit. He won’t talk about her. He won’t let anyone even mention her name.”
“We’ve got to let him process things at his own pace.” Joyce carefully wiped a tissue under her eye. “You can’t make someone mourn on a schedule.”
Phoenix scoffed. “That’s his problem. He’s not mourning. He wants to pretend she never existed. Like he found Zoe under acabbage patch or something. It’s not healthy. And that’s coming from someone who spent the better part of six months in intensive therapy.”
