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Gabe raised a wry eyebrow. “An older woman? Nice.”
Miri chuckled and walloped him on the chest.
Frankie stirred the chili so violently she splattered the white tiled backsplash above the stove. “Shrinks need their own shrinks and then they have shrinks, like weird nesting dolls. They have group sessions where they all talk about emotions until it all gets too overwhelming.”
I rolled my eyes and snatched the spoon from Frankie before she made more mess and gave me a heart attack. “I’m a clinical psychologist, not a psychiatrist.”
Frankie nudged me out of the way to stir the chili/curry. “Same thing.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
My jaw clenched. Frankie always left the kitchen in chaos. I opened the cutlery drawer to put the knives back in their correct place. Most unforgivably, she’d taken every single spice jar out of the rack after I’d sorted them alphabetically. I couldn’t wait to get everyone out of here so I could bring some order back.
Miri’s floral perfume filled my nose as she planted a light peck on my cheek. “Where’s Mum?”
“She’s having a nap. How are you?”
Miri grimaced and rubbed her pregnant belly. “My indigestion has indigestion. You?”
I flashed a meaningful glance at Frankie. “Irritated.”
Miri smothered a grin and lowered her voice to a whisper. “She’s only trying to help.”
“I know. It’s fine.”
It was categorically not fine, but it was also my issue, not Frankie’s.
I couldn’t help but glance at Miri’s growing bump. “You’re blooming.”
She winced. “That’s what people say to make pregnant people feel better. My pregnancy sheen is sweat from all the vomiting.”
“Can you eat anything? Are you drinking? I read an article last week about the efficacy of ginger for hyperemesis during pregnancy. It was a randomized controlled trial. I’ll go and dig it out now—”
“Please don’t science me. I’m not in the mood.” She waved a dismissive hand that came to rest on her swollen belly. “I’ve seen the midwife today. It’s all fine.”
Frankie grabbed a serving spoon and dispatched the chili/curry in messy scoops. Miri watched me with the shifty look she always wore when she wanted to say something that I wasn’t going to like.
Frankie cleared her throat dramatically and threw her hands up. “We wanted to wait for Elliot, but there isn’t going to be a better time than this. We’re staging an intervention.”
Miri flinched and pulled Frankie to the kitchen table. “At least sit down first, and no, we’re not doing anything that dramatic. It’s not an intervention. It’s a… discussion. We wanted to talk to you, about a delicate issue—”
“You’re driving me mad, Reece.” Frankie lowered herself to sit and raked both hands through her dark pixie hair. “I’m walking on eggshells. I can’t even finish a cup of tea before you’ve picked the mug up and washed it.”
My shoulders tensed, but I kept my tone even. “I’m sorry you feel like that, Frankie. I like things to be neat.”
Miri raised her hand in the air. “It’s not just Frankie. You’re also driving me mad.”
I took a calming breath. It wasn’t my fault nobody in this house picked up after themselves.
“And me.” My younger brother, Elliot, glided to the table and took a seat.
Miri surveyed the food on the table with a grimace, then pushed her seat back. “We know you like things to be done… in a certain way, but you’re even more uptight than usual.” Miri’s voice softened. “You look tired. We’re worried about you. Is something going on?”
My jaw clenched. I was tired. Shattered, actually. These past months, a heavy weight had pressed my shoulders. Every morning, I woke up far too early and still exhausted. It had been a big adjustment: Mum’s stroke, breaking up with Megan, moving back home, selling the old house. Work at the hospital, covering for absent colleagues, had become unmanageable. I had patients back to back. No time for lunch. No breaks.
The constant guilt and worry about Mum was suffocating me. The one night I wasn’t here, she’d collapsed. She’d been alone. If Gabe hadn’t broken in and found her, then she probably wouldn’t be here. As a mental health professional, I knew exactly what this was: burnout. I’d ignored it in the hope it might resolve itself. I’d been kidding myself.
Miri covered my hand with hers, her skin cool on mine. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
