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She meets my eyes and laughs. "Not ladylike enough for you?"
"Ladylike is not a word I have ever used. I don't think I've ever even thought about that word. Manners though? That's a word I appreciate."
Abby chokes, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then very deliberately turns in her seat to face the kitchen, where Nick and Micah are not so patiently taking turns licking their side the huge pan Johnny cooked the apple crisp in. Their ears are pressed together, both heads in the deep aluminum pan resting on the counter.
"Aw, fuck." Of course those assholes just ruined my point. Abby cackles, and casually swats my arm. She is beyond annoying.
"Why are you sitting right here?” I ask her. “The penthouse is huge and there are plenty of other places to sit. Why don't you find Maya?" Maya is used to her. She won't want to lock her out on the deck like I do.
"Because Maya is busy playing tonsil hockey with your brother, and it was making me a little murderey. You know, love and shit. You look like I feel, so I figured I'd join you."
My mind immediately jumps to hockey players in full gear using tonsils as a puck. It's a disgusting image. "Why do people insist on using euphemisms for everything? What's wrong with saying they're kissing?"
"Because playing with language is fun, I guess," she says with a shrug. "So there's trouble in paradise, I see?" I scowl at her and she snorts. "Fine, fine. Jonas, it appears to me that you and your wife are quite distant this evening. Would you care to discuss it?"
"You're making fun of me, but I don't care. That was the first thing you've ever said to me that didn't make me want to cover your mouth."
She slowly circles her finger in the air. "Well woop-de-do."
I press my palms against my temples, and stare up at the ceiling. "Why are people so annoying?"
"Because they're not like you."
I drop my hands and frown at her, trying to figure out if she's being rude or not. She's looking across the room at Colton chatting with John. John's face is tight. He looks like he's done. As always, my eyes are drawn back to Janey across the room. She's looking at Colton and his brother too, little lines between her eyes. She leaves her spot on the couch, heads across the room, and speaks softly to both of them. Colton grins at her and hops up. She takes his place on the couch, leaning over to say something to John, and his entire body seems to deflate. He closes his eyes and leans his head back. Janey sits quietly next to him.
"She sees a lot," Abby says. "That dude was on the freaking edge."
"Yes. She does. She's very focused on other people."
"And you wish she were focused on you?"
"It's not about that. She is too focused on what everyone else wants. She doesn't know herself."
"She doesn't know herself, or she doesn't speak up for herself?"
"Both," I say, tearing my gaze from her, and focusing on the empty table in front of me.
"See," she says quietly. "Opposites. You strike me as a guy who knows exactly what he likes, and has no trouble telling people the truth. It makes sense you're annoyed by her."
"I am not annoyed by her." She gives me a look. "Okay, I am a little annoyed. I don't understand why she won't just be herself." Then we would have avoided all this unnecessary drama.
She sighs and rests her chin on her hand. Her pink hair falls dangerously close to a candle still burning on the table. I reach out and push the candle away with one finger. She doesn't seem to notice. "Because being yourself is hard, especially in relationships. You're always dancing around each other, trying to make each other happy, pretending everything is okay, while inside you're a seething ball of rage and frustration. You think that if you give a little more, lose some weight, change the things he's critical of, it will be ok."
"Janey is perfect the way she is. I don't want her to change." Abby gives me another look, and again, I have no trouble reading this one. "I want her to stand up for herself." I study Abby's face. Without her annoying chatter as a distraction, it's easier to see the lines of sadness on her face. "Your girlfriend? Boyfriend? What did they do?"
"Boyfriend," she mutters. "I spent years with him, and one day, I came home and found him with another woman. We were living together. We were talking about marriage. And suddenly, he's saying that I wasn't giving him what he needed." She rubs her fingers over the back of her other hand. "I thought I was giving him everything. But maybe that's the problem. Maybe all women do that, give so much of themselves that there's nothing left."
"But why? I don't understand why she would make that choice?"
"I don't know. I don't really know her that well. But in my opinion, there are probably only a few reasons. Most likely? She learned that making other people happy made life easier for her. Sometimes, easier is as good as it gets."
"I do not understand that. At all."
"Really? You've never just gone with the flow? Agreed to something, rather than fight, just to make other people happy? You've never changed who you are to fit in?" She stands and gives me a small smile. "It's easy to judge from where you're sitting now, I suppose. But not everyone has the love and support you do. Not just Zach, but all your brothers. You had them all to depend on. Who did Janey have?"
She walks away and I stare down at the table, letting her words penetrate the cloud of frustration I'm sitting in. She's right. I've done the same thing.
I shove my chair back, and lock on Janey. I have to dodge Maverick as he runs toward the kitchen, yelling about getting a turn to lick the pan. I stop in front of her.
