Page 15 of The Redheads

He finished and stepped back. I held on to the dress to keep it over my body and turned to look at him. “I thought you were a fashion person. Why do you hate your own dress?”

“I’m not a fashion person. Not really. Not a designer or a stylist. I wrote, or sort of wrote, a book that helped people to feel better in their own styles, in their own clothes. This wasn’t my idea. I didn’t even pick it out.”

Zeke must have been done with this conversation because he turned and left, stopping only when he was by the door. “I think you have everything you need here. But if you’re missing something, let me know. I’ve never had anyone stay here before, so it’s possible something was forgotten. I’m down the hall. Burgundy doors. Knock if you need me.”

I limped into the bathroom. We had to have some serious conversations about what exactly he expected for this night, or nights, I got to spend in his house. First, however, I was going to soak my fucking feet. The bathroom was huge with a cast iron tub that called my name. I dropped my dress onto the ground in between the bed and the bathroom and made a limping beeline to the tub, where I ran the hot water. I should put my whole body into it, but for now, it just had to be my feet.

Very rarely did I think about my feet, but when they hurt, they were all I could think about. I tucked myself into the side of the tub to sit on the edge and put my feet beneath the water.I wished it felt wonderful, but they stung, and I was pretty sure I was going to have to clean them off with antiseptic and antibacterial and everything anti before I bandaged them in a few minutes.

I closed my eyes. I just had to breathe. But then my phone rang.

I stared down at it as Hope’s name appeared on the screen. I answered it. “Hope?”

The sound of the airplane hit me before she answered. “Layla?”

I smiled. It was ridiculously nice to hear her voice. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you, hold on.” She paused for a second. “He’s being ridiculously mean right now.” Of course, she meant Dad. “And I’m hiding in the bathroom. Bridget is distracting him with numbers.”

I could practically picture it like I was there. I’d have been sitting with my legs up, staring out the window or trying to read because I hated airplanes so acutely, I could never rest, and Dad would have no need to talk to me.

“How are you?” she asked again after a long pause.

I swallowed. “My feet hurt.”

That wasn’t what she was asking me, and I knew it. But it was about all I could get out right then. Everything else was too much. Much as I adored my sister, I wasn’t sure she’d understand that. Or Bridget, if she’d been on the phone. I was the only one in the family outside of Justin who might be too lost to count at this point. Maybe I was, too.

Was I?

“Where are you?” Her voice wavered. She was upset. I mentally kicked myself for doing that to her. I’m sure it had been a terribly long day for her, too. And she had to put up with Dad.

I looked around. “In Zeke’s guest room bathroom.

Soaking my feet. Seriously, Hope, they hurt like hell.”

She ignored my comments about my feet. “You’re in Zeke’s house? When I called him, I thought he would help you, put you on a plane back to us, not take you in. I’ve never heard of anyone being in that house. Is it huge?”

I made a hmm sound in my throat that I hoped she interpreted as yes. I didn’t want to talk about his house, although I stored away in my mind the piece of information she’d just given me about no one coming here. Zeke said no one stayed here, but I didn’t know that meant he’d never had guests at all.

Of course, that might not be accurate. He didn’t have my family over. That didn’t mean people like the woman in the hotel who had wanted him right then and there hadn’t been. I shook my head. I was talking on the phone. I needed to focus.

“Yes, he took me home.” I should tell her what he’d said about Dad betraying him, about wanting something from me, except I didn’t. I chewed on my lip and considered why I wasn’t announcing what I knew right this second. Truth was I had no idea. Maybe because I’d been abandoned on a park bench.

I forced my mouth to work. “I’m not sure what happens next. I have all my stuff. I’m soaking my feet. What happened, Hope? Why are you and Bridget on a plane? And fuck, Justin. He… Well, I guess you know what he did.” I let myself say what I didn’t even want to think, let alone vocalize. “I wouldn’t have left you here.”

Her voice hitched and guilt assaulted me again. Why did I always feel like I couldn’t make them upset? In what way had I been reared to believe making my sisters upset was the worst thing I could possibly do?

Hope’s tears became my tears. I could hear her cry, and so I cried too. Was it all triplets, or was I the worst codependent person on the planet? It would be easier to talk to Bridget. She never cried. Not since we were children.

“Dad lost his mind. He ranted and raved the whole way to the airport. He was saying very weird things. I mean… I understand the business the way we all do.” I didn’t, but I wouldn’t get into that at the moment. “But he was saying things, and suddenly he seemed like he might have a heart attack. I was terrified to leave him. Justin got out of the car at the airport and told us what he’d done right before he took off. I was terrified, not sure what to do. And then I thought of Zeke. Dad said that if we didn’t get on the plane, he was cutting us all out. Justin ran off. I…I panicked. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t…”

I stopped listening. I actually understood. Plus, she thought Zeke would put me on a plane. Very little muss, very little fuss. She’d have helped me back in New York City. Hope wasn’t abandoning me.

And Bridget would have just trusted Hope to handle it because that was what Hope did. Guilt weighed on my shoulders. “Hope, you didn’t make me do what I did today. And you sent Zeke for me. I’m sorry I just…emotionally bashed you.”

She laughed, and I was able to take a deep breath again. “I’m so glad you didn’t marry that man. I hated Kit the second I met him. He’s not good for you. Doesn’t see you for all your beauty on the inside. I don’t know anyone who gives and gives the way that you do and expects nothing in return.”

I closed my eyes. “That’s not me. That’s Mother Theresa.”

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