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I wasn’t sure what was swirling between us, but when Uncle Brody said, “What do you think, Cade?” It broke whatever spell we had both been under. His hand snapped back from my knee, and he stopped looking at me. I craved to pull him back around, to stare into his eyes again, but it was gone, like everything else in my life.
I was alone…again.
* * *
ARIA
It wasn’t easy to carry a thirty pound four-year-old, up the stairs while trying to follow a tired eight-year-old, but I was managing just fine.
Asher was dead asleep, and had been for the last twenty minutes, propped up against my arm on the sofa. He hadn’t moved from his spot next to me since Lola and Brody left for their monthly date night, not even when I answered the door to the pizza delivery.
I always let them stay up a little later when I babysat, and I was sure Brody and Lola thanked me for it because it meant they got to stay in bed a little longer the next morning.
Belle made her way to her room, and I whispered, “I’ll be back in a minute. Get your pj’s on, okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured back in her tired voice.
I moved to the door oppos
ite Belle’s and entered the pirate-themed room. Asher was obsessed with anything to do with the sea, but mainly pirates, which meant he had a hand-built bed from his uncle Ford that resembled a ship, and there was a mural painted on one of his walls. It was the perfect room for a little boy, and even I’d admit I was kind of jealous.
Luckily, I’d already changed him into his pj’s, so all I had to do was place him in his bed and tuck him in. I ran my hand through his soft, brown hair, and smiled. He looked so peaceful. I wondered if I ever looked like that anymore. I was always wound so tight, afraid of someone noticing something I didn’t want them to see, that I constantly had my guard up.
I stared at Asher for another couple of seconds, switched his nightlight on, and then exited his room. Belle was already in bed when I walked into her room, the covers up to her chin, and her half-closed eyes focused on her bedroom door.
“Read to me?” she asked, although she didn’t need to because this was our routine whenever I was here.
I lifted the book she held against her chest and shuffled onto the edge of her bed, settling in for a couple of chapters of The Faraway Tree. This was one of my favorites when I was Belle’s age, and I could remember my dad reading it to me, doing all the different voices and getting excited at parts. He always read it like it was the first time he’d come across the words in that order, but I knew he’d read it over and over again.
Belle’s soft snores rang out after a few pages, but I didn’t move for several minutes. I stayed put, listening to the quiet sounds of the house, and wondered why I always felt so…different when I was here. I’d spent more time here than my own apartment growing up, and it had always felt like a second home.
Maybe it was because these walls didn’t hold the memories my apartment walls did.
I always found myself in this exact position, hating the thought of going home and being alone again. Mom and Sal were working the late shift, which meant they wouldn’t be home until around 2 a.m. And when they got home, they’d only have a few hours before one of them would be opening up for the morning shift.
Sometimes I wished we had more of a…normal life. One where we all ate together around the kitchen table at dinner and talked about our day. We weren’t normal, though. None of what we’d been through was normal.
The front door opening and closing brought me out of my own head, and I slowly lifted off Belle’s bed. I placed a piece of paper in the book to mark the page and then headed down the stairs. It was early for Brody and Lola to be home.
“Brody got called in to work on a case,” Lola said.
“Oh.” I nodded like I understood, and part of me did. There had been times over the years he’d been called away on a job at a moment’s notice, and he’d have to leave without more than a quick goodbye.
Lola patted the seat next to her on the sofa. “Come sit.” I did as I was told and stared as she flung her heels off her feet. “God, I hate those things.” She groaned and rubbed her feet. “I wasn’t sure I could last another hour in them.”
I laughed because the thought of wearing something like that didn’t appeal to me, no matter how much Mom went on about me needing a pair for winter formal. I had no intention of going, but if she had her way, she’d come with me.
“You doing okay, sweetheart?” Lola asked.
Her question took me by surprise. “Me?” I pointed at my chest and feigned a smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
She tilted her head to the side. “You sure? You know you can always talk to me, right?”
I swallowed past the building lump in my throat. It was on the tip of my tongue to spill everything to her, to let it all out and bleed my pain, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell her what I did in the privacy of my own bedroom. I couldn’t tell her the relief I itched for. I couldn’t tell anyone.
“I know,” I whispered, trying to keep my emotions in check. “I’m good. Really.”
She stayed silent for a few seconds as she leaned back on the sofa. Her features relaxed, but her eyes told a different story. “It’s not weird having Cade as a teacher?”
