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Lincoln
Lexie stabbedthe end button on her phone.
The color drained from her face, and she swayed on her heels.
I caught her elbow to steady her. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Who was that?” Eric glanced up but continued to sort boxes.
Lexie started. She discreetly switched her phone to silent and dropped it back in her pocket.
“Wrong number.” Her voice had the slightest tremor that went unnoticed by her brother.
But I heard it.
And my need for answers threatened to take over.
She cleared her throat. “Any luck yet?”
She set the box in her hands aside and righted another one.
“No.” He shook a cardboard box. “I think some of our new jars broke.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head. Disappointment carved the lines around her flattened mouth. She’d let her temper take control and it had cost her.
We’d all done it. I’d just had a lifetime of practice not to let it happen too often.
She’d been irritated because of me.
I hooked her chin and tilted her face toward me. “The jars can be replaced.”
She jerked out of my hold. “Oh yeah? Money doesn’t just fall out of the sky for us.”
Eric stopped searching, a touch of concern on his face. When Lexie saw his expression, she shaped a semblance of a smile on her lips.
“I’ll check the back. Maybe it shifted, but you keep looking.”
That seemed to pacify him. She hustled to the back of the van, and I admired how she wanted to shield her brother from wild fringes of emotion. I respected she knew what she needed to do to get herself back in control.
I didn’t like her need to.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than wait for us to get organized.” Aggressively, she righted an overturned stack of boxes. “How do we get out of here?”
I placed a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened.
“Who was on the phone?”
She tossed another box in a different pile. “I said wrong number.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She wheeled around and I prepared to dodge the box she looked ready to hurl at me.
“I can’t deal with you right now.” She hugged the cardboard to her body as if it were armor. “Thank you for the parking spot. You saved us an hour of looking for one. As you can see, I’ve made a mess of the rest of our day. We have three more stops, it’s almost six o’clock, and we didn’t have lunch.”
A sheen formed over her jade eyes but she blinked and it was gone. Her honesty—her vulnerability—made me want to fix all of it, which I didn’t understand.
I’d attempted to help her, she threw a hissy fit, and this disaster was of her own making. Yet I felt responsible.
