Page 21 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“No Dad today?” I ask, wondering if they played rock, paper, scissors for who would get to “inspect” my home.
“No, he had a meeting with Logan about one of his properties.”
Logan.
Though my parents have their opinions about my job, they have no qualms about being friends with my boss. Logan has never allowed their connection to play a part in my work, but my parents absolutely believe they’re to thank for any success I might find at Empyreal.
“Ah. That explains why I didn’t see him. Though, I was up on the mountain most of the day.”
“In this weather? Rory, honestly, is that even safe?” She sounds scandalized.
I don’t tell her it likely wasnotsafe, instead opting for the positive spin.
“It wasn’t too bad while I was up there, but the resort lost power and I figured I’d head home to get some more work done from here.” I hope the implication will lead to her leaving, and I almost think I’ve done it when she stands up in her perfectly pressed slacks and cashmere sweater. Only, she walks around to the coffee pot and refills her cup. I drop my head forward, takinga deep breath before pulling another sip of coffee between my lips.
“So, everything looked good with the house then? I told you there weren’t any issues.”
“I know, but your father doesn’t like to let these inspections go too long,” she says, like she wasn’t the one who first proposed the idea.
“Yeah, of course.”
Silence stretches between us. We’ve hit on work, and the house, the next topic is sure to be—
“How are Breck and Willow settling in?”
Well, at least it’s not my love life. The question smarts a little anyway, because they’re great. So great they don’t need me bothering them anymore. My chest tightens and the sting that was festering in the back of my throat returns, but I refuse to cry in front of my mom.
Glancing away, I say with as much nonchalance as I can muster, “They’re doing great. All settled in.”
“Oh good. You’ll keep an eye on things over there for us, won’t you?”
I swallow. “Sure, of course. Though I think they’re just trying to enjoy their time here. I don’t want to bother them.”
“Well, Wes will be here soon and can help out. I’m sure Breck will be glad to havehimaround.”
“Yep.” Keeping the hurt at bay is a struggle. But she’s right. God, I’ve never felt more like an unwanted younger sibling in my life. Wes never made me feel that way, no matter our age difference. He was always the best at including me. He never once locked me outside his room when his friends were around or made me feel like I was lame.
Mom pushes away from the island and places her mug in the sink. When she squeezes my shoulder, I lean into the touch, desperate for affection regardless of where it comes from. I lookup, our eyes catching, and I wonder if she can see I’m having a hard day. Her eyes soften just a touch but then—
“When Wes and Joss get in next week, we said they could stay here with you since you have the extra room. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
Of course it’s okay, but why couldn’t she ask me first? Will I always feel like a visitor in this home? It also irks me the way she says “we,” like this was a joint decision between her and Dad, as if they’re still a couple.
When their marriage started to fail, they pulled the plug on it, no love lost. It was done with such ease, so few considerations, that I’ve always suspected they might do the same to me one day.
I nod, unable to find words, and she says, “Great. They’ll have more fun here with you than at mine or your father’s house. Have a good rest of your afternoon, Rory. See you and Jamie for dinner on Sunday.” She plants a perfunctory kiss on my cheek and moves to the door, out into the storm, leaving me to deal with the one raging inside of me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rory
Wes is vibrating with energy in the passenger seat of my car, talking animatedly while Joss looks on from the back seat, cracking jokes about how much of a golden retriever he’s being. I can’t believe they’re really here. Wes, of course, gave me a hard time for crying when I picked them up, but I couldn’t help it. From the minute I hugged Joss to when I was wrapped up in Wes’s arms, I was an emotional mess. I’ve missed him so much, and having him home makes everything feel right in the world.
The drive was filled with easy conversation, mostly catching them up on the plans for their elopement on New Year’s Eve—a mere ten days away. Wes only popped the question a few days ago, so I’ve been going full tilt to ensure this’ll be the most incredible tiny wedding imaginable.
Breck texted me to say he took care of the necessary paperwork to officiate, and that’s been the extent of our communication in the last week. Beyond catching the occasional glimpse of him and Willow on the slopes, I haven’t seen them either. I don’t blame him for wanting space.I don’t. He’s figuring out his life, and he doesn’t need anyone else in the mix.
Knowing that doesn’t stop me from repeating his words in my head and feeling their sting just as acutely as the day he said them. With Wes and Joss here though, there will be ample time where we’re all together, so I’m trying to move past that. Let it go.
