Page 69 of One Wrong Step
Chapter Twenty-One
Vivian
The last thing I want to do is talk about our parents and what’s going on with Mom. “Let’s not?—”
A knock on the door interrupts me. The knocks are slow, as if the person knocking is too tired to do more. Mom or George? Or both?
Jonah rushes to the door. I don’t move, not wanting to wake Maisy.
“Everything’s fine.” I can hear George before he’s fully in the room. “Carolynda is resting.”
“Are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Jonah folds his arms across his chest, frustration vibrating from every pore.
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Then why have you been so worried?” His jaw tightens. “We deserve to know, Dad. Vivian?—”
“Don’t speak for me, Jonah. Can you…?” I nod to Maisy.
Jonah leans down and takes Maisy. I stand and run my fingers through my damp hair. My shirt is clinging to me, but I ignore that for now. “I just have one question, George. For now.” I look him in the eyes. “Is Mom…?” I can’t get the wordsout without breaking down. My voice trembles, and I hate it. Blinking back tears, I force the words out. “Is she going to?—”
“No. God no. Is that what you boys think?”
“It’s not like you’ve given us anything else to go on.”
Now that I know it’s not life-threatening, I’m enjoying the way Jonah is standing up to his dad. I push other inappropriate thoughts away. For now.
“I’m sorry. I really am, boys. Can we talk about this tomorrow? I don’t want to leave Carolynda for too long.”
“Fine,” Jonah says. “Tomorrow.”
“Thank you both for taking care of Maisy.” He holds out his arms, but Jonah tightens his hold. What is he doing?
“You’re exhausted, Dad. Do you want us to keep Maisy?”
I stare at him. Why does he have to be such a fucking Boy Scout?
“Thanks, but I’ll take her. Carolynda has been worried about her.”
After we gather her things for George, including meds, and usher them out the door, I turn to Jonah. “What was that?”
He shrugs. His face is still tight. “I was being nice.”
“Well, stop it.”
It’s almost like the old Jonah is back. His eyes flash. “I can’t be nice now? Good to know.”
I move closer, and he takes a step back. Ha. “Being nice is overrated. I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone.”
“You have?” He swallows.
I grab his shirt and pull him closer. “Ask me, Jonah.”
A nervous smile slips out. “Ask you what?”
“You weren’t that drunk.” But maybe I’m wrong. What if he doesn’t remember?
“Oh. I… Are you sure?”
