Page 37 of Dark Time

Meaning exactly the same way we’d done ours. Workers moved the bedframe and began to put the bed up. We walked out into the kitchen, and I found the stove top we’d ordered didn’t quite fit. There was a hair’s difference, and luckily, another worker came in and shaved down the problem spot with a chisel and utility knife. By the time the stove was installed, you couldn’t tell the countertop with a thin veneer of granite had been chipped away at all. “Good job.”

The workers grinned and moved on to putting in the sink. Erica and I went into the bathroom and hung up shower curtains, a few wall decorations, and the towel racks/warmers. We weren’t just pretty faces around here, that was for sure, and Erica was definitely one to get down in the mud and do what needed doing.

It wasn’t a bad day, but I had that letter in the back of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. I went out to lunch with Erica and still couldn’t stop thinking about it. I tried to distract myself with a decadent chocolate dessert, but even that didn’t help.

What did he want now?

I chewed at my nail as Erica drove us back to the resort, and I apologized for being so silent during lunch.

“It’s no problem, Emily. I know there’s a lot going on in this place, and a lot to worry over. I don’t think you’re rude at all, so don’t apologize again. Let’s see what else we can get done to ease that worried mind of yours.”

That was Erica. She found peace through work. I started to unpack dishes and loaded them into the newly installed dishwasher. I put in the soap tablets and started the load. We wanted everything clean and sanitized when our first customers came in.

“Emily? Dylan’s called, he said your phone is off?” Erica came out of the guest room and handed me the phone.

“Yes, I turned it off earlier and forgot to turn it back on. Thank you.”

“Hi, Emily, what’s up, darling?” I heard his voice, and my heart melted and I smiled for the first time in an hour or more.

“I’ll tell you later. What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to check on you. How’s your head?” He must have been on his lunch then. I sat in a chair at the kitchen table. They were sturdy director’s chairs in off-white linen. Maybe not overly practical, but we figured most people in the penthouses wouldn’t be eating in often anyway. We’d gone for attractive over practical in this instance.

“My head is fine, actually. Really good. The paint fumes are all gone, and I can’t smell anything else.” I wanted to ask him to come and see me, but we were both busy, and that stupid letter could wait until we were together later. For now, I’d let it go.

“Good, I’m going to get a burger, and then I’ll be back in the office if you need me.”

“Enjoy your lunch, darling. See you later.” I hung up the phone and took it back to Erica. “Thanks for that. I’m going to go over and check the other penthouse, see how the beds are in those and check the couches.”

“Great. I’m just getting the curtains up in the guest bedroom. I’ll join you in a bit.”

I walked into the penthouse and checked that everything was alright. The three penthouses were basically the same layout, but each one had its own quirks. I knew I didn’t have to do any of this, but I really wanted to avoid that letter. If I went back to the penthouse alone, I might open that letter.

If it was more abuse from my brother, Dylan would find me in a flood of tears. If that happened, he was liable to hunt Trent down and beat him to a pulp. Not that Dylan was the violent kind, but I saw the way the mention of Trent and how my family had treated me made his demeanor change. He went from happy, calm, and collected, to icy cold, distant, and hard all over.

I didn’t want the whole thing to get worse. I’d cry if it was more of Trent’s shit, but if he was there, I wouldn’t feel so alone. He’d be there to reassure me and help me to throw the damn letter away.

I couldn’t hope that it was good news, though, I supposed it could be. Trent, for whatever reason, had gone back to dick mode when it came to me and Dylan. I thought his wife had calmed him down, brought out a softer side to him, but I hadn’t seen that side in a while now. He had probably found a way to cut me out of the family money, though I doubted even Dad would go that far.

Dad might not have been the most loving man to grow up with, but he’d loved me in his own way. I’d been his only girl, and for the longest time, the only child who stuck by him. The boys had gone off into the world to sow their oats and do the stupid things that I’d had to clean up. I’d been by my father’s side, and I’d helped him with that crazy scheme of his when he decided it was time to call the boys home.

Which was part of the reason it had hurt so much when my father agreed to cut me out. I’d wondered if it was another scheme, if he was doing this to teach us all some lesson, but I hadn’t heard from him. After a while, I’d started to think even he had truly disowned me.

I’d learned to block the pain out, and Dylan did his best to keep me happy. He went above and beyond quite often, and I couldn’t repay him for that. He was the only reason my family’s abandonment hadn’t crushed me. He would get me through whatever fresh hell Trent wanted to throw at me. I just knew he would.

I managed to get through the rest of the day without breaking down in tears or running to the penthouse to tear the letter open. Part of me felt like I owed it to Dylan to open that letter with him there, and so, as much as I wanted to get it over with, fear and that decision made me put it off. I was a mess by the time I went back to the penthouse to start dinner.

I burned the spaghetti sauce I’d made, and the frozen bread dough hadn’t thawed out on the counter. When the pasta burst into flames in a pot of water, I threw it in the sink, turned the stove off, and burst into tears. I was like that when Dylan came home and walked into the kitchen. I hurried and wiped at my face with a paper towel as he came in.

“Emily, what’s wrong, honey?” He knelt in front of me as soon as he saw my face. A quick look at the cooking area explained some of it. “Oh no, what went wrong?”

“It’s my fault, I’m too distracted. I’ve never cooked on an electric stove before, and it’s not the same as gas stoves. I just, I don’t even know how the pasta caught on fire, it was in a pot of water, for fuck’s sake. I’m just, I don’t know, I’m useless today!” I let my head drop down on my folded arms and couldn’t help it. I started to sob again.

“It’s no problem, Emily, we’ll have something delivered. Don’t worry about the food. Come into the living room with me. Come on, forget this stuff.”

I wanted to sit at the table and put off going into the living room. The letter from Trent was in there on the coffee table, and I didn’t want to go near it. I even dug my heels in as we walked into the room. The sun had started to go down, and the room was dim with only a lightbulb on. Dylan glanced at the paper on the table but didn’t really look at it.

“Your phone has been off all day, and now you’re here in tears. Tell me what’s wrong and who I have to kill.” He sat in the corner of the couch and pulled me down with him.