Relative Design

Anabel went home to change her clothes and fix her hair before going to Eliza’s, but that was where she ended up, looking fresh and rested. Luckily Eliza was home, bumming around in her PJs.

One look at Anabel, and she knew. “You and Adam had sex.”

She cocked her head, pursed her lips. “Can I come in?”

“You’ve never had to ring the doorbell before, you don’t now. Use your damn key.” But she moved out of the doorway to let her in.

“Thanks. Eliza, I’m sorry.” She tried to ignore the look of complete and utter surprise on her sister’s face as she toed her shoes off in the foyer.

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you that night. I realized that the next morning but my pride wouldn’t let me come tell you that.”

Eliza watched her for a moment before nodding and taking her purse. “I’ll put this down. Go have a seat or something.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“So what were you doing, before I got here?” Annabel asked as she perched on the edge of the sofa armrest, raising her voice slightly so Eliza would be able to hear. There was a fresh bouquet of flowers on the coffee table in the living room.

“Just cleaning a bit. I sent Will out on a grocery run.”

“You always did hate having to get groceries.”

“Especially for Eric,” she agreed, stepping into the living room and dropping onto the sofa cushion. “Spoiled brat could never just open his big mouth and tell me what the hell he wanted me to bring him.”

“He had no problem telling us anything else.”

“Especially how bad we smelled.”

“Or how ugly we were.”

“He grew out of that.”

“And his clown feet.”

Eliza laughed loudly, a deep laugh that came straight from the belly and had the tension between Anabel’s shoulders vanishing. “He grew into that tall, lanky body of his.”

“He did. I’d bet anything he’s a total heartbreaker now.”

“I don’t know about that, but he sure is a player.” She shook her head, rolled her eyes. “What is it about that age?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure he’ll grow out of that, too.”

“I hope so, because that snot-nosed kid has turned into a pigheaded teenager and he’s driving me nuts.”

“He isn’t that bad.”

“To you,” she muttered sourly.

“He isn’t!”

“Okay, fine, he isn’t. But he isn’t totally innocent either.”

“Neither were we, at his age. And we’re girls.”

“You were a pain in the ass,” Eliza recalled, head tilted to the left as she thought back to it.

“Shut up. Nice flowers.”

“Hm? Oh, I picked them up only yesterday. I could bring you a bouquet. You always did forget things like that.”

Annabel turned, sliding onto the sofa from the armrest so she was facing her. “What do you mean?”

“You always remembered stuff like that with other people’s homes and rooms and stuff, but you’ve always forgotten to add the feminine touches, like flowers, to your own place.”

“You never did,” Anabel remembered. “You were always putting a fresh bouquet of flowers on the dresser in my room, or changing the potpourri you kept on my windowsill.”

“You’d never have replaced them.”

“You’re right—I wouldn’t have.”

“So someone had to.”

“You didn’t have to either. But you remembered to. You cared enough to.”

Eliza tilted her head towards her sister. “Anabel, where’s all this coming from?”

She pushed off the sofa, paced the length of the living room to burn off the access energy just like she had a million times before when she was younger and the area rug was different. “You took me in. That’s a big deal. But you took me in and gave me a house. You made that house a home for us both. You remembered stupid things like flowers or potpourri, things I’ll always remember because you went the extra mile to do those things for me. That’s important to me.”

“If you’re going to thank me—”

“If I’m going to thank you, you’ll shut up and listen to me do it.”

“Always were stubborn. All right.” She put her feet up on the table, something Anabel had done herself many times because Eliza had made it so gestures like that were acceptable, part of the norm. “Then get on with it, I suppose, since I don’t seem to have much of a choice about the matter.”

“Shut up. You constantly brought me candles, because you knew I liked them—”

“Not that you used them. Don’t think I didn’t notice you pulling those out of your boxes.”

“Would you shut up? I’m in the middle of a monologue here.”

Eliza snorted in laughter then shut up at the look she was given.

“You’re right, I didn’t use them. I couldn’t bring myself to light them in Europe. I used some of them, most, but when the numbers started dwindling, I couldn’t anymore.” She took a deep breath. “You always knew me better than I knew myself. You brought me those candles because you knew I loved lighting them and I’d never get around to buying myself some. So you’d pick them up on your way home from work and leave them in my room without making any kind of fuss about it.”

“You noticed that?”

“Of course I did. I may have been absent minded about getting all that stuff for myself, but it didn’t mean I didn’t notice when someone else did it for me.”

“Anabel—”

“I’m not done,” she said shortly. “I’m not going to list all of the other billion things you did because, well, I’m not that pathetic and neither of us have the time for it. But you did a lot, at the top of that list being eat that god awful breakfast I made that one time.”

Eliza grinned. “That was pretty terrible.”

“Terrible? The first bite made you sneeze because of the amount of pepper.”

“We can stick to god awful, then.”

“Yeah. We can. We should.” She turned to face her then, hugging her elbows, and just for a moment, Eliza saw Anabel as she had the first time they’d been here like this, Eliza sitting and listening while Anabel paced and simmered. Then she blinked and it was her grown up sister standing there, looking apologetic and frustrated and upset. “You never let me thank you. Why is that?”

“Because I don’t need you to thank me, Anabel.”

“You deserve to hear it, to know it.”

“Ana—”

“I’m sorry for being so mad at you, Eliza. I’m not used to being kept out of family matters, family matters concerning you or Beckett or Eric anyway. But it’s not your place to tell me and I should’ve been understanding of that. More, when I realized I was wrong, I should’ve said something.”

“It’s okay—”

“I saw the linguini you left in my fridge the other night.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there, but…” She shrugged.

“I was upset I’d missed you, and grateful I had a sister who made sure I wasn’t living off of those noodle packets even when I’m being a bitch.”

“Like you’d eat those noodles.”

Anabel laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Told you that you knew me well. Thank you, Eliza.”

“You’re welcome. What have you been eating the last few weeks?”

Anabel winced. “There’s this fro-yo place down the block—”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Well—”

“You’ll have dinner here tonight, then. A real meal this time.”

“Okay.” She caught the shine of her sister’s eyes and went to sit by her, taking her hand. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t.” Even as she said it, her façade crumbled and her lower lip trembled. She pulled Anabel to her, ran a hand along the length of her hair. “You’re not a bitch. No bitch would’ve said any of what you just said to me.”

“I didn’t do anything; I just stated the—”

“Anabel, hush. God, I’m a mess. Look at what you did,” she teased, reaching over to the table for a tissue. “Now what brought all this about again?”

Anabel considered the best way to say it so she could avoid the details, but then decided not to censor. It was, after all, what had started all this in the first place. “I was with Adam this morning and he was cooking breakfast. When I offered to help, we ended up talking about my terrible kitchen abilities.”

“Kitchen abilities?” Eliza echoed, amused.

“Remember when I broke all those dishes because you decided I needed chores and one of them ought to be doing the dishes? Or when I cut my thumb trying to cut an—”

“Oh, right. Kitchen abilities. Continue.”

“So I ended up telling him how I cooked you breakfast and how awful it was.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked if you ate it. When I said you did, he said you loved me.”

Eliza’s features softened as her eyes watered again. “I always did like that boy.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I started to,” she snapped, dabbing at her eyes. “How are things with you two now?”

“Good.”

“You had sex.”

Annabel rolled her eyes. “It’s creepy how you always know.”

“You never look so relaxed otherwise.”

“Shut up.”

“You were saying?”

“I don’t know what’s up, exactly. We had a talk this morning and decided—”

“No, no. Don’t give me what you two decided. I want the whole story, please.”

Anabel sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine. Do you want some water first?”

“I’m okay, honey. Really. Now tell me all about what happened.”

So she sat back and did just that.

When she stopped speaking, Eliza stared at her with wide eyes. “Have you ever even been in a relationship before?”

“Of course I have,” Anabel said indignantly.

“One where you actually had substantial feelings for the guy?”

“Oh. Well, there was the guy in Europe. I cared about—”

“Anabel.”

“Okay, fine, I guess not.”

“And Adam…?”

“Worries me. I’ve been careful to only date certain types of men. All of them were guys I could easily walk away when the time came for it.”

“Adam isn’t one of those guys?”

“I thought he was, that summer before I left.”

“And now?”

She looked down at the denim covering her knees. “Now I think I might’ve been wrong.”

“Well, then.”

“Is that the best you’ve—”

“You said ten things,” Will snarled as he stepped through the door with grocery bags in hand. “Ten things does not mean give me a list of ten things then text me fifty other things you supposedly forgot.”

“Oops?”

“Being cute is not going to help you. Dammit, Eliza!” He glanced at Anabel. “Hey.”

“Hello,” she said simply, trying to hide a grin and failing.

“But, Will, I needed to—”

“Don’t you use that I’m-pregnant tone!”

“But I am pregnant!”

“Eliza,” he growled, scowling even when she stepped to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Anabel silently snuck out of the house and went to Will’s car, huffing at the bags there. He wasn’t kidding.

She took several bags and started taking them inside. On her third trip, she saw a lady standing at the end of the driveway, watching her. Her hair was light blonde, stringy, and her skin was just as pale and washed out as her hair. She was thin, sickeningly so, with her collarbone jutting out of her skin that was all too visible thanks to her low cut top which, if worn correctly, might’ve been kind of stylish. Her shorts stopped high on her thighs and her heels were trying much too hard to look like designers.

A shiver ran down Anabel’s spine.

“Can I help you?” The door was still open behind her. She could easily go back inside if the woman continued to rub her the wrong way.

“You certainly can.” Her grin was quick, wolfish, and hungry. She considered stepping closer then decided against it. She wouldn’t want to scare the poor girl, would she? “Do you know where the nearest pharmacy is?”

“Oh.” She relaxed just slightly. “Yeah, you just go down the street and make a right at the light. It’ll be right on the corner.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks. That’s a lovely house you’ve got there.”

She tensed again and got the last of the bags before closing the trunk. “Thank you. Excuse me.”

She stepped inside, grabbed the keys and used the remote to make sure the car was locked then shut the door and locked it behind her. When she went to the window and glanced out, the woman was already down the street.

She hadn’t planned for anyone in the house to catch her snooping, but she’d played it off for the most part. The girl had seemed suspicious though, unnerved. It was fine though, she thought, getting into her secondhand car parked around the corner. At least it hadn’t been someone else.

“Guys,” Anabel asked, causing the couple in the living room to move apart from each other. “Uh, I just caught someone lurking outside. She totally freaked me out.”

“What were you doing?” Eliza asked.

“Getting the groceries before they went bad, since you two were…” She waved her hand vaguely.

“Why did she freak you out?” Will asked, guiding Anabel to the sofa.

“I don’t know. Just a gut feeling, maybe.” She blushed, feeling ridiculous. But there was something...

“What did she want?”

“Just directions. But… I don’t know. There was just something about her that I… I’m being silly.”

“You’re not, Anabel. I’m a reporter—I believe strongly in gut feelings. What was she like?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, thoughtful. “She was… she was older than me, trying to seem… she wore a lose white boyfriend tee, V-neck, low cut, and denim shorts, like the ones I used to own in high school. She wore heels that didn’t really match the rest of her look.”

“Was it a case of bad fashion sense?” Eliza asked, throwing her hands up when the two glared at her.

“No, she… she had this long stringy hair and this bony body and—she seemed worn, older than she was. Her hair was stringy, like it hadn’t been cared for. And I—something about her seemed familiar under all that… hardness, I guess you’d call it.”

Will stiffened, trying to play it off when Eliza looked at him. “I’m sure it was nothing,” he said, keeping his expression clear.

“I hope so.”

“You’re really freaked out, aren’t you?” Eliza murmured, rubbing Anabel’s shoulder. “Here, I’ll make you hot cocoa.”

“Before dinner?”

“Anabel, just drink it.”

“Okay.”

Hoping to distract her, Will glanced at her and Eliza then, after his wife left, said, “Are you two okay now?”

“Yeah, we worked things out.”

“I always knew you would.”

“I guess I did too.” And she’d bet anything Eliza had as well.

“Good. I assume you’ll stay for dinner?”

“Yeah.” She glanced towards the front door. “Do you think she’ll come back?”

“No,” he lied. “Don’t worry about it.”

He'd do the worrying for them both.