Relative Design

When Eliza padded down the steps around six in the morning, she found Anabel at the table. “Morning.”
“Hey.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
She laughed at her younger sister’s lack of understanding, pouring two cups of coffee. “Something’s on your mind. What is it?”
“There isn’t—”
“Because chewing it over all by yourself will help so much. Tell me.” Eliza slid the cup with nonfat milk and one sugar across the counter.
“Why are you up so early on a Saturday?”
“I thought I heard something from the room next to mine.” Anabel averted her gaze, knowing she meant Beckett’s room. “Speaking of… he called me last night.”
“Beckett?”
“Yeah.”
Anabel hesitated, then said, “What’d he say?”
“I don’t know. I turned my phone off and went back to sleep.” She shrugged. “Have you been up all night?”
“Nearly.” The answer was a sigh accompanied by a hand shoved through thick dark hair.
“Then you really should tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Well…”
“Good morning, Eliza.”
Eliza didn’t even pause as she raised the cup to her lips, taking a small sip as she studied him over the rim of her mug. Anabel wondered where she’d gotten the restraint from, watching her sister’s nonchalant expression, and wisely stayed out of it. Silence was the way to go here.
Her sister thought the same way, pivoting on her heel and going towards the kitchen doorway, both hands still wrapped around her warm mug and eyes trained straight ahead.
“Eliza.”
She didn’t skip a beat on her way out the door.
“I know you hear me,” he called out and she was forced to stop.
Taking a deep breath, glancing at the ceiling as she did so, she turned. “What?”
“You look nice. Different, but nice.”
“I know.”
“Conceited.” He grinned, ever the charmer. “You were just going to walk away from me like that? When have you ever been one for running away?”
She sighed, shaking her chestnut hair out of her face. “You don’t know me.”
He flinched at the edge Eliza only noticed in her voice after the words had escaped. “Can’t have changed that much. After all, you are the one who taught me that people don’t change.”
“What do you want? Why are you here?”
Anabel watched the exchange, eyes traveling back and forth as the words were delivered, her lip caught between her teeth.
“I wanted to come home,” he said easily, smiling the smile Anabel remembered occupying the request for pepper at the breakfast table. “You know, where the heart is?”
Eliza sighed, hated that she was already softening to this, succumbing to his so-sweet smile and tired, unhappy eyes. “Are you asking?”
“I am,” he said solemnly, all awkwardly told jokes and half sincere smiles aside.
“Then you know the answer. If you have to ask, find yourself some place else to stay. If you’re not… well, you’re already here.”
“You won’t even—”
“Let’s not do this right now, okay?”
He glanced around, only now seeming to notice Anabel staring unabashedly at her two older siblings. “Okay. You both have a right to be angry, but I had to go. Eliza, you know I had to go.”
“You’re right, I do know.”
“And I know too,” Anabel added, jumping down off of her chair. “I’m glad you went, Beckett. I’m so proud of the things you did there. I’m so proud to call you my brother.” All but seeing Eliza tense behind her when she moved to stand between the two, her back to Eliza, she shot a glance over her shoulder and added, “But I get where she’s coming from too. You could’ve kept in touch.”
Eliza released a sigh of relief, relaxing.
“I forgot that about you, how you could take both our sides while remaining neutral.”
“You wouldn’t have, if you’d been around.”
“Christ, Eliza. I never thought you’d be this unforgiving. Anabel, maybe, but not you.”
“She did always have a soft spot for you.”
“I’m right here,” Anabel snapped, not bothering to deny anything. It would be a blatant lie and everyone in the room would know it.
“Yeah, I noticed," Eliza said dryly. "I take it you knew he was here?”
“I’m the one who let him in.”
“Shouldn’t have admitted that,” Eric said, coming into the room. When Eliza stared at him wide-eyed, he stopped in his tracks. “Does she not know about me yet?”
“I hadn’t gotten to it yet," Beckett admitted, scratching his neck. "You may as well sit now; you ought to be part of this.”
“I’m not,” he muttered, with an almost adult bitterness in his voice. The bruise on his jaw shone in the light. “I’m not part of any of this. I’ll—”
“Eric, I’m calling a family meeting. That means you’re part of it. Now sit.”
“I’m not a fucking dog.” But he sat.
Eliza’s eyes had progressively widened throughout the conversation, but now they simply closed as she took several deep breaths. “Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on and why there’s, like, a six year old in my house dropping f-bombs at six in the morning.”
“I’m ten,” he snapped, shutting his mouth when Beckett glared.
The dog slid into the room on his butt then, and Eliza groaned. Wasn’t the room crowded enough already?
“You said he was family,” Anabel started, partly out of curiosity and partly to distract everyone from Eric and his bad attitude as she knelt beside the small pup, running her fingers through his soft fur.
“I did,” Beckett said simply before Eric could start running his mouth. “Because he is. Will that be a problem for either of you?”
“It isn’t a problem now nor will it be. But I—we’d like to know what’s going on,” Anabel said, frowning at her sister’s glower.
“Thank you, Anabel. Eliza?”
“What?”
“Problem?”
“You’re my problem, Beckett, not the kid. Maybe his language, but…” she trailed off, shrugging.
“My—”
She cut him off with a single look, one Anabel recognized. “Kid, you’re ten. The last thing you should be saying is stuff like fuck or any of its variants.”
Beckett tried and failed to hold back his grin, hooking his thumbs into his front pockets and rocking on his heels. Wouldn’t this be interesting? His amused eyes met Anabel and she relaxed, seeing the humor there.
“Like you know anything with your shit nine-to-five—”
“My nine-to-five career enables me to tell you to shut your mouth since it’s proof that I know lots.”
His answer was more a snarl. “You’re so full of—”
“Don’t say it, kid. I’m not in the mood.”
Time to step in, Beckett thought, leaning forward on the breakfast bar. “Since that’s mostly my fault, I’ll worry about that. In the meantime, since no one here has a problem, unless it’s me, I should fill you all in.”
“Isn’t that a refreshing idea? Anabel, have you taken Toby for a walk yet?”
“Yeah, earlier. Please, continue,” Anabel said quickly, deflecting him from Eliza’s attitude this time.
“Right. So… I’m adopting Eric. Or I’m trying to. It hasn’t exactly gone through yet. I mean, I have temporary guardianship, but…”
“Why?” Eliza asked, shrugging when her younger sister sent her a chastising look.
“Because I wanted to.”
She nodded. “Why hasn’t it gone through?”
“I’m not exactly the ideal candidate for a kid in the system. I’ve been living out of hotel rooms and suitcases for the last decade and I don’t seem to have the most reliable track record.”
“And they still considered you?”
“They considered the three of us.”
“What?” Anabel asked, dragging her gaze away from Eric.
“Well, you’re only eighteen, so not you. Not really. But they know you’re here in the house with us, so…” He shrugged and turned to Eliza. “I put down your name down as a reference and permanent residency in the house.”
She sat back, her fingernails tapping against the side of the cup that held her now cold coffee. “Okay.”
Eric’s head snapped up at that and Eliza kept her gaze on Beckett, meeting his warm, relieved smile with a look of indifference, Anabel watching the hope on Eric’s face with a furrowed brow until he dropped his gaze, gaining control of himself and his expression again. Hoping wouldn’t lead anywhere good, he knew that. But he wanted so badly to believe all the promise Eliza’s simple acceptance held.

“It feels like we’re more accepting of this whole deal than he is,” Anabel commented later that night, after Eric had gone to his room that was still as empty as it had been that morning. They’d have to do something about that, she mused.
Beckett tapped his fingers on the countertop. “I expected as much. Well, not you to accept him, especially not as easily as you did, but for him to have trouble adjusting.”
“If you found him in Europe, why doesn’t he have an English accent? He sounds pretty American to me,” Eliza muttered, nursing the beginnings of her headache with a shot of whiskey in her coffee.
“That's because he’s American. I found him here. Since when do you drink whiskey?”
“Since sometime after you left. Here, where? You were here, in the States?”
“Massachusetts. Only for a while.”
Her stare hardened. “And you still couldn’t pick up the damn phone.”
Anabel, already tired of playing mediator between the two, sighed. “Have the two of you always been this way? I don’t remember it like this.”
“Because I used to like him once upon a time.” She kept it to herself that they’d always been this way, squabbling and argumentative. “Why didn’t you call, Beckett?”
“Because I was trying to work things out with Eric. And that’s—”
“Right. The snot-nosed kid gets more importance than us. Of course.”
“Eliza—”
“My names for him are not up for discussion after I started my morning with “I’m not a fucking dog.” At least he doesn’t have that stupid Boston accent. Everyone would hate him then.” At Beckett’s blank stare, she added, “You know, Yankees? Red Sox? We don’t like each other?”
He shook his head. “Okay. You know baseball now.”
“I can be worldly without leaving, Beckett.”
He shook his head even as Anabel opened her mouth, and she sagged against the counter in relief while he took a seat beside his sister.
“Do you want me to go, Eliza? I can, if you want. I’ll take Eric and you won’t have to deal with—”
“That’s your solution to this, Beckett? Leave, again? You can do whatever the hell you feel best, but the kid stays.”
He let out a sigh of relief, grinning broadly at the scowling woman before him. “You want the kid.”
“Well you’re adopting him. Or we are, or something. I guess that makes him family.”
“How are you so okay with this?”
She stared at him for a moment, considering. Then, simply, she said, “Because you need me to be.”
In the hallway, she bumped into Eric, who guiltily kept his gaze away from hers.
“What—”
“Shh!”
Eliza raised an eyebrow out of curiosity until she heard Beckett speak up.
“So Eliza is okay with this. Maybe for the wrong reasons, but that can be dealt with later. What about you, Anabel?”
“I’m… I’m just really confused about this whole thing. Like, I don’t know what’s going on, you know? I don’t know who he is, or what his deal is, but… I’d be willing to find out.”
They were going to keep him, Eric thought, his hands fisted so tightly that his short nails still managed to dig into the skin of his palm. The puppy who sat beside him pressed against his leg comfortingly.
“It’s rude to eavesdrop,” Eliza said, but she whispered the words.
“I know.” He reached down and picked up the puppy, going up the stairs. She didn’t follow after him, but watched him go before following his lead a couple of minutes later.

“Hey, you’re up early,” Anabel said warmly, with considerable effort, as she took out the cookie dough from the freezer.
Toby was comfortably snuggled in Eric’s arms and made no move to go to Anabel. “Yeah. What’re you doing?”
“Baking cookies.”
“It’s ten in the morning.”
“I’m hungry. Besides, it helps me think. And knowing Beckett, it’ll be another hour before he wakes up.” She hesitated and glanced up at him. “You can have some.”
“Okay." He shifted on his feet. "I mean, thanks.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t you, like, eat the raw cookie dough?”
“Not if you didn’t make it. The frozen kind, like the stuff I use, isn’t supposed to be eaten raw.”
“How come you don’t make it from scratch?”
“I can’t cook.”
“At all?”
“Not a bit.”
“You make a weird girl.”
“Excuse me?” Her eyes narrowed and her jaw set as her hands went to rest on her hips. “If you think just because I’m a girl—”
“Only girls bake.”
“The hell they do. There’s a knife in that drawer over there, pass it to me.” At the hesitation in his eyes he tried to hide, Anabel gentled her tone. “I am enough of a girl to have no upper body strength. I need a knife to cut up the dough.”
He went to the drawer, got her a knife.
“Thanks.”
“Why are you being nice to me? You don’t even want me here.”
“That isn’t true. If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve said so.”
He snorted. “The hell you would’ve.”
“You don’t know me, kid, so you don’t act like you do. I’m exceptionally blunt. If I didn’t want you here, you’d know it.”
“You only want me here because of Beckett.”
“Maybe.” She met his gaze again after she’d cut up the squares. “I’m going to make him take me for bagels at this really great café I know. Wanna come?”
“I have a choice?”
“You do with me.”
“Okay, sure. What’re you doing now?”
“I have to place the dough two inches apart and then we bake them.”
“For how long?”
“Like thirteen minutes I think. I have to check the instructions.”
“Oh.”
He sat with her the entire time, much to her surprise. Though they were both silent for the most part, he stayed.
“I’ll have to take Toby for a walk after, unless you want to do it?”
“You’d let me?”
“He’s still small; you can handle it.”
“Okay. What kind of a dog is he?”
“He’s a Bernese Mountain Dog.”
“Mountain Dog?”
“Yeah. He’s gonna be huge once he’s done growing.”
“So why’d you get such a big dog?”
“Look at him, he’s adorable. And he’s friendly.”
“He is. What are you doing now?”
“This is a cooling rack. I’m putting the cookies here so they don’t get hard. Took me the longest time to figure that out. You want one?”
“Okay.” She handed him a cookie, watched as he took a cautious bite. “This is pretty good.”
“Don’t be so surprised,” she muttered dryly, turning the oven off.

It was just under an hour later that Beckett came down, still in PJs and completely panicked.
“Where’s Eric? Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, he—”
“Where is he?”
“He’s taking Toby for a walk. Calm down. What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t think he’d run, Beckett. Stop worrying so much,” Eliza said as she came into the living room, dropping down on the recliner. “Why do I smell cookies?”
“I baked some. They’re on the counter in the kitchen.” Anabel waited until she’d gone into the kitchen. “Why did you think he’d run?”
“Because he has doubts about this whole arrangement. He thinks you’ll send him away. So I just figured…”
“Wrong. Give him some credit—he’s not an idiot. He knows his best bet is here. He’s taken the dog out, then I promised you’d take us all for bagels. So I’d start getting ready if I were you.”
“Christ, okay.” He ran his hands across his face. “Bagels? Where?”
“This café I know.”
“Where is it?”
“By my old high school.”
He looked up at her then, eyes wide. Oh, no, he thought frantically. Oh, hell. “I missed your graduation.”
She stilled, careful to keep her expression blank. Voice even, she said, “Yeah, you did.”
“Shit. Anabel—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said simply, standing.
“No, Ana, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t—”
“Don’t say you didn’t remember, Beckett. That’d be worse than you not showing.”
He blanched as he understood what she hadn’t said. “You waited for me.”
She shrugged. “I waited for you on every occasion for the last decade, Beck. This is just another on the list. It’s nothing.”
“What can I—I’m so sorry, Ana. I really hadn’t real—”
“Don’t say that either. Just forget it.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“You didn’t,” she said simply, automatically, all but habitually.
“You can’t lie to me, not when I see the truth all over your face. This is so inadequate, but I’m sorry. I really am.”
“It doesn’t matter. Whatever. Eric is what matters now anyway.”
As if on cue, the boy walked through the unlocked front door, the puppy in his hands. Seeing the two standing beside each other, visibly tense, he put Toby down. “Hey.”
This time the dog did run to Anabel and she picked him up before he could slide into her leg, cuddling him to her chest and letting him comfort her. “Hey, Eric. Beckett was just on his way to get dressed for bagels.”
“Okay… what’s going on here?”
“Nothing. Right, Beckett?”
He held her gaze for a moment before sighing. “Yeah, right.”
Anabel sent the new youngest of the house a small smile before going to the kitchen and stopping next to Eliza. “Hey.”
“Hey. They came out good. And they’re still soft!”
“Yeah, it’s all the cooling rack.”
“Huh. Never thought that’d be so important. What’s bothering you now?”
“What?”
“What did Beckett do now? You’re upset.”
“Nothing, really. I’m fine.”
Here was the resentment, she thought bitterly. The resentment she so badly didn’t want to feel and had avoided naming since the moment she’d heard about Eric. He was just a kid, after all. What business did she have resenting a kid?
When Beckett reappeared showered and dressed, he casually slipped his arm around his younger sister’s shoulders, pressing a brotherly kiss to her hair. “You want shotgun, Anabel?”
“Don’t care.”
“Don’t be like that. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not being like anything,” she said, laughing though the sound wanted to catch in her throat. “I really don’t care. It’s not life-or-death, Beck.”
He sighed, nodding, and the frown on his face was enough to have her wrapping her own arm around his waist.
“But, you know, if it’s that important to you…”
He smiled, much to her relief, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d stiffened when he put his arm around her, and she looked away, frowning from the effort it took to not just lean on him for even a single second.

“Anabel!”
She turned towards the voice, seeing a small group sitting on one of the couches in the center of the room. “Give me a minute,” she murmured, going to the group and wondering why she hadn’t been called. “Hey, guys. What’re you doing here?”
“We came for breakfast,” Chloe began. “We were going to call you—”
“But then you didn’t,” Anabel finished and across the room, Beckett watched the subtle shift in her, frowning. His sister had always carried herself with a certain grace that, in certain situations, could come across as snootiness. But the shift carried that grace to power, moving it straight across to bitch territory. This was no classy, graceful girl that could mistakenly be labeled “snob.”
“No, it wasn’t like that—”
“I’m sure, Chloe.”
The girl dropped her gaze, biting her lip. “Sorry, Anabel.”
Anabel moved her accusing gaze to the rest of the group. Mostly unmemorable people from her high school, not anyone she’d really hung out with. It surprised her and helped ease her irritation.
The boy next to Chloe, she remembered suddenly, had been at the club when Chloe had disappeared to supposedly get Zoe home.
“I’ll see you later.”
“Wait, Anabel, are we going out Thursday?”
“I am,” she said simply, pivoting on her heel and making her way to her siblings. Eliza was busy looking at something on her phone, Eric trying his best to look bored but failing as he kept looking around the café in bewilderment, and Beckett stared at his sister, eyebrow raised. “What the hell was that?”
“What the hell was what?” she asked innocently. “I’m thinking the French toast bagel. What about you guys?”
“With butter?” Eliza asked, putting her phone away.
“Yeah.”
“I was thinking about that. I think I’ll just get a wheat with blueberry cream cheese though.”
“Wait,” Beckett said quickly. “Hold on. What was that back there, Anabel?”
Eliza sighed exasperatedly and said, “Girl dynamics, Beckett. You wouldn’t get it.”
“You could have just told me to mind my own business. I’ll get us a table,” he answered, jaw clenched.
“Wait, Beckett,” Anabel called, hesitating when he stopped. “What did you want to eat?”
“Not hungry, thanks.”
He stalked away and Eric stood unsure where he was, glancing at the two girls then Beckett, frowning.
Anabel bit her lip, staring after her older brother. “What do you want, Eric?”
“Nothing.” And he too walked away, going to Beckett and keeping him company.
Anabel was surprised at the loyalty, but said nothing of it as she joined the line where Eliza already stood. “Wasn’t that a little mean, Eliza?”
“Really, Anabel? You’re going to talk to me about mean?”
The younger sister frowned, crossing her arms across her chest, and didn’t speak again until they approached the counter. The girl on the other side was the owner, a tall redhead even Anabel had to envy just slightly, who she remembered from the days she’d come by after class or during lunch.
“Hey, your regular, Anabel?”
“Uhm, yeah. And can I please also get two French Toast bagels toasted with butter and two wheat bagels, also toasted, one with regular cream cheese and the other with blueberry? And two black coffees. Thanks.” Just as she paid, her phone went off and she sighed. “Hello?”
“Anabel? It’s Adam, from Friday night.”
“Oh, uhm, hi.”
“Hey. Have I caught you at a bad time?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the coffee shop by the door. Through the glass of the door he saw the rest of his band members get in line.
“Kind of. What’s up?”
His voice was amused when he answered. “You told me not to wait three days.”
“Oh, I did, didn’t I?”
“Are you normally so scatterbrained?” Her jaw quite literally fell open, but before she could snap at him, he was continuing. “I believe I owe you a walk to your door.”
“You’d owe me that after a date. We haven’t been on a date yet.”
“We would’ve been if you’d let me kiss you, sweetheart.”
Her back went up at the nickname, but she kept her tone light. “Have you always been this arrogant?”
“You’re the one who added yet.” He had her there and she knew it. “Besides, I’d call it confidence—”
“I wouldn’t.” She took the paper bag with the bagels and left the coffees for Eliza with a smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome?” Adam asked as the girl behind the counter, a regular Anabel recognized again, smiled and bid her a good day.
“Not you. I gotta go.”
“Okay.” She had such a prissy way of speaking, he thought with a grin, unable to help himself.
She hesitated. “I’ll call you later or something.”
“Sounds good.”
“Uhm. Bye.”
His laugh was warm and he couldn't help but be pleased at the unexpected moment of awkwardness from her. “Bye, Anabel.”
“Who is this you’re making a date with now?” Eliza asked as they approached the table. She placed one black coffee in front of her, the other in front of Beckett, and whatever the hell Anabel’s special was in front of Anabel.
“Just this guy,” she muttered, passing out bagels. “Beckett, I just got you what I thought you’d like, and Eric I had to guess with you. Sorry if you don’t like it, but shut up and eat it.”
“Thanks, Anabel,” Eric said, forgetting his usual snarky attitude as his stomach took over and he took his first bite. “This is good.”
“Yeah, thanks, Anabel,” Beckett agreed. “Do I get to ask about this guy you’re dating?”
“I’m not dating anyone.”
“Is it that guy who dropped you home that night?”
She blushed, squirmed, and wondered how she was supposed to talk to her brother about some guy. It wasn’t like she had experience with this sort of thing. “Yeah.”
“He seems a bit old for you, wouldn’t you say?”
“He’s only a couple of years older. It’s the scruff that makes him seem older than he is.”
“Who is he?” Eliza asked, obviously irritated that Beckett knew Anabel’s new guy and she didn’t.
“Adam,” Beckett said with a shrug, regretting giving the information when Eliza’s eyes narrowed and locked on his youngest sister.
“As in, Adam Martin from that band I signed?”
“Maybe.”
“Anabel.”
The bite in her sister’s voice had her telling the truth. “Yeah, him.”
She groaned, rubbing her head. “Anabel, don’t be an idiot.”
“Eliza—”
“Stay out of it, Beckett.”
“No. You want to be like this with me, fine, but don’t talk to her that way.”
“Oh, now you want to stand up for her?”
“Better late than never.”
“You have no right—”
“Yes, I do. It’s me you’re mad at. Stop sublimating.”
“But—”
“She’s not an idiot. Her judgment is good. Let her date who she wants.”
Anabel looked away, unsure of how she felt exactly about someone coming to her defense like this. She had to admit that she missed it, missed him, but… Okay, let’s do this logically, she thought. Was it worth the risk of getting used to it if he left again? But… why not enjoy it while he was here? Right?
“He’s a musician, Beckett. She can do so much—”
“I’m sure there’s more to him than his career, Eliza. Don’t be a snob.”
“Guys,” Anabel started softly, “stop it.”
“I’m not being a snob, I’m protecting my sister! And I’m doing a better job of it than you have in an entire decade! I’m in the business, dammit. I know it’s fun to be naïve and think the things they say about musicians aren’t true, but they are.”
“I’m sure they are. But how about you stop sheltering—”
“Sheltering? I’m not—”
“Both of you stop! Now,” Anabel hissed, glaring at both her siblings. “God, grow up.”
“Says the baby of the family,” Eliza grumbled, rolling her eyes.
“Not anymore,” she snapped, glancing at Eric. “And you’re both setting a horrible example.”
“I don’t give a—”
“Shut up, kid, no one asked you.”
Beckett watched the two with amusement, his lips curled wryly. Eric, about to snarl a retort, caught sight of Beckett’s expression and, after a quick study, smirked. “Assuming makes an—”
“Oh, my god! You’re, like, ten! Can you make a single damn statement without the embellishments?”
He sent her a look caught between amusement and disbelief. “You’re nuts.”
“You think that’s a coincidence, living with these two? You’re about to join the club.”
His shocked eyes met hers as his head snapped up before he was ducking his head, dropping his gaze. The hope he so badly didn’t want to feel caught him off guard as his stomach clenched. “Yeah, right.”
She saw the light in his eyes, saw it dim before he could drop his gaze again and a part of her, a part she didn’t know existed, had ever existed, yearned to chase away his shadows. She flinched, and unconsciously leaned away from him.
“This is pretty good, Anabel,” Beckett said again, to distract her.
“What? Oh, thanks. The coffee’s pretty great too.”
“I’ll get to it,” Beckett promised, looking around. The place was cool, he had to admit, done in neutral colors with the high tech computers and music instruments everywhere. On the walls hung records, along with pictures of bands who had, he assumed, played there.
Eliza watched him look around from the corner of her eyes, wondered if he was looking for escape routes. This whole situation was too permanent for him. And if the paperwork was in her name… well, he had no obligation to stay.
But she wanted him to. She wanted this, being on the brink of everyone about to rip each other’s heads off before things just… settled. It’d always been a family thing, the chaos of everyone arguing before it simply stopped, like there was an unspoken agreement between them that if things started to cool down, they’d let them.
The kid was following along just fine.
She wanted to hate him, she mused, sipping her coffee and watching as he and Beckett spoke, snuck glances at the bruise on his jaw. Someone had given him a rough time. Someone hadn’t wanted him.
How could she hate him, knowing that?
No, she couldn’t hate him. Not with the weariness she saw in his eyes, or the hope that occasionally sprung in them just to fade away in moments. There was unhappiness there, among other things she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Some of it, Beckett shared. The unhappiness was obvious. Was it at being back, or being stuck? Hell if she had any clue.
Unknown to her, Anabel watched her, following her gaze to Beckett and Eric. She knew her sister could be tough, she had to be in her field, knew she could be controlled and dignified in the worst of situations. She knew she could be cold, when the time came for it. But she’d never thought she could be that way to family, much less Beckett. So, he’d left. Abandoned them, really, but he’d come back, hadn’t he? And if they’d called, asking him to come back, he would’ve been back much earlier. Wasn’t that everyone’s fault, not just his?
Eliza could pretend all she wanted, but just because he had abandoned them physically didn’t mean he’d completely abandoned them. He was a grown man, he didn’t have to—shouldn’t have to call home every weekend.
But… what about once a month? Once every two months? Once a year? That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?
But then, they hadn’t called either.
When it came to the blame game, Anabel didn’t know who won.