Relative Design

“Tonight?” Anabel repeated, eyes traveling to the cable box, watching the time as it went from fifteen past eleven to sixteen past.
“Yeah, tonight,” Adam answered, grinning. Sensing her hesitation, he added, “Or is it past your bedtime?”
She stopped pacing the length of her room. “No! I just figured you’d have some after party or another to go to.”
He rolled his eyes. “You should be so lucky. No, no after party. Should I come pick you up?”
“Absolutely not. I haven’t agreed to go out with you yet.”
“Consider it a late night meeting with a friend.”
“We aren’t friends.”
“I was just trying to make you more comfortable. No, we aren’t friends.”
There was an odd sense of challenge surrounding the declaration, and suddenly she couldn’t say no. “Where should I meet you?”
Thirty minutes found her tiptoeing down the stairs, on her way to the front door. As she passed the sitting room, Beckett called her name.
“Oh, hey.”
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked curiously, brow furrowed. He hadn’t missed how she held her heels or her guilt-filled eyes.
“Uhm. Out.”
“With?”
“Some friends.”
“At this hour?”
She straightened her spine, and when she answered her voice was confident. “Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
“We’re meeting in the city.”
“How are you getting there?”
“Train.”
“Why don’t you take the car?”
She shifted her feet, the marble of the floor too cold. “I don’t have a license.”
“Do you have a permit?”
“Yeah.”
His brow furrowed. “So why didn’t you get your license?”
“Because I can’t drive.” She flushed and dropped her gaze. “I live in New York; I don’t need to drive.”
“I’ll take you out tomorrow morning. But for now,” he stood from the sofa, “I’ll drop you off.”
“No, Beckett—”
“Or I could just tell Eliza how I caught you sneaking out.”
She pursed her lips. “I could use a ride.”
He barely hid a smile. “Thought so.”
They stepped out together, and Anabel stubbornly stood on the stoop, balancing on one foot as she tried slipping on her shoe. Beckett sighed and took hold of her elbow.
“I got it, thanks.”
“I could see that, Wobbles.”
Her lips pressed together in a thin line but she said nothing, gingerly stepping on her heeled shoe as she put on her other shoe.
“I don’t remember you always being this stubborn,” Beckett commented once they'd entered the car, trying to keep his tone light as he backed out of the driveway.
“Guess you remember wrong,” Anabel said shortly, touching the hem of her dress. She’d gone casual, picking a sleeveless purple dress with big green flowers. Overall it was extremely unlike her, but she was nothing if not picky—and this worked.
But she couldn’t help but wonder what Beckett thought though, if he thought it was too short or inappropriate or—dangerous train of thought, she chastised.
“So, uhm, what were you doing sitting in the dark?”
“I wasn’t,” he answered uncomfortably. “I haven’t been able to sleep in my room since I got back. I was trying out the couch.”
“You haven’t been able to sleep for four nights and you’re just telling me?”
“Telling you wouldn’t have helped. The guest room’s Eric’s now anyway. Where are we going?”
“Times Square.”
He glanced at her. “You? Tourist spot?”
“Shut up. Take the bridge.”
“Not the tunnel?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
There wasn’t much traffic, luckily, and they got there pretty quickly, Beckett pulling over on the corner of 45th and seventh.
Anabel thanked him as she climbed out, fixing her dress once she was out.
“Anabel, wait!” Beckett called, waiting until she bent at the knees to look in through the window. “You look nice.”
He took her surprised silence as hesitation and sent her a thin smile. He just wanted drop his head back against the headrest and close his eyes, just for a second, please god.
“Thank you, Beckett.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll be around. Call me when you want me to pick you up.”
“You can go home, Beck. I’ll be—”
“Your friend’s waiting, Ana. Call me when you’re ready.” He rolled the window up and pulled away.
She watched the car drive away, gnawing on her lip. Something was bothering him, and she didn't know how to speak to him.
Resisting the urge to sigh, she turned towards the coffee shop.
Adam saw her the moment she stepped in front of the window, striding towards the door. The man on his way out held the door for her, and Adam watched her lips form words of thanks as she slipped inside, watched as the man's gaze follow her as she stepped inside, his eyes travelling down before he continued on his way. She wore a girly purple dress, one that swayed around her thighs with every step she took, and Adam thanked whoever the hell the designer was with every cell in his being.
He’d shaved, she noticed immediately, only the light shadow of a goatee remaining. It suited him.
The second thing she noticed was that he’d snagged a table in an empty corner, the surface of it clear and the empty seat placed directly across him. He was dressed better this time, Anabel appreciated, in another t-shirt and jeans that weren’t ripped.
Even sitting he filled those jeans out nicely.
“Hey,” he greeted simply as she took a seat, placing her small purse on the table in front of her. “You want anything?”
“Maybe in a bit.”
“Okay. You look nice.”
“Thanks.” She looked around, wondered what she was doing here. “I’d have thought you’d have left town by now.”
“No, our last show for this tour was the night we met.”
“So you’re just… here for now?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you like recording anything, or…?”
“Not at the moment. But we are coming up with new material.” Then he smiled. “Maybe you are somewhat a groupie.”
She laughed, unconsciously touched her hair. “Yeah, you wish.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
“True.”
Because he was seeing the beginnings of a frown, he changed tactics. “I’m surprised you agreed to meet me.”
“I don’t like being predictable.”
“Is that all?”
He had such a smooth way of speaking. It completely threw her off. “What else could it be?”
“Hmm. How’s your brother?”
Maybe she’d been thrown for a loop upon discovering that he was far more charming than she’d expected and maybe, just maybe, she’s been slightly distracted watching him speak, but now her eyes shot up to meet his. The confusion he saw there had him biting the inside of his cheek to hide the smile. “What?”
“Your brother? Beckett, right? How is he?”
“He’s fine,” she said cautiously, brow furrowed.
She had such an expressive face, if you were lucky enough to be close enough to see. Her eyes had darkened with confusion, her lips had puckered in the slightest of pouts. “Yeah? He settling in okay?”
“Yes. How’d you…?”
“I noticed his bags by the door. And his kid?”
“He’s not his kid,” she said automatically, defensively. Cynically. “Uhm, he’s fine too. Why?”
He considered it, decided honesty was his best shot. “In the two and a half times I’ve met you, this being the half, I’ve never seen you… relax the way you did when you saw your brother.”
The panic she felt now had nothing to do with his questions about her brother. The back of her neck prickled and her palms itched. “I’ll take that drink now.”
This time he was confused as he got to his feet. “Sure. What do you want?”
“Small iced coffee with hazelnut. Nonfat milk.” She was too distracted to offer to pay, much less go get the drink herself. Her only thought now was to get out, and get out fast.
She watched Adam step to the counter and order as her hand went to rest on her clutch. He took out his wallet, handed over bills, and her hand took a firm hold of the clutch. He wasn’t looking.
Now was her chance. Go, go, go.
Then he turned to glance at her, shot her a smile as he dropped his change in the tip jar. Her chance to run vanished as he kept his eyes on her while waiting for the drink.
She took a deep breath, straightened her spine. She could handle this, handle him. Besides, she’d never been one to run.
He came back with two drinks, placing the correct one in front of her, next to her bag. “Thanks.”
Her voice had cooled, her expression carefully blank. He was close, but he wasn’t lucky enough to see this time.
He’d miscalculated, he realized. Pushing the brother button had, instead of relaxing her, frightened her.
So he’d recalculate.
“If I’m doing the math correctly, you’d have graduated now, right?”
“Yes.”
The prim tone and the simple answer had him smiling into his cup. “What are you doing for the summer?”
“Nothing. I figured, since it was my last summer before college, I’d enjoy myself.” A decision that’d come in handy when Beckett had appeared, boy in tow.
“I can appreciate that. So you’d be free, say, during the weekdays?”
Weary now, she eyed him carefully. “Maybe.”
Catching her tone, he chose his words accordingly. “Cool. Being on tour I forgot all the great things New York has to offer.”
“Like what?” she asked tentatively.
“Like the movies in Bryant park, to start.”
She relaxed just slightly, enough to smile. “Every Monday at sunset.”
“Exactly. I was thinking of going next week.”
“Have fun.”
“Thanks. You planning on doing things like that? Since your summer is free?”
She’d been thinking about it, had dismissed it. But… she’d wanted to. She still did. “Maybe. I was considering it.”
He thought about how to play his cards, studying her face carefully. Not yet. “I always feel like as New Yorkers, we take what it offers for granted.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I agree, for the most part. Not speaking for the whole, of course, but…”
“Of course,” he agreed and had to bite the inside of his cheek again at the look she sent him. He’d be a filthy liar if he claimed he wasn’t interested. “Do you want to talk a walk?”
She tried to hide her surprise and almost managed it, except he caught the slight movement of her eyebrow. “Sure.”
“When do you have to get back?”
“Soon, I guess. Why?”
“Just wondered. Would you object again if I offered to take you home?”
“Actually…” She bit her lip. “My brother said he’d take me home.”
“Your brother?”
She shrugged, deciding she’d rather bite off her own tongue than admit she’d gotten caught sneaking out. “Long story.”
He held the door for her, followed her out and fell into step with her. “Care to tell me about it?”
“Not particularly, no.”
So family was off limits. “Okay. I haven’t been here in years.”
“Times Square?”
“Yeah. Another one of those taking advantage things, I guess.”
She laughed, shaking her hair out of her face. “Tell me about it. When I told my brother to drop me here, he was like shocked that I was going to a tourist spot.”
“It is human nature to take things for granted.”
“True. It’s nice here, though. I’d forgotten that.”
He glanced up at the dark night sky, couldn’t help feeling unsettled. Down here it felt like daytime, with the lights lighting up the night. Up above, past the lights, the sky was pitch black. “Me too.”
She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected him to… she wouldn’t say connect with her, but… something to that effect.
They walked in silence, drinks in hand. It was comfortable, more than either of them thought it would be. There wasn’t a suffocating need to fill the silence, fill it any way possible. It just… was.
When Anabel’s phone rang, they both moved together to the side of the sidewalk, out of everyone’s way, Adam patiently waiting as she answered with his hands in his pockets.
“Hello?” she asked, voice low.
“Eliza just called.”
“Oh. Are we busted?”
“Kind of. You’ve got some time, still. We could tell her there was traffic.”
“No, don’t. You’re in enough hot water as is. Where should I meet you?”
“I’ll be where I dropped you in like two minutes.”
“Okay. See you then.”
“Thanks, Anabel.”
She sighed quietly, too quietly for him to hear. Were they now that formal that he had to thank her for something so simple? For agreeing to go home earlier so he wouldn’t be in (more) trouble? When had they become this? “You’re welcome, Beckett. Bye.”
“You have to go?” Adam asked, once he saw her tap the end button on her touchscreen phone.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“What’s wrong?”
“What?”
She looked so sad. She tried hiding it behind her confusion, but it was still there. He hesitated then went with impulse and put his arms around her, holding her close and touching his lips to hers.
He half expected her to shove him away, demanding to know what he was thinking, or just walk away. Instead, she melted in his arms, her muscles going lax. Testing them both, he pulled her closer, deepened the kiss.
When she moaned, a low sound that had his hands tightening around her, he forced himself to pull away and fix a light smile on his face.
“What…?”
His jaw ticked as he tried to hold on to his slipping restraint. Did she really expect him to walk away when she stared at him through those dazed, confused eyes of hers? “Just because.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
He released her, took a huge step back. “Sure. Where are you meeting your brother?”
“Uhm. On the corner of 45th.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“Okay.”
He slanted a look at her, grinning. “You’re awfully agreeable right now.”
What did he expect? She’d never been kissed like that. Or, if she had, she’d never reacted to it like that. She wondered if she could get another kiss out of him before she left.
She wondered if she’d be able to sleep if she did.
“Anabel.”
“Hm?”
He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he’d honestly planned on using his words. It was just as surprising to him as it was her when he took her around the waist and pulled her to him, kissing her again. He wasn’t as careful this time, as gentle or slow. His hand tangled in her hair and when she gasped, he took it as invitation to explore. Her hands went to his chest, fisted around the shirt there.
This wasn’t a kiss for a sad girl, a kiss to make her smile.
He controlled the kiss, and he was the one to pull away. Once he had, he rested his forehead on hers, staring into her pale eyes. “I should get you to your brother.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Go to dinner with me, Anabel.”
“What?” Dinner? He was asking her to dinner after that? More importantly, he expected her to think logically after that?
“Dinner. One night. Say yes, Anabel.”
She was going to say no. Of course she was. He didn’t really expect her to say yes, did he? “When?”
His lips slowly curved and she had to make an effort to stay still and not kiss him. “Whenever you want. Tomorrow. This weekend. Next week.”
She couldn’t help the responding smile this time. “You have my number. Make use of it. I have to go.”
He knew that. It was just so much harder than he’d counted on to let her go once he’d gotten the taste of her. But he managed it, managed to let go of her and step away. “45th, you said, right? Come on.”
His voice was gruff and he took her hand to lead her down the block. She bit her lip to hide her smile, pleased that she’d had some effect on him similar to her reaction to him. As they neared the end of the block, he let go of even her hand. “Is that your car at the corner?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Get home safe. I’ll call you.”
“Okay.” She turned to him once they’d approached the car.
“Good night.”
“Night.”
He pulled open the door for her and she slipped inside, smiling at him through the glass once he shut the door behind her after saying hello to Beckett. He waved as Beckett changed the gear to drive.
“Had fun?”
Anabel looked away from the window to her brother as they got on the bridge. “Yeah. Thanks for taking me.”
“Sure. That was one hell of a kiss back there.”
She flushed. “You saw that?”
“Pretty hard to miss. Times Square isn’t exactly crowded at two in the morning.”
“Right.”
“You like him?”
“Let’s not do this, Beckett. It’s too weird.”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Sorry to nose into your life.”
She sighed. “Stop with the formalities, Beck, really.”
“What the hell do you expect from me, Anabel? I try to be normal, you don’t want that. It’s too weird. I try to act the way you want, I’m being too formal. What the hell do you want from me?”
“Beckett—”
“I don’t want to do this, Anabel,” he interrupted softly, tiredly. “I don’t want to snap at you that way. I’m sorry.”
She hesitated. “I’m sorry too.”
“You? What are you sorry for?”
She sighed. Where was she to start? She couldn’t even explain it to herself. “I’ll answer that someday.”
“But not today.”
“Not right now, no.” She wanted to, though. But how much did that really count for, at the end of the day?
She needed time. She needed to figure it all out.
“But someday?” he reconfirmed.
“Someday.”
“I’ll take it.”
At home, the two snuck in like two sixteen year olds, Beckett wondering when exactly he’d regressed. The last time he’d had to sneak in was after a date with Marissa Jenkins, a senior two years older than him. It had been a good night.
He couldn’t help the grin he wore now. It was a fond memory.
“Where’s Toby?” Anabel whispered in the dark of the foyer, holding Beckett’s hand to guide him through the darkness.
“I don’t know. He’s usually with Eric.”
She nodded, grateful for it. The mad barking probably wouldn’t have helped them much. Stepping into the sitting room, she deposited Beckett on the sofa and turned on a small lamp. “Thanks again, for taking me out.”
“Sure.”
“Good night, Beckett.” She leaned down, pressing her lips to her brother’s cheek. “I missed you.”
She sailed out while he recovered from the shock of her parting statement, going up to her room and changing. The heels she’d taken off before coming inside went in their place on the floor of her closet, the dress was hung up on the left side of her closet, with the other dresses, as it was replaced with sweats and a tee. Homey, with her feet still bare, she stepped back out and padded across the hall to what used to be the guest room. Slipping inside, she flicked on the lights, softly shutting the door behind her.
Eric lay in bed, pretending to be asleep, with the puppy buried against his side, under his arm. He was a light sleeper, used to being awoken by small sounds, but he hated this, knowing that whoever had come in could see him while he couldn’t see them.
He heard a soft sigh, and a moment later the covers were pulled up to his shoulders, and a hand with too soft a touch to be manly brushed his hair off his face.
Anabel rubbed Toby’s head as well, if only to feel less awkward, and sighed again. They’d really have to decorate the place. A kid shouldn’t have to stay in a place like this, with no toys or anything. Was he too old for toys?
God, she was so out of her comfort level.
“Good night, Eric, Toby. Sleep well.”
Eric’s eyes shot open the second he heard the door shut, and a moment later, so did the dog’s, more from Eric’s trembling than Anabel’s visit. He grinned at the dog despite his watery eyes and hugged him tight.

Hearing her phone beep, Anabel checked her phone, brow furrowing at the text from Jess, a girl from her high school.
Where were you last night? Didn’t see you.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. Thursday night, she remembered. She was supposed to have been out, partying with her friends. Instead…
God, what was becoming of her life?
“Hey,” Beckett greeted, grinning at her. “Have you recovered from your attempt at driving yet?”
She dropped her gaze, tried to hide her blush. She’d done well, surprising both of them. Until she’d almost crashed because she’d forgotten to look before pulling out of a spot. Rookie mistake, Beckett had said laughingly, brushing it off.
She didn’t have such an easy time doing that.
“Shut up. Where are you going?”
“I have a meeting. You’d be okay watching Eric, right?”
Her eyes narrowed in a way that warned Beckett. “Way to ask.”
“Sorry, it was really last minute. Please, Anabel?”
She rolled her eyes. “Go away, Beckett.”
“Thanks!” He patted her head, laughing when she slapped his hand, before grabbing an apple on his way out. She rolled her eyes again and uncurled herself from the loveseat, searching for Eric. She found him in his room, playing Tug of War with Toby. His fingers went limp on the rope as he looked up at her.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She leaned against the doorframe, watched him pet Toby. “Do you have anything you want to do today?”
“Not really. Why?”
“I thought we’d go shopping for stuff to put in here.” He’d have to be taken shopping for clothes too, she mused, looking at his baggy t-shirt and worn jeans. Hell if she’d get roped into that.
He looked around the empty room, baffled. “Why?”
“It could use some stuff,” she said simply. They’d have to paint the walls. A young boy shouldn’t have boring white walls. What colors did boys like?
“I don’t need stuff.”
Her back went up at his tone. “Well, you’re damn well going to get stuff. Let’s go.”
“But—”
“Toby,” Anabel called, picking the pup up when he came to her. “Get ready. Seriously. I’m barging back in here in five, ready or not.”
He scrambled to his feet the second the door shut behind her and started getting ready.

She really hadn’t planned on buying so much. Even if she indulged in shopping, it wasn’t like she or Eliza indulged in frequent redecorating. But, god, he just whined so damn much. The more he whined, the more time she spent in the store, the more she bought. She couldn’t help it. And, really, was it even her fault?
“What the hell am I even supposed to do with all this?”
She looked up from the towels she was picking. “You use these once you’ve showered. I’m sure even a smelly runt like you showers.”
He sneered, but it was halfhearted. If she was buying all this stuff for him, it had to mean she planned to keep him, right? She’d gone a little crazy though, picking out new lampshades and covers and a chair and some shelve shit. What the hell did he need all that for?
“Can we go yet?”
Her eyes narrowed, and he fought to hide his grin. She had nice eyes, even when they were shooting glares at you, he decided. Light, like a really pale blue or something, framed by dark lashes. She was definitely a looker. All three of them were, actually. He was just a runt.
But he wouldn’t always be, he thought determinedly. He’d fit with them.
“No,” she snapped, storming to the other end of the store and looking at a CD holder.
“What do I do with that?”
“You put CDs in it.”
“I don’t have CDs.”
“You will. Eliza works for a record label.”
His brow furrowed. “Like, with famous people?”
“Yeah.”
Maybe Eliza was cooler than he’d initially thought. But he only shrugged, feigning disinterest.
Twenty minutes later, Anabel was at the counter, asking for everything to be shipped over in a week. Once she’d paid, she grabbed most of the bags, handing two of them off to Eric.
“Man, why do I gotta carry all this shit?”
“It’s your shit, isn’t it?” Anabel retorted, shifting the bags around in her hands. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. Seeing an approaching bus, she led the way to the stop at the end of the block, climbing on after Eric.
“Now where are we going?” Eric asked after she’d paid for their bus fare, sitting on one of the front seats.
“Eliza’s office.” They were, thankfully, pretty close. The two avenues they’d have to walk, but otherwise the bus would all but drop them at the doorstep.
It had to be only thirty minutes later that they were lugging all the bags into Eliza’s office, Anabel dropping hers by the door before collapsing on Eliza’s couch. Eric, following her lead, did the exact same thing.
Eliza looked up from her notepad, eyebrow raised. Anabel simply shook her head before dropping her head against the backrest and wiggling around until she got comfortable.
Eliza shrugged, bringing her attention back into the phone call though her eyes moved to Eric now. He sat in nearly the same position as Anabel, head back and eyes closed.
Well. Wasn’t that interesting?
“Yes, Monday at two is fine. See you then. Goodbye,” she said, hanging up with a sigh of relief. Taking a stack of sticky notes from her desk she scribbled a note about the office meeting at the beginning of next week, sticking it to her desk before giving her attention to the two on her office couch. “Presents for me?”
“You wish,” Anabel answered, keeping her eyes shut. “I took the brat shopping.”
“Hey,” he protested, unoffended, having learned that the name-calling was just something they did in this family.
“Why’s he a brat? Shopping for what?”
“Because he wouldn’t quit complaining for like ten seconds. Stuff for his room.”
Eliza met Anabel’s eyes. “What about clothes?”
“Not me. I bought my way out of that misery by going furniture shopping.”
The two sisters grinned, saying their older brother’s name in sync.
“So Beckett it is,” Eliza decided, sitting back in her chair.
“Why do I need—”
Eliza fixed a steely glare at him. “Have you looked in the mirror?”
“Yeah, so?” He sneered. Anabel was cool, but Eliza…
“So,” Anabel continued, ever the peacemaker, “that’s not okay. Beckett’ll take you shopping tomorrow or something. You’ll have to do something, Eliza, you know.”
She frowned. “I bring home the paycheck. I win.”
“Beckett’s at some meeting or something. I think he may have gotten himself a job, too.”
“Well, I bring home the steady paycheck. And I’m going grocery shopping tonight. So, there.”
Anabel rolled her eyes. “Copout.”
“Shut up. What is all this stuff anyway?”
“Nothing we can put in his room yet. I want to paint the walls.”
Eliza all but actually sneered. “What the hell for?”
“Because I say so,” Anabel said simply, not wanting to get into it with the kid around.
“Fine.” It was a groan. “What do you have in mind?”
“So I was thinking like a dark gray and beige, maybe. We’d keep the bed where it is right now, and since it’s such a simple white with the flat headboard, it would contrast the gray nicely. So, the wall behind it would, obviously, be dark gray. The other three walls would be beige so the room doesn’t feel too dark. And since the wall with the window will be beige, it might work well. Oh, and I was thinking the gray could be that new paint they’ve just come out with, the stuff you can, like, write or draw on then erase.”
Eliza was rubbing her head by the time Anabel finished. Hitting the intercom, she asked her assistant to bring her a cup of coffee. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“Just do.”
She rolled her eyes, just to play the part of the sister. She’d rather bite her own tongue than go all motherly with pride for her talented sister. It would be embarrassing for them both.
“How do you know all this?” Eric asked, glancing at her and wondering if he should’ve just kept his mouth shut.
“I’m interested in interior design. It’s what I’m going to do.”
“Oh. That’s cool.”
Jen, Eliza’s assistant, stepped in then, holding two cups of coffee. She smiled at the two visitors, one of whom she knew well enough to know how she liked her coffee and the other someone she’d heard quite a bit about. “You two seem exhausted. Hold on.”
She went back out and got the chilled soda she’d left on her desk and handed it to Eric. “Figured you were a bit young for coffee.”
“Hey, thanks,” he said, grinning widely at her. “Yeah, I don’t know how they drink that stuff. Tastes—” Seeing Eliza’s glare, he quickly amended his words. “Bad.”
Jen nodded, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“No way.” He made a face. “You couldn’t pay me to drink the stuff.”
“I’m just saying, that’s what I said once upon a time.” She only allowed herself a cup per day, and the soda he was drinking had come from her private stash, but she only smiled. “How about I show you around campus, big guy?”
“Okay!” He got to his feet then turned to the two sisters. “If that’s okay, I mean?”
Anabel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
“Cool, thanks.” He ran out enthusiastically with Jen, listening to her intently.
Anabel turned back to her sister, eyes still wide. “What…?”
“Looks like someone’s got a little crush.”
“No way. On Jen?”
“Seems that way.” She smiled. “He’s taken an immediate liking to her.”
Anabel frowned, crossing her arms. “He doesn’t like us.”
“We’re threatening,” Eliza explained as Anabel stretched out, carefully watching her sister, scrutinizing her every move. She was pretty good at controlling her emotions, she knew, but she had tells. “We have the power to send him away.”
“But we wouldn’t.” She looked at her older sister and tried to hide her discomfort at having to ask by tracing the rim of her cup with her fingertips. “Right?”
“Right.” Sipping her coffee, she sat back again, crossed her legs. “How are you holding up, Anabel?”
The girl in question realized this was the first time she’d really gotten to be alone with her sister and held back a grimace. She normally didn’t mind these “heart-to-heart” talks with her sister, but she was so muddled about everything right now. Either way, aware that she did need to vent, she sat back. “I don’t know.”
Knowing her sister well enough to not read her answer as defiant, she frowned. “You always know.”
“I know!” she cried exasperatedly, throwing her head back in frustration. “But I just don’t this time. There’s too much going on.”
“Like?”
She rolled her eyes at her. “Like you don’t know. Beckett, Eric, everything.”
“What’s up with Beckett?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m glad he’s back and everything, but… a part of me is mad at him. Or wants to be mad at him. Or thinks I'm supposed to be mad. I don’t know.”
“Are you, though? I’d understand wanting to be, but are you actually?”
“I don’t know. I can’t figure that part out.” She took a soothing sip of coffee. “You’re mad at him though.”
“I believe I’ve made that awfully clear, yes.”
“I didn’t remember him much,” she admitted quietly, ashamed, and Eliza thought how she wouldn’t need to read her sister or look for tells. “Like, I remembered his face, that’s how I recognized him, but… I didn’t actually remember him. I remember things when he does it, like his smile, but I couldn’t remember any of it on my own. I thought…” She took a deep breath. “We never spoke about him. I worried I’d made him up when I was younger. Like an imaginary friend or something.”
“Oh, Anabel—”
She shrugged. “Obviously I hadn’t. Obviously, he was real. But… then I saw his articles and his writing and stuff and I knew he’d been real, but—I don’t know—I guess I wondered if he’d ever been mine. If he was just someone I’d misplaced in my memories or something. I think I read something about that somewhere.”
“Anabel, honey,” Eliza began, standing and circling her desk until she could sit beside her. “He was always as much yours as he was mine. As much as he’s Eric’s now.”
“I didn’t know. Why didn’t anyone ever talk about him?”
Eliza sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “You said you understood why he had to go. Did you mean that?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. I understand too. But it didn’t help that feeling of abandonment. It—it hurt, Anabel. And talking about him just made me miss him more. You never brought him up; I just thought it was the same for you or…” She sighed. “I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I was just being cowardly and I didn’t want to face that so if you didn’t talk about it, I didn’t either. I’m sorry for that, Anabel.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “I told him.”
“What?”
“Some of it. I told him how I’d wait for him on every occasion. I mean, I waited for him every day, even if part of me was convinced I was crazy and he was a figment of my imagination, I still did. But on every occasion, I’d wait. I’d think ‘Hey, it’s a special day. Maybe he’ll come home today.’ And yes, part of me did it out of spite, so he’d know, but most of me just… I don’t know. I hadn’t meant to tell him, ever.”
“Well he ought to know. I’m a firm believer in consequences.”
Anabel frowned at her. “Be that as it may, you know you’re just saying that out of spite because you’re angry with him.”
“Are you saying I don’t have a right to be?”
“That’d make me hypocritical. Will you ever forgive him, Eliza?”
“I already half have. But it’s like you said, the half that’s forgiven him feels I ought to still be angry.”
“It’s confusing.”
“And complicated. Speaking of…” Eliza glanced at her desk where her coffee cup sat. It’d be cold now. She looked back at her sister. “Eric.”
“Ah, Eric.”
“Thoughts?”
Anabel chose her words carefully. “He’s had a rough time.”
“The bruise on his jaw proved that.”
Tapping her fingers on the top of the backrest, she studied her older sister. “I can’t tell what you think of him.”
“He doesn’t trust us, and he doesn’t like us.”
“Beckett hasn’t told me much about him.”
“Or me. Loyalty, you think?”
“Maybe he wants Eric to tell us once he’s gotten used to us.”
“It’s a theory. I can’t help but wonder what the kid’s story is.”
“Likewise. Does it matter?”
“What?”
She kept her stare level. “His story. Does it matter?”
“It would help us determine what he needed from us, so yes. He doesn’t like to be touched.”
Now she was the one asking what.
“He doesn’t. You haven’t noticed?”
“No. What…?”
“That’s why I think knowing his story might help. I move my hands a lot when I talk and a couple of days ago he was standing next to me when my hand moved in his general direction. Kid moved away before I could so much as blink. He didn’t duck the way he would if he were expecting a blow, though I didn’t think that was so out of reach for him, but he sure moved. Tried to play it off by going and sitting at the table, but still.”
“He’s afraid of us.”
“He is.”
“How do we deal with that?”
“Let him get used to us, I guess. It’s the best we can do.”
Anabel nodded, tapping the fingers that rested on her lap, and tried lightening the mood. “Better start thinking about what a ten year old likes in the kitchen.”
Eliza groaned dreadfully, glaring at her. “I hate you for pointing that out.”
“You could just ask him, you know.”
“Kid’s like Beckett. He’d damn well rather bite off his own tongue than tell me what he wants or make himself at home in the kitchen. Hasn’t once opened the fridge or gone in the pantry.”
“Maybe you could ask Beckett—”
“I’d rather bite off my own tongue.”
Anabel laughed even as she rolled her eyes, not missing Eliza’s wry smile. “Oh, the irony.”
“Shut up.” She snagged Anabel’s cup from her, taking a sip then gagging exaggeratedly. “How the hell do you drink this shit?”
“Not everyone can drink your sugar with whole milk. Oh, and coffee.”
“Smartass. At least it tastes better than this crap.”
“It’s better for you.”
“Act your damn age. Your metabolism is better than mine.”
“Oh, whatever. And speaking of, I need skim milk.”
When Eric stepped back in the office, he found Anabel laughing and Eliza rolling her eyes. They both moved, making space for him to sit between them almost subconsciously. He hesitated then joined them.
“What’s funny?”
“My misery,” Eliza said shortly, thinking of Anabel’s earlier words. “Grocery lists. Better start your own, kid, or all there’ll be in the kitchen is Anabel’s health crap and Beckett’s heart attack shit.”
“What else is there left?” he asked seriously, baffled when the two girls laughed. “What?”
“Look at that, he’s got a sense of humor,” Eliza said lightly, shaking her head. “Tons. What do you want?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged and missed Eliza’s frown.
“You want to come with me?” she asked tentatively. “You could pick stuff you want. Or just keep me company if you decide you still don’t want anything.”
He studied her as Anabel shot her a big grin of encouragement. “You don’t mind me coming?”
“No.” She shrugged. “I’m starting to get used to your ugly face.”
He fidgeted for a second then smirked. “Good, ‘cause I’m getting used to your nasty smell.”
“Brat,” she accused halfheartedly, well aware that she smelled of apples. “What about you, Anabel?”
She stretched out with a smile. “Me? I’m going out.”
She could use a normal night out.