“That’s right,” I affirm.
“I don’t need to know what happened, and I figure Janelle will tell me if she wants, but is she dealing with some type of trauma I need to at least be made aware of so I know how to protect her?”
I wasn’t expecting this, but my entire chest and rib cage grows warm with the concern she’s showing for my sister. It touches me more deeply than I could have imagined.
Taking a step toward her, I say, “It’s not really a secret, and no, it’s not a deep trauma. I mean, it could have been, but I got her out of there.”
“She was unsafe with your mom?” she guesses.
“With my mom’s new husband, Shep,” I clarify. “She met and married him within a few weeks. Not two days after moving into the house, he tried to make a move on Janelle.”
“Oh my God,” Veronica breathes out in horror, hand fluttering at her neck. “Did he…?”
I shake my head. “She fought him off. Managed to get her hands on her physics book, which was apparently quite thick, and smacked him in his face. Then kicked him in the nuts.”
“And she called you to come get her?” she asks.
I grimace bitterly. “No. She told my mom what happened, and Mom refused to believe her. Then she called me, and I took the next plane out to get her. She stayed at a friend’s place that night, and the next day I packed her up and brought her home with me.”
“Did your mom put up a fight?”
“I handed her a big enough check she didn’t care to fight for her daughter,” I say with disgust.
Veronica nods thoughtfully and manages a smile. “You’re a good brother,” she says, a repeat of earlier but with more emphasis, as if she believes it.
“I still have some work to do,” I admit, once again turning for the elevator. I wonder briefly what would happen if I went to the nearest convenience store and grabbed a box of condoms. Would she invite me in if I showed up with them in hand?
Most likely not. The mood is broken.
I tap the button to open the elevator doors and remember to ask as I look over my shoulder at her, “You still good to watch Janelle Wednesday night?”
We have a game in Vegas.
“Of course,” she says. “And also, I wanted to ask… my family is having our monthly reunion next Saturday, and I’d like to bring Janelle. I have a ton of cousins, some her age, and thought it would be a good way for her to make some new friends.”
“Reunion?” I ask, the concept strange that it’s done on a monthly basis.
“My family is huge, and close, and we get together once a month just for the hell of it. We also do all the holidays and birthdays. We even have a Groundhog Day celebration.”
“You’re kidding,” I say.
“Yeah, kidding about Groundhog Day, but we are having a big get-together on Saturday. Can she come?”
“Um, yeah, sure. If she wants to.”
“You’re more than welcome too,” she says politely.
“Thank you, but no,” I say without giving the idea any thought. The more time I spend around Veronica, the less I dislike her, and that can only mean trouble for someone like me.
CHAPTER 13
Veronica
“You do this every month?” Janelle asks in awe as she looks around my grandmother’s backyard. There are at least fifty people here, and another twenty-five or so will trickle in over the next hour. Our monthly Woodley family get-togethers are afternoon-long affairs filled with food, booze for those who are responsible enough to have a designated driver or Uber plans, and lots of laughter. I spent the first half hour after we arrived introducing Janelle to everyone, teasing there would be a name test at the end of the day.
“Usually more than once a month because someone’s birthday or other holiday occurs. We’re a family that’s always up for a party.”
Janelle smiles. “That’s exactly what this feels like. A party, even though you’re not celebrating anything in particular.”
“Au contraire,” I say with a laugh. “We are celebrating being Woodleys.”
My grandmother, Katherine—who also answers to Kat, Kate, Katie, or Kathy depending on her mood—married our family patriarch, Levon Woodley, in 1961. Between 1962 and 1972, they had seven children. My dad, Jason, was the middle child.
Dad married my mom, Lila, in 1995, and was the odd child who didn’t follow in his parents’ footsteps when he and Mom only had one child—me—and not a passel, which would be all my aunts and uncles. Between my three aunts and three uncles, there are twenty-six cousins. While my grandfather Levon passed away two years ago, everyone else down the family chain is still alive and producing, which is why it’s easy to see how we have roughly seventy-five or so people at any one of these get-togethers, when you factor in spouses and kids.
“You’re so lucky.” Janelle sighs as she digs her fork into her pasta salad. We’re sitting at one of the many tables that have been set around the backyard, and for now it’s only the two of us. It’s a bit cooler than normal for a January in Phoenix, the temperature peaking at sixty degrees, but outdoors is still the best place to gather as Grandma Katie simply doesn’t have the room for so many people in her small, modern pueblo-style house. It’s the most charming thing ever made of white adobe with arched doorways and heavy, exposed-beam ceilings, but at only about two thousand square feet, it’s a tight fit for our big family.
Food is provided by everyone in attendance. A sign-up sheet circulates each month, and my contribution today was a chicken burrito casserole. To my surprise, when I picked up Janelle at their condo, she’d made a big basket of crescent rolls to bring, which was totally unnecessary.
Riggs wasn’t there, and when I casually asked, she told me he’d gone to the gym but was due back soon. I’m not sure whether I was relieved or disappointed, since I haven’t seen him in a week.
Since the last time he kissed me—again—when we came very, very close to crossing a line that most likely would’ve been a horrible decision. I’m glad he didn’t have condoms on him.
Sort of.
Maybe not.
I don’t know, but I do know I’ve never had anyone confuse me as much as Riggs Nadeau does.
Which is why it’s even more confusing that before we departed, I left a note on the kitchen counter for Riggs.
If you change your mind, come join us. The food will be excellent and the company even better.
I didn’t sign my name but left Grandma Katie’s address. I have no hope Riggs will show up because while he might be making efforts to hang out more with his teammates, he has no reason to want to hang out with my family.
He has every reason to avoid me after our last meeting, which has left things awkward.
“How was the rest of your school week?” I ask as I dip my spoon into a bowl of Uncle Abe’s five-alarm chili.
Janelle started at the new fine arts high school on Tuesday. She stayed with me Wednesday night when Riggs was at a game in Vegas, and she practically bubbled over how awesome she thought it was. But I didn’t see her the rest of the week since I started my own classes. It’s been hectic.
“Still going great,” Janelle says after swallowing her bite. She chose to go with my cousin Chappy’s smoked ribs, and she picks one up. “The kids are so much nicer there. Not as stuck-up.”