“How do you know I’m not Burke?”
“His eyes have a tone of green. Yours are more like Kingston’s. Well, his eyes are darker.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You know your way around the St. Jameses’ eyes. That’s…”
“Strange, I know. You guys are weird. My brother and I have the same eye color. You have six siblings, and none of you have the same eye color. Myles’s are light brown. Fletcher’s are blue like your mom’s. Archer’s are silvery-green. Teddy’s are green-silvery.”
“Archer’s and Teddy’s were the same color.”
“No. Archer’s are”—I pause, pressing lips—“Sorry about him. Sometimes I forget that he’s gone.”
We both go silent, staring at each other for a long time. We don’t speak of the loss of his brother, but we can feel it. Archer and I were in the same class. I wasn’t part of the close-knit friends he had, but we were friendly. I liked him. He was selfless, cared a lot about others, and he was funny. I can’t imagine how it was for Zach and his family to lose him. The thought of losing my brother paralyzes me. He’s my rock.
“I’m sorry about Paxton,” he says, breaking the silence between us.
I grab my left arm and rub it with my right hand, trying not to think about Pax, but lately, people keep bringing him into my conversations. He’s a sensitive subject. It’s not that I don’t want to remember him. I do. We have plenty of conversations about what’s best for Matilda, our future, and the flavor of ice cream I should get.
No one knows the Pax who lives in my heart. He’s different from the man they keep bringing up who died seven years ago. My Pax listens to everything I have to say and holds me at night, guarding my sleep.
“It’s been a long time since…you visited Aiden,” I say, trying to stay away from Pax and Archer and anything that reminds me that life is too short. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
Peachy, I want to answer. My daughter exposed my life to a famous influencer who has a huge following. People in Indonesia know about my problems. So sure, totally fine.
I don’t say any of that out loud. No one wants to hear a woman complain about her life.
He looks around then sweeps me with his eyes from head to toe and back. I study my arms. Do I have a smudge on my face? Am I missing a limb?
“Where’s your daughter?”
I am missing that limb.
“She’s with Mom. I dropped her off there so I could have a long conversation with my brother before I ground her for life.”
He smiles. “Come on. You have to admit that what she did is adorable.”
I frown. “Wait, how do you know…?” I gasp, covering my mouth. “You heard her call? Of course, you did. Everyone in the world knows about it. Did you hear the entire conversation?”
He shows me three fingers. “I listened to the three shows when she was featured.”
Three? My kid is dead to me.
Chapter Eleven
Autumn
I close my eyes. My life is over. Wait…“How do you know that’s my kid?”
“Did you listen to the first podcast?”
I nod.
“But did you listen only to Matilda’s call or the entire show?”
“Just her calls.”
“I was in the studio during those calls. Not my proudest moment,” he confesses.
I try to recall the show, but… “You weren’t part of the conversation.”
“I was part of the podcast. My segment was called sex, espresso, sexpresso, or something like that.”
I laugh. “That’s weird. I should go back and listen to it. So, you know about…?”
He checks his watch. “What are your plans for today?”
“Nothing in particular. I have to go grocery shopping and buy a present for Matilda.”
He nods as if understanding that I’m busy and it’s time to say goodbye. As much as I’d love to stay and catch up with him, it’s time for me to go. He’s Aiden’s friend, not mine.
“See you around, St. James.”
As I take a step toward my car, he speaks, “Listen, I don’t have much to do today. Why don’t I drive you? You look like you need someone to talk to, and I’ve been told that I’m a great listener.”
Sixteen-year-old Autumn would be all over his invitation. Confession time, I had a big crush on Zach St. James. Knowing his eye color isn’t a coincidence. I studied the family closely because I wanted to be one of those girls he dated for a weekend. No. I wanted to be the one who he called his girlfriend. He’d invite me to his house, and I’d hang out with his brothers and his little sister. No one was that lucky. He never looked at me in any other way than little Autumn Wickerton, Aiden’s little sister.
I shake my head. “Nah. I’m sure you can spend your time with someone else.”
“I can use you as an excuse to skip work,” he says.
“It’s Saturday.”
“I’m always working. Unless Teddy or my brothers need me.”
“So, you’re a workaholic.”
“Takes one to know one. Maybe you can save me.” He winks at me.
I tilt my head toward my brother’s house. “You should go and see your friend.”
“He’s busy. I can come around another day.”
Something isn’t right. I eye him suspiciously. He’s been absent for years. Twelve, to be exact. Why the sudden interest in my brother or me?
I tap my lips with my index finger. There’s no other reason to be here unless he’s working on making amends or…Matilda. He’s curious about the call or her. It’s definitely my kid.
“Why are you here? You haven’t talked to my brother since graduation day. Why now? It’s because of the call, isn’t it?”
“Matilda reminded me of you. I imagine this little girl with brown curls and a wicked smile trying to solve a mystery or help her mother. If we’re not careful, she might try to take over the world by the time she’s eighteen.”
I smile. “She’s a force.”
“You were a force. It sounds like you’re using your energy for more important things. After the shows, I wanted to check on Aiden and you.”
“He’s okay.”
He looks at me skeptically.
“Really,” I assure him. “Aiden has a solid job with good benefits. A wife who might or might not have helped my child contact the Persy show.”
The corner of his lip stretches.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You’re here out of curiosity. You want to know why Autumn Wickerton doesn’t have her shit together, or…you just want to verify that the Wickertons are still a fucking mess.”
He lifts his palms and waves them. “You’re assuming a lot.”
“I’m right. All you have to do is confirm my suspicions and walk away from the crime scene.”
“I plead the fifth.”
“There’s no reason to exercise your civil rights, Mr. St. James. Unless I have to subpoena you and get you to testify against your friend and my child.”