“We’re trying to hide his condition,” Mother says in a brittle voice. “Since he refuses to get married or have children, people will eventually find out and the shareholders will kick him out. Oh, you don’t know how much I’ve suffered.”
“Shut up, Mother,” I say calmly.
“Excuse me?”
“Shut the fuck up, Mother.” I’m louder now, unhinged by all the emotions that have been running rampant in me. “Stop turning everything about you when Zach was the one who had an accident. This is about him, not you, not me. Him. So stop making it about you!”
Her wails turn up in volume and the only reason I’m not going full on aggressive mode on her drama queen antics is because I can’t keep my attention away from Zach.
My brother watches us like we’re the dullest animals in a zoo.
Now I recognize the emptiness in his gaze. It’s complete and utter apathy, as if being alive is the most boring thing he’s ever had to do.
My hand fists on the spoon. “Are you struggling?”
He meets my gaze. “With what?”
“Anything? Everything?”
“I’ve never been better, but Mother likes to act in such…an overly expressive way.”
Tell me about it.
“I’m just looking out for you,” she sobs while Nicole holds her shoulder. “I’m doing my best to protect the family name and company.”
“Which I’m doing an excellent job at by doubling its profit,” Zach says.
“But if they find out…”
“They won’t, Mother. You’re making an event out of nothing.”
Something she likes to do, but I keep those words to myself out of fear that she’ll burst into another wave of tears.
The rest of the dinner is strained to say the least. Mostly because Zach’s lack of empathy makes him not only stoic but also kind of evil. His thoughts, principles, and perspectives have taken a one hundred eighty-degree dive and he’s now a true nihilist.
Nothing is important and everything is senseless and useless.
By the end of the night, he says he’ll drive my drunk mother home.
She had too much wine, no surprise there, and she’s the type who bursts into tears when drunk. No surprise there either.
“Thank you, Nicole.” She pulls her into a long hug. “Thank you for bringing my baby home.”
“I’m neither back nor am I your baby.” I resist the urge to inform everyone that I’m the one who brought Nicole back, not the other way around.
But then again, if it weren’t for the fucker, whom Kyle informed me that he can’t take a piss without crying like a whore, I wouldn’t have returned. I wouldn’t have learned about my brother’s condition.
So I guess Nicole did bring me back.
That doesn’t mean I’m less pissed off at her.
“You can hate me all you want, but you’ll always be my baby.” She releases Nicole to grant me one of her rare hugs. One I don’t return. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a good mother, Danny. I’m sorry I never grew a backbone, but if you give me a chance, I’ll try.”
I say nothing, and she eventually lets me go and sways on her feet, her tears cascading down her face. Zach grabs her by the arm and nods at me. “If you intend to stay, let me know.”
“I don’t. And Zach?”
“Yes?”
“You hated me back then.”
“Back when?”
“When I left. Why?”
“I suppose I disliked the fact that you were running away. You’re not a coward, Daniel. But you acted like one, and that probably grated on my nerves.”
“Past tense?”
He smiles a little, then taps the side of his head. “The benefit of this brain is that I couldn’t care less anymore.”
Then he drags my mother who’s blabbering about her sons and herself and how much she regrets everything.
As soon as the driver speeds out, I want to hit something.
Anything.
And just right then, Nicole comes in front of me, in her white dress and a little smile. “I’m glad you guys could finally talk.”
“That makes one of us.”
I turn around and head to the kitchen. One of the tea monsters, the gardener, sees my face and bolts out with a bow.
Good choice because I’m contemplating drowning him in his tea.
I swing the cupboard open and wrench out a bottle of whiskey, the expensive type, the one that will get me drunk slower but deeper.
Nicole comes to my side while I’m popping the bottle open. Or trying to, anyway; the thing is stuck as if mocking me as well.
“Are you mad?” she asks cautiously.
“Am I mad? Oh, let me see. You invited my mother and brother over when I’m barely on speaking terms with them and forgot to mention that detail. On a scale of zero to ten, I’m one hundred at being mad.”
“You had to speak to them eventually.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“So you’re okay with not knowing about your brother’s condition?”
“He’s fine. He’s not paralyzed or incapacitated. Stop channeling the Nora Sterling in you and making this into a big fucking drama that it isn’t.” I forcibly pop the bottle and drink straight from it, dousing my throat with burning liquor.
“Well, I’m sorry that I tried to bring you close to your family.”
“Apology accepted.”
She glares, then crosses her arms over her chest. “You know what? Screw you, Daniel. I’m retracting that apology, because I know I did the right thing and you would know it, too, if you weren’t too busy being a dick.”
“The right thing? Since when are you a saint, Nicole? You like using people, so let’s hear it. What did you intend to gain from this? My mother’s favor? My brother’s attention? Did you put all that effort into the food so that he’d decide to keep you as his warm hole?”
The sound comes first, loud and deafening in the silence of the house. Then the sting of her palm against my cheek follows. There’s an unnatural shine in her eyes, but the tears don’t escape. “I’m no one’s warm hole, including yours. And I only put in all that effort for you. To make you happy as you made me yesterday by bringing Uncle Henry, but apparently, I made a mistake. I always make mistakes when it comes to you and it’s time I learn to not make them anymore.”
And then she strides out of the kitchen like a storm.
I slowly close my eyes and take a sip of the whiskey, knowing full well that I screwed it all up.
Not that it wasn’t meant to be screwed eventually.
31
NICOLE
I slam the door to the bedroom shut, walk away from it, then storm toward it again.
My hand hesitates on the handle before I release it with a loud puff.
The lava that’s been building in my bloodstream is now roaring to the surface and I can no longer trap it inside.
I can no longer pretend that I can keep on doing this and feel nothing.
It’s only been me, ever since I first saw Daniel when we were damn kids. Ever since I envied him for being mischievously free when I couldn’t dream of it.