“From the looks of your stomach, I’d say you’re having plenty.”
Gabriela waved a hand. “Semantics.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “So how’s he doing?”
Zuly sighed, debating how much to tell her. “He’s all right. Just seems really
sad.
That’s not a surprise to me. But there’s something bothering him that he won’t tell me about.”
Patting Zuly’s hand, Gabriela said, “It hurts.”
She blinked back sudden tears. “He won’t talk to me. I could understand if it were something small but...it’s
me.
He used to talk to me about
everything.”
“Give it some time, Z,” Gabriela softly retorted. “All he needs is a little incentive to remember he can trust you. Don’t give up on him yet.”
Sucking in a huge breath, Zuly stood. “I hadn’t planned to.” She ran her fingers through Gabriela’s locks as she started past her and out of the lounge. “Let Miriam know I won’t be missing out on dinner this Sunday.” A thought suddenly occurred to Zuly. “And tell her Fitz will be there too.”
Gabriela smirked. “
Now
will you admit you have naughty clothes? That’s the only way you’re getting Fitz off that damn mountain.”
Zuly grinned. “Believe me when I say he’s going...whether he likes it or not.”
“No.”
“But Fitz–”
“No.”
“Why can’t you just–”
“Zuly,” Fitz cut into her next sentence, staring at her like she was Satan himself. “I’m. Not. Going.”
Frustration built, threatening to spill over. Instead she just sucked in a huge breath. “Fine.” She couldn’t win every battle;
wouldn’t
win every battle. So what was the point of standing there and arguing with him? Zuly couldn’t make him do anything. She’d talked herself up into the stunt she pulled days ago but she realized something vital–the only reason Fitz had continued with their little routine was because he
wanted
to, not because she intimidated him into doing so. Backing away from his front door, she started down the steps.
“Where are you going?” he called after her.
She kept walking. “To dinner.”
His brows lowered. “At my parents’?”
Zuly shrugged. “Where else?”
“Without me?”
Casting him a look over her shoulder as she stopped, she asked, “Do you want me to stay here, Fitz?”
Suddenly he didn’t know how to make eye contact. “What if I said yes?”
“I’d tell you no.”
His head jerked up, and Zuly folded her arms across her chest. “If you wanna play the inbred recluse with possible dead bodies buried on his property, that’s fine. But you’re not dragging me into your own version of
Deliverance
.”
Fitz’s gaze narrowed on her. “Fine.” Then he backed up and slammed the door.
Resisting the urge to do exactly what he wanted her to and stay with him, she let out a heartfelt sigh and started for her SUV. Zuly could drive herself insane worrying about him, or she could get him to realize exactly how deadly loneliness really was.
The days had come and gone in a blur, each morning not enough time together, every night spent sleeplessly, wondering if he’d call her should he need her. There weren’t any huge changes to his demeanor. He was still as closed as ever, only talking about what they’d done as kids or basic media bullshit. But he’d shaved and had brushed his hair. That was a start, right?
Their walks had gotten longer and his smiles a little more frequent, but still, it wasn’t enough. It was like he was punishing himself; like he was ashamed of something. For what or why, Zuly didn’t know, but it was eating at her to find out.
“Auntie Z!”
A slow grin tipped up the edges of her lips as she pulled into the driveway of the modest two-story home Fitz’s parents had owned for the last twenty years or so. Just a few feet away Gabriela and Riley’s youngest girl stood bouncing around, brown eyes huge in her small, heart-shaped face.
Zuly climbed out of her SUV and stooped, waiting for Maria to charge her like she always did. The scent of baby powder teased her nostrils as she spun the three-year-old around, while laughing. “Ah, there’s my big girl.”
Maria nodded, hair flying everywhere. “Yup...where’s my stuff?”
Hands suddenly plucked the little girl from Zuly. “How many times do we have to go over this, child? You greet first, ask for presents later,” Gabriela chastised. “You soften them up
then
go for the kill. Jesus...”
“Why are you teaching this child your satanic ways?” Zuly questioned, grabbing three different containers from the back seat.
“Because if you teach them young, you can get rich later.”
“I’m telling Riley you said that.”
Gabriela shrugged as they walked up the front steps and through the open door. “Go ahead. It was his idea to begin with. He already has a ten-year plan laid out for the boys.”
“Lord on high...”
“I smell more food!” one voice yelled from just beyond the hallway before three sets of
ungodly
sized feet came running.
“Stop running in the house!” Miriam Carrigan shouted after her sons as they all came to a stop in front of Zuly.
“Z.” Cael pressed a hand to his own chest. “My heart, the light of my life, the one I breathe for–”
“The smell of bull is starting to choke us all,” Sullivan stated, shoving Cael away and into the sofa. “Shaddup and sit down.” A face that was so similar to Fitz’s they could’ve been twins turned to Zuly and grinned. “Now that the ugly one is out of the way–”
“You mother–”
“Not in my house, Cael!” Miriam cut her third-youngest son off, shouting from the kitchen.
Cael sat back, rubbing between his brows with his middle finger.
“–you can give all your attention to
me,”
Sullivan finally finished, grinning from ear to ear.
“You only want me for my food,” Zul
y pointed out, holding up the containers of red velvet whoopie pies, homemade mac and cheese and green bean casserole.
“But I want you, and that’s all that matters here.”
One huge hand came down on Sullivan’s head before it abruptly moved him and the rest of his oversized body into the same place Cael was–on the couch and out of view.
“Rude!” he bellowed from beside his brother.
Riley stood there, brow quirked. “I could give you the pleasantries, I could ask for the containers or I could make you want to
give
me
the containers. Which shall it be?”
“Now I remember why I’m pregnant again,” Gabriela murmured before heading for the kitchen, Maria still firmly tucked away in her arms. “Sounds exactly like what he said four months ago.”
Disturbed now from
that
particular imagery, Zuly simply handed the containers over.
“Thank you so very much.” Riley beamed before walking after his wife.
Feeling eyes staring at her, Zuly turned her head to find Cael and Sullivan glaring. “What?” She shrugged. “He’s enigmatic.”
“He’s an asshole,” Cael replied.
“A
huge
asshole,” Sullivan added.
“Stop pouting and come eat.”
Both got to their gigantic booted feet.
“No Fitz tonight, eh?” Cael questioned.
Zuly sucked in a deep breath before letting it out on a sigh. “‘Fraid not, boys.”
Sullivan nodded. “Didn’t think so. Seems we’re gonna have to go for plan B here, Cael.”
“Right you are, Sully.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Zuly tugged on each of their arms as they started past her. “What’s plan B?”
“Beating the shit out of him ‘til he sees reason–” Cael started.
“–and comes to understand that we’re not tolerating the
Deliverance
act anymore,” Sullivan finished
Zuly’s lips quirked as she recalled her words to Fitz just half an hour ago. “You two do realize he’s a SEAL, right? Injured or no, he’ll fuck you both up beyond recognition.”
Sullivan snorted. “Plan B involves a Taser, some duct tape and Justin Bieber. Trust me--we’ll win this battle.”
She was still laughing as she reached the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to watch Miriam bustle around, directing her grandsons on the right way to roll croissants while her husband sat in his favorite corner, eyes glued to the small TV she’d allowed him to have.
Miriam pulled up short, disappointment briefly flashing across her green eyes as she looked over Zuly’s shoulder and came away wanting. Rather than complain, she kissed Zuly’s cheek.
“I told you not to bring anything.”
Zuly locked fingers with the woman who’d been like a second mother to her. “Do I ever listen?” She paused. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t bring the one thing you wanted.”
Miriam’s lips lifted in a sad smile. “He’ll come around.”
“Sure will.” A very familiar rumble came from the doorway. “Might even be sooner than you think.”
Both women pulled up short, Miriam gasping as she turned to find Fitz, cane in hand, standing a few feet away.
He gave a shy grin. “Hiya, Ma.”
***
“Ma, seriously. I had enough to...please stop adding stuff to my plate.” Fitz groaned, sitting back in his chair. He’d debated with himself for only God knew how long about coming before he fired up his truck and made his way to his parents’ home. The look of disappointment in Zuly’s eyes had been enough to haunt him into doing so, and the look of joy in his Mother’s eyes had been enough to make him believe he’d done the right thing. He was home and it felt good.
“You’re too thin.” She cupped his face and looked to Fitz’s dad. “Is he not too thin, Dolan?”
Before his father could even respond, Miriam was piling more food onto Fitz’s plate. “Way too thin...”
“Doesn’t look thin to me,” Cael said, grinning.
Fitz shot him a grateful look. “Thank you.”
“Just funny-looking...period,” his older brother finished.
Sullivan snorted. “Be nice, Cael. You know we were taught to be kind to those less fortunate. Just because he’s ugly doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve some respect.”
“I hate you both,” Fitz murmured.
Cael
tsk
ed. “Ungrateful. We’re not rubbing our stunning beauty in your face, and yet you can’t find it in your heart to say thank you?”
“If you fell off the top of Carrigan Mountain I could say thank you.”
“Boys,” Miriam admonished. “This is the first time my baby has been at this table in months. Leave him be.”