Full Measures (10 page)

April walked in, her hair picture perfect, and scoffed. “Like I’m going to eat those carbs first thing in the morning?”

I held my tongue, which took every bit of effort I had. She passed me at the kitchen island, wearing skinny jeans and a sweater. She had lost weight, too much for her slight frame. Yeah, it was all the rage to be skin and bones, but the girl needed a cheeseburger. “If you eat carbs now, you have all day to burn them off,” I suggested. She stuck her tongue out at me, and I noticed her righteously awesome pair of new equestrian boots. “Christmas?”

She shrugged, snagged the orange juice from the fridge, and poured herself a glass. I grabbed Gus’s Obi-Wan lunch box and packed him up for the day, trying to remember everything Mom did. “Do you have your folder and homework?” He nodded with his mouth full. “Cool. Finish up and wash that face of yours, you sugary mess.” I pretended to eat his cheek and was rewarded with giggles. We needed more giggles.

While he and April finished prepping their day, I tried to think of what Mom did on Mondays. It was her “get stuff done” day, I knew that much. I pulled The Brain from the shelf, checking the calendar. Hockey today for Gus. I would see Josh.

Pushing the butterflies out of my stomach, I flipped to the back where she kept her lists. Here we go. Thank God Mom was predictable in her schedules. Mondays were groceries, errands, week prep, and bills. Bills.

I turned to the stack of mail that had sat unopened these last weeks. It consumed the kitchen work desk and was dangerously close to playing a game of fifty-two-envelope pickup. This was going to suck. Time to dig in.

I sorted it into magazines, catalogs, ads, bills, and the dozens of personal cards that had arrived in droves. Bills would be the most pressing. I could make out all the amounts if Mom could manage to sign them. I cut open the first bill, a credit card, and scanned it. Five thousand dollars! I had no clue Mom and Dad even had credit card debt.

Wait. The charges were all in the last couple weeks. To…White House Black Market? Nordstrom’s? American Eagle? Restaurants, hotel rooms, they were all adding up. All since Dad died.

“Bus time!” Gus called. I kissed his cheeks, and April sauntered in, with—yep—a new Kate Spade messenger bag across her shoulders.

“I’ll take him to the bus,” she offered.

“I found the bill.” I kept my voice low when I heard Grams coming down the stairs.

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raised above her widened doe eyes.

“April, you’ve spent over five thousand dollars. Mom is going to be pissed.”

“Mom’s not going to notice.” She had the nerve to walk away from me.

“It’s not right, April!” Damn. When had I become all moral, chasing after my sister?

Her gaze narrowed into a scowl. “Nothing is right. Dad is dead, Mom’s a vegetable, and I made myself feel better by shopping. So what? We have the money.”

“You stole.”

She snorted. “Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever!” My retort met the door as she slammed it.

“Later, Ember!” Gus hugged my middle and ran out the door, tugging his hat over his ears.

I grabbed the nearest pillow off the entry hall bench and shoved my face into it, screaming. Everything was shit.

“Coffee, dear?” Grams asked, patting the seat next to her.

I nodded my head and took the cup she offered, sinking into the cushions. She would know what to do about this. “Grams, how long are you staying?”

She paused in reflection. “I need to get home. I have a life, too, you know.”

I nearly dropped my cup. She couldn’t leave. The house wouldn’t function. Mom wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore, what kind of life I’m supposed to have.”

Her delicate arm came around my shoulders, pulling me to her. “Grief, by its very nature, is designed to suck the life out of us because we are so willing to join our dead. It’s supposed to be this hard to figure out what to do next, but it’s that ‘next’ that makes us the living, and not our dead.” Her soft southern accent drawled on every word.

“Thanks, Grams.” What the hell did
that
mean?

She laughed. “Oh, my December, you do what you can with your life, what’s in your power. No more, no less.”

Do what I can. Yeah.

Housework consumed my morning. I tackled the dishes, vacuum, grocery list, laundry, and hockey gear. At the dining room table with Grams, I wrote out all the bills while she penned eloquent thank you notes for the countless casseroles that had fed us.

Apparently, grief meant busy work, and every time I moved my wrist while writing, I saw Josh’s number staring back at me. I really wanted to see him, but I also knew I wasn’t ready for what that meant. I was too much of a hot mess to handle myself, let alone any kind of rebound relationship. Was that what he was? My first instinct said no. Josh and Riley were two separate events in my mind, but they were too closely linked.

Around three o’clock in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. I swallowed back the bile in my throat, reminding myself that Dad was already gone; there was nothing to fear from the door anymore. When I opened it to Riley’s mom, I wished I’d gone with my first instinct.

“Ember!” She embraced me with one arm, lasagna pan in the other. “I was hoping June might be up for some company now? She hasn’t let me see her since the funeral.”

Before I could tell her no, Grams stepped in. “She’s not at her best, Gwen. However, I certainly think you could remedy that. Why don’t you head on up?” She gracefully took the pan. “Thank you for thinking of us.”

Mrs. Barton removed her hat, gloves, and coat, hanging them on the pegs like she had countless times since she’d become Mom’s friend. Her kind smile and casual greeting told me all I needed to know. Riley hadn’t told her. “Let’s see if I can’t get her cleaned up a bit. Oh, and Riley’s just finishing up a phone call and then he’ll be in.”

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

Grams’s astute eyes caught my panic. “Why don’t you put this in the refrigerator, Ember?” she drawled.

I nodded and retreated. What the hell could he want? I was pretty sure we’d left everything in Breckenridge. I slid the lasagna onto the refrigerator shelf and heard his deep, remorseful voice behind me as I shut the door. “Hey, Ember.”

“Riley.” I turned slowly, gripping the granite of the island.

He looked perfect as always: his blond hair was windswept and the blue of his vest matched his eyes. Lying, traitorous, cheating eyes. “We need to talk.”

“Pretty sure we don’t.”

He walked toward me, and I skirted to the right, keeping the island between us.

“I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t know you were coming up.”

“That’s your excuse?” I whispered through clenched teeth. I didn’t need Grams hearing this. She thought Riley was a perfect gentleman.

“I never meant to hurt you!”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to fuck my best friend for a year?” Okay, now I was yelling. The coffee cup sliding across the bar in front of the sink told me Grams had heard it. A quick look confirmed, and warm blood rushed to my cheeks. I’d never sworn in front of her. I was about to get it.

Her eyes darted between Riley and me before settling on a graceful smile. “I think I’ll head on upstairs and check the bathroom. I just heard there’s some trash that needs taking out.” With a pointed look at Riley, but not another word, she left us alone.

“Lower your voice. My mom is upstairs!”

“Good, maybe she’ll find out what an asshole her son is!”

He tore his hands through his hair, messing up his not-so-casually-made casual style. “It was an accident.” I scoffed, but he kept talking. “No, really! The first time you were gone, and we were both lonely, and drunk, and it just happened.”

“And it just
kept
happening?” It was his turn to flush. “Yeah. You know what’s even worse? You could sleep with her, but you couldn’t bear to touch me, no matter how many times I asked you to! God, I must have looked so fucking desperate to you, and the whole time you were screwing Kayla!” I focused on my rage, the accelerated beat of my heart, because if I looked to see where it was cracked and bleeding, I wouldn’t make it through this.

“I . . .” He slammed his hands onto the granite. “Damn it! I wanted to sleep with you, but I couldn’t; it would have ruined my plan—our plan. You’re the girl I’m going to marry. It had to be perfect!”

Going to, my ass.
“And Kayla was perfect? You make zero sense.”

“Kayla was easy, available, and a mistake. You are everything I’ve built my future on. I wasn’t risking that by sleeping with you.”

“Risk what? This isn’t feudal England. Sex doesn’t ruin a girl for marriage any more than it’s ruined you.”

He gripped the countertop, his knuckles turning white. “We agreed to wait until marriage.”

“You!
You
were going to wait! I never wanted to!”

“Is that what this is about? Because I’ll take you upstairs right now if that makes you happy.” He threw out his arm in the direction of the staircase.

“If you think I’d let you near me—” The phone rang. Its shrill tone pulled me out of the downward spiral my emotions were taking. “Saved by the bell,” I muttered and picked up. “Hello?”

“June Howard?” Oh, crap. I knew that voice. Mrs. Angelo from the attendance office at the high school.

I put on my best June Howard impression. “Yes.” Mom was in no condition to talk, and I was in no mood to explain the situation to the freaking school. Things were a mess enough already.

“Ma’am, this is Mrs. Angelo from Cheyenne Mountain High School.”

“Mrs. Angelo, good afternoon!”

“I’m so sorry to bother you at this time, but will April be returning to us this semester?”

“I’m sorry?” Crap, my impression might have slipped there.

“We haven’t seen April back yet. Is she ready to return? I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. We’re just trying to keep track of her.” Sympathy dripped from her voice.

Crap. Crap. Craptastic crap. “Absolutely, I’m so sorry. Excuse her for me, would you? I’ll make sure she’s ready tomorrow.” April was going to fry for this one.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Howard. Have a nice day.”

The click sounded the end of the call, and I put the phone back on its charging deck. Riley was still there, staring, and just like that, the fight drained out of me. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Riley. We’re done.”

“I love you, Ember.” Was that panic crawling into his eyes?

“You love yourself. Maybe you loved me when we started dating, but something warped along the way, and you know it’s true. If you love me, you never would have slept with Kayla.”

“How many times can I say I’m sorry?”

“You’re not sorry you did it. You’re sorry you got caught.”

“Please don’t end this.” He lunged toward me, and I evaded. “Please. Our brothers are on the same team, our moms are friends. We have a plan, Ember. Just let me get it back on track. I’m so sorry. I can make this up to you.”

I threw up my hands. “Stop. Stop chasing, stop apologizing, just stop . . . being.”

His gaze narrowed, focused on my exposed forearm. “What the hell is that?”

I flicked my wrist inward and saw the black marks he meant. “Josh’s number.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic. We have a fight and you hop right to the next guy. I never really pegged you for a whore.” Hello, Mr. Hyde.

There must have been parts of me that still loved him, because they shattered in that moment, leaving me naked, bare, cold. “Now we’re definitely done. You can leave.”

His face relaxed, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Dr. Jekyll was back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I just saw those numbers . . . I know that would never happen with you and Josh.” He shook his head with a patronizing smile. “You’re not even his type, too timid. It’s like for hockey or something, right?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Too timid for Josh? “And if it’s not?” I needed to hurt him, to make him feel just an ounce of the devastation wrecking me. “What if he wrote it there after he spent the night with me in Breck?”

His eyes flew wide for a second before they narrowed into a glare, bringing back Mr. Hyde. “Tell me you didn’t fuck him! Tell me that’s not how you spent Friday night!”

“The night I caught you with Kayla? You’re such a hypocrite, Riley!” I blinked back the threatening tears. “Three years! I gave you three years! I loved you, cared for you, stood by you! I gave up every dream I had and let you plan out our lives by your insane notions that we had to be a perfect couple for you to go into politics in like ten freaking years! For what? To have you doing Kayla on the side for a year of it?” This time
my
hands slammed into the granite, pain destroying my fingers and skirting up my forearms.

The doorbell rang.

“What the hell is this? Grand Central Station?” I snapped. He looked at me like I’d lost it, and maybe I had. “Come in!” I didn’t care that Grams might have heard me not greet a guest, or that Mom was upstairs doing whatever it was she did lately.

Six feet and a granite counter separated me from Riley, who I had planned to spend the rest of my life with, but it may as well have been two miles, or two million miles. “Babe, I love you. I know we can fight for this. I won’t see her again, I swear. Once we get up to Boulder, everything will return to normal, I know it. I’m the only one for you.” His gaze ran past me, and he stepped back reflexively before glaring. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s a little early for hockey.”

Josh came up beside me, put an Ember-labeled Starbucks down on the counter, and met my gaze, melting my tension instantly. My posture relaxed as he unzipped his black ski coat, revealing jeans that hugged low on his sculpted hips and a soft gray Henley. He couldn’t have been more different from Riley’s carefully chosen polo. “I’m not just here for hockey.”

“Well, you’re not fucking welcome to anything else in this house,” Riley fired back, coming around the island. “It’s not like you actually want her! I remember the girls you went after in school, and Ember isn’t on that level.”

Not on that level? What the hell? The man I’d thought was the love of my life didn’t think I was enough to merit Josh Walker’s attention. He thought so little of me. How had I never noticed it before?