It almost took everything I had not to gasp out loud from the sudden caress. “It’ll take my mind off everything else,” he continued and dropped his arm. For a split second I caught myself wanting him to do it again then pushed the thought away. Pretending it didn’t exist.
Momentarily stunned, I took a breath and regained my composure. “I’ll be good as long as I can find a cheaper place to live. Or a better paying job.” I gave him a weak smile.
“What’s going on? Are you in trouble?” said Andrea, my step-mom, as eased in between us before Devan could reply. I hadn’t seen her right behind me at the table, but she had heard what I said.
“Nothing… just…” this was not what I wanted to have happen. I didn’t want to air all my adult failures today. I just wanted to come here, relax, drink and forget about my shitty life for one day.
“I’m having some trouble making my rent, but I’ve got a plan and everything will be fine,” I lied. I hated lying but I didn’t need anyone worrying about me.
Andrea narrowed her eyes at me. She knew I was full of shit, trying to make it seem like I had everything under control when in reality I was drowning. She looked to Devan and back to me and sighed. “You kids and your grown-up problems. What am I going to do with you?”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Devan said. “We can handle our own affairs. We’ll both get everything figured out. You know I don’t give up that easily.” Devan smiled easily, but I could see the doubt, as clear as day, all over his face.
“Let me talk to your father,” Andrea said to me. “I’ll see what we can do to help out.”
And before I could say anything, she was walking away. Devan laughed at the expression on my face.
“You know they’re helper types,” he said, “but in some ways it’s nice; she’ll have a cheaper apartment lined up for you by the end of the afternoon, probably.”
“Maybe… I just hope it’s not their spare bedroom.” We both laughed. It was nice to have a moment of levity in the situation. “Can you imagine?”
“Yeah, no… no I can’t.”
I smiled at Devan. There was something about talking to him that made everything seem like, at least for a little while, things would be okay.
I held out my newly refilled glass to Devan. “Here’s to solving all of our grown-up problems,” I said.
“Cheers!” he replied and clinked. We drained our glasses and rejoined the main mass of people on the patio. Devan put a protective hand on my lower back as we walked up the steps, and I tried hard not to think about how close his fingers were to the swell of my butt.
God, I needed to get laid again and quick, I thought.
At the top, Monique was stood talking to Suzanne and Andrea. They all looked over at me at the same time, causing a flush of pink to fill my cheeks.
“The meddling has begun,” I said to Devan, nudging him and nodding my head in the direction of the three women.
4
Devan
The brunch with Monique was worse than I’d imagined. I wanted the day to end, but even then, once we were back home it’d be the same; she would be cold and distant. I felt trapped, unable to find my way out of the darkness. At least here I had others to talk to.
Monique sat next to me, and I could feel the anger coming off of her like an unrelenting heat wave. I watched the rest of the family around the table for reactions, but either they didn’t notice that things were more strained between us, or they were so used to it that it didn’t register.
“Can you pass the salt?” I asked Monique who sat on my right side. She kept her head down and focused on cutting her pork tenderloin into minuscule pieces, the edge of the knife scraping along the surface the plate. She wasn’t even eating any of it. “Monique?” I asked again, my patience wearing thin. The muscles in my face tensed up; she had to stop this shit. I was hurting, too.
A gentle tap on my left arm brought me to my senses. “Here,” Mila said, holding out a saltshaker, her warm chocolate eyes wide with sympathy.
I felt so alone with my thoughts, with the pressure to make Monique happy, but at least my baby stepsister, Mila, was there to take my mind off everything else. Unlike Monique, she always had a smile for me. Mila was able to lift my mood no matter what. It was like her super power or something, and I was grateful to have that right now.
I turned my body away from Monique - two can play at that game, I thought; determined not to let her spoil the rest of my night.
Distracted, my eyes wandered up Mila’s milky, almost translucent, outstretched arm and skirted their way to her low-cut, curvy cleavage. Sometimes I thought it was both a curse and a blessing being so tall, having the ability to see down women’s tops.