Stepbrother Dearest(37)

“You must be Sarah’s daughter. You two look like twins.”

I separated from him suddenly and held out my clammy hand. “Yes…hi, I’m Greta.”

She didn’t take it. Instead, she smiled sympathetically and hugged me. “I’m Chelsea. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your stepfather.” Her hair smelled as I expected it would, a clean, delicate scent to match her apparently sweet personality.

“Thank you,” I said.

The tension in the air was palpable as the three of us just stood there in awkward silence.

Clara walked in carrying a pot roast that she’d garnished with asparagus spears on an oval plate. I used the opportunity to escape from the situation and offered to help her bring in the rest of the items, leaving Elec and Chelsea standing there.

My nervous hands fumbled with the silverware Clara tasked me with gathering from the drawer in the kitchen. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before reentering the dining room.

Greg was talking while I walked around distributing the flatware. A case of the butterfingers got me good as forks and spoons kept slipping out of my trepidatious hands.

With nothing left to do, I then sat down across from where Elec and Chelsea were sitting. My eyes stayed glued to the reflection of my face on my plate.

“So, how did you kids meet?” he asked them.

I glanced up.

Chelsea smiled and looked adoringly over at Elec. “We both work at the youth center. I head up the after school program, and Elec is a counselor. We started off as friends. I really admired how good he was with the kids. They all love him.” She placed her hand on his. “Now, I do, too.”

I could see from the corner of my eye that she leaned in and kissed him. The black dress I was wearing suddenly felt like it was suffocating me.

“That’s very sweet,” Clara said.

“Elec, how is Pilar taking this?” Greg asked.

“She’s not doing well,” he said abruptly.

I looked up upon hearing him speak. He hadn’t spoken the entire time since saying my name.

Chelsea squeezed his hand. “We tried to get her to come, but she didn’t think she could handle it.”

We.

She was close to his mother.

This was definitely serious.

“Well, it’s better off then that she stayed back,” Clara said.

Probably uncomfortable at the mention of Pilar, my mother took a long sip of her wine. She knew she was the number one reason for Pilar not showing up today.

Chelsea turned to me. “Where do you live, Greta?”

“I live in New York City, actually. I just came into town a couple of days ago.”

“That must be exciting. I’ve always wanted to visit.” She turned to Elec. “Maybe we could visit her sometime? We’d have a place to stay.”

He nodded his head once, looking extremely uncomfortable as he played with his food. At one point, I could feel his eyes on me. When I turned to look at him to confirm it, our eyes met for a quick second before he shifted his gaze back down to his plate.

“Elec never told me he had a stepsister,” Chelsea said.

He never mentioned me.

My mother spoke up for the first time. “Elec only lived with us for a short time back when they were teenagers.” She looked at me. “The two of you didn’t get along too well back then.”

Mom knew nothing about what really happened between Elec and me. So, from her perspective, that statement was an accurate one.

Elec’s deep raspy voice cut right through me. “Is that true, Greta?”

I dropped my fork. “Is what true?”

“That we didn’t get along?”

Surely, the hidden meaning in his question was meant for only me to understand. I wasn’t sure why he was taunting me in the midst of what was already an uncomfortable situation.

“We had our moments.”

His eyes seared into mine, and his voice lowered. “Yeah, we did.”

Suddenly, I was burning up.

His mouth spread into a smile. “What was it you used to call me?”

“What do you mean?”

“‘Stepbrother dearest,’ was it? Because of my glowing personality?” He turned to Chelsea. “I was a miserable fuck back then.”

A miserable “fuck.” He didn’t mean it that way, but I couldn’t help where my head went with that.

“How did you know about that nickname?” I asked.

He smirked.

I smiled. “Oh, right. You used to eavesdrop on me.”

“Sounds like those were some fun times,” Chelsea said as she looked innocently back and forth between Elec and me.

“They were,” he said, glaring at me with a look that was hardly innocent.



***



Chelsea and I helped Clara bring the dishes into the kitchen. In forty minutes, we were scheduled to be at the funeral home for the viewing hours.