Renee stood in front of her closet mirrors, where she’d been practicing her turns for the last hour. She’d been chosen for the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy in the upcoming performance of the Nutcracker, and scouts were coming all the way from New York to watch her. She was nervous, but Samantha had no doubt she’d do great. Renee was the most graceful person Samantha had ever seen in her life. She was strong, athletic, and moved so easily it was as though it took no effort at all. Just like all the rest of the Montgomerys. Physically fit, totally beautiful, and kind… All except Tristan.
“Where’s Steven?” Renee asked, pulling Samantha’s attention back to the mirrors. Renee was standing up on her toes, going up and down in releve so quickly it almost made Samantha sick.
She pulled herself up to sit, then stretched her oversized sweater over her knees. “Palm Springs,” she answered. “He’s playing golf with his grandparents.”
Renee prepped for another turn, then pushed off before answering. “Fun,” she said sarcastically.
Samantha shrugged. “Yeah, well he’s probably having more fun than we are at the moment.” She paused to look in the mirror, pushed herself off the bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. She walked across the room googling the number for Vincenzo’s before turning around. “I’m hungry. Do you want to order pizza—” But before she could finish the question, the sound of Mrs. Montgomery’s scream caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise.
“What the heck?” Renee yelled. She flung open her bedroom door and ran down the stairs, Samantha on her heels, running down after her friend. Her stomach felt like cement, her heart hammering in her chest.
They stopped in their tracks at the entrance to the kitchen. Renee’s mom was still screaming, though now it was mixed with laughter and squeals—because Tristan Montgomery held her in his arms and was spinning her in circles.
“Tristan Montgomery! You put me down right this instant! I mean it!” She hit him on the shoulder with her oven mitt, and he finally lowered her to the ground. His smile was so wide it was almost infectious. She quickly pulled him to her chest, throwing her arms around his neck and gripping him so hard you’d think he’d come back from the dead. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow,” she whispered. Her voice thick with emotion. “I thought you had a game tonight?”
He grinned, then stepped backward and pointed to his walking boot. “I got an early ticket.”
Mrs. Montgomery covered her mouth, pulling in a quick gasp before meeting his eyes again. “Tristan! What happened?”
He only shrugged, then hobbled over to lean against the counter. “It’s football, Ma. These things happen.”
It was odd being witness to this interaction. Because in all the time she’d spent with the Montgomerys, Samantha had never seen Mrs. M so emotional. She wasn’t crying, but she looked as though she was trying hard not to. Tristan had been hurt like this so many times it was impossible to keep track of. From the look on Mrs. M’s face. It was as though it had happened for the first time. Even from ten feet away, being there, watching this reunion between mother and son felt like an invasion of privacy. Witnessing a special bond that was only theirs to hold… But she couldn’t make herself look away.
Mrs. Montgomery turned toward Renee and Samantha, who had gone unnoticed until this point, and pointed to Tristan’s leg. “And this is why I’ve always preferred ballet.”
They all laughed, except for Samantha, because she was still in shock. This was her first time seeing Tristan in months, and for some reason, he looked different. The sight of him caused an ache in her chest to burn so painfully it was as though it had never stopped. She told herself it was because she was still angry, but it was an anger she’d never felt before. It made her chest tight and her stomach clench as though she was going to throw up.
He turned to her, watching her as though he’d lost something in her face. Searching her eyes, without the barest apology. It was odd. She’d looked people in the eye before, but never once had she felt so naked. Because he seemed to look deeper than everyone else, everyone combined, and she turned away, sure everyone could read their history on her face. But Tristan carried on as though none of what she’d experienced affected him at all.
“Sis,” he said, resting his back on the counter.
Renee grinned, then pushed off her spot in the doorway and walked toward him. “Can’t you walk into a room like a normal person? Do you always have to cause such a scene?”