“I don’t wantto do this,” I admit, not surprised at all that Spencer grabs my hand and grips it tight while we walk along the sidewalk, headed for the restaurant. As if he’s afraid I might run away again.
I’m half tempted to do exactly that. Facing my family after I ran out on everyone without a word was cowardly on my part, and I know it. How do I explain to them why I did it? Will they even want an explanation, or will they act like this is just another night where we get together and have dinner? I’m not sure. I never know what to expect when it comes to them.
We may share a lot of the same traits and memories, but no one else in my family understands what it’s like, being me. What I suffered through at the hands of my mother. I fight a lot of demons, and they visit me often in my sleep.
And all of my demons have my mother’s face on them.
“It’s going to be okay.” He stops walking and so do I, watching him as he brings our linked hands up to his mouth and drops a quick kiss on my knuckles. “You ready?”
I shake my head, deciding to be truthful. “Not at all.”
He chuckles. “Too late. We’re here.”
We’re meeting my dad and Whit and Summer for dinner. We’ve been back in New York for only a few days, and Spencer has been telling me since we returned that I need to face them. I let him know I would have this meeting only if we were in a public place where no one could throw a fit, and he agreed. I was referring to my father being the one who would possibly throw a fit, but really?
I was also referring to myself.
Being in public is the only way to ensure I’ll be on my best behavior.
Spencer holds the door open for me once we get to the restaurant and I walk inside first, my heart leaping to my throat when I spot my father, my brother and his wife at a nearby table. I make eye contact with Father first, and the relief I see in his gaze when he spots me is…reassuring.
Like maybe he was actually worried about me after all.
The hostess escorts us to their table and my father is already out of his chair, hauling me into him the moment I get close, hugging me tight. I cling to him, breathing in his familiar scent, my eyes falling closed as past memories of the two of us together hit me, one after another.
Not enough memories between us though. I hit a certain point years ago where it felt like he gave up on me, but maybe it was never that.
Maybe my mother pushed him away. She always did want me to herself, pulling me out of school and taking me to one doctor’s appointment after another. Perhaps that’s why he tried to cling to Carolina, though she eventually ditched him for dance and ran away to London. She ditched all of us. Yet she somehow gets away with it because she has some sort of purpose, thanks to her being such a beautiful dancer.
Ugh I need to get over my envy over Carolina’s situation. At least they all leave her alone mostly. I’m just jealous, that’s all.
“I was so worried when we didn’t know where you were,” Father says before pulling away from me, his hands still gripping my upper arms as he studies me carefully. “We all were.”
I don’t need a guilt trip. I feel bad enough already.
“You look good,” he continues, his concerned gaze scanning me from head to toe. “You have some color in your face. And have you gained weight?”
“Yes.” I nod. “I finally have my appetite back.”
His smile is small, but genuine. “I’m glad.”
Notice how he doesn’t ask why I didn’t have an appetite in the first place. Sometimes I think he’d rather pretend nothing is wrong with me.
It’s easier that way.
We settle into our chairs, my father sitting at the head of the table, Whit and Summer directly across from us. I haven’t seen them since the wedding, and they are golden from the sun that I’m sure they soaked up during their honeymoon. Whit has his arm slung around the back of Summer’s chair, his fingers skimming her arm. Across her back. Along her shoulder. Every chance he gets, he’s touching her, and it’s noticeable.
An affectionate Lancaster is not normal. I know Whit loves her, and it’s become so obvious over the years. It’s nice to see.
I sneak a glance in Spencer’s direction to find him already looking at me and I turn away, embarrassed to be caught. I can only hope we have a relationship like theirs. Where he can’t stop staring at me. Touching me. Maybe I’ll be all he thinks about. I’ll consume him just as much as he consumes me.
A girl can dream.
“Tell us what happened,” Whit says, getting right to the point once the server has taken my and Spencer’s drink order. “Where exactly did you go?”
Spencer sends me a knowing look. He already told Whit where I was, but my father was never informed. I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t blurt it out to Mother if she contacted him. Whit is acting like he didn’t know either to save my father from having his feelings hurt, which is kind of…sweet.
And trust that I would never describe my big brother as sweet.