I burst out laughing. Uncle George has five children with a variety of women, so Monty’s description is spot on.
We gossip about everything and nothing while sipping on our drinks, Summer sticking with berry-infused water. We order salads for lunch and listen to Summer talk about her honeymoon with my brother, leaving out all of the sexual bits despite Monty whining how he wants all the details.
“I do not want to hear her describe what my brother does to her in bed,” I say.
“You don’t have to! She can describe what he does to her against a wall. Or in the shower,” Monty argues.
The very last thing I want to know.
“You’re hopeless,” I tell him.
“You love it,” he counters.
When he excuses himself to use the bathroom after sucking down three alcoholic drinks in quick succession, Summer starts the real conversation.
“Tell me how you and Spencer got back together,” she demands, her eyes dancing.
I explain the situation, being truthful with her, but not going into too much detail since Monty will return to the table at any second. When I’m done, she’s watching me with a glow in her gaze and her lips curved upward.
“You two were always perfect for each other.”
“Like you and my brother?”
“Not nearly as toxic, but yes.” Summer waves a dismissive hand.
“I don’t know. I’ve treated him terribly for years.” I remember catching Whit referring to Summer as his whore once, and how appalled I was by that.
Then I recall how Spencer called me his whore at the house in California, and everything inside me goes warm and tingly.
“I think it’s the way Lancasters show they care about someone,” Summer admits, her voice soft. “You verbally abuse and push away those you love the most.”
I think of my mother, and her sort of abuse. She didn’t want to just push me away. She wanted me out of her life completely, which makes no sense when you think about it.
How was she going to get all of the attention my so-called illnesses got her if I was dead? Though she could play up the grieving mother part, that would’ve lasted her only so long…
“Whit told me he spoke with Spencer a few days ago, and that Spence seems the happiest he’s ever seen him,” Summer continues. “I’m sure that’s because of you.”
My heart feels as if it just expanded. “That’s sweet.”
“Are you happy with him? Truly?” She leans in closer, her assessing gaze snagging on mine. “I worry about you sometimes.”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown.
“That you might be searching for something that’s impossible to find.” Her smile is regal, her gaze lifting, and I realize Monty is approaching the table. “You took forever.”
“I had to piss for five minutes straight.” Monty settles into his chair, dumping his napkin in his lap. “Did the server come back? I want to order another one.”
“Please tell me you didn’t drive here,” I say.
“I don’tdrive. I have adriver,” Monty stresses. “God, get it together, Sylvie. You know how I live. How you live.”
“I envy the both of you being able to drink.” Summer runs her hand over her swelling belly. “Little miss here won’t let me do anything.”
“A girl,” I say with a sigh. “I love that. Do you have a name picked out yet?”
Summer slowly shakes her head, her gaze on her stomach and nowhere else. “Too many options. I can’t make up my mind, and Whit is no help. He tells me it doesn’t matter what we name her, as long as I’m happy with it.”
“My brother actually said that?” I’m stunned. His favorite thing is getting his way.