I have cousins too.
With a grin tugging at my lips, I exit the bathroom and walk down the hall toward the sound of Uncle Charles’s voice in the dining room. He’s sitting at the head of the table. Linda sits at the other end. Kristopher sits to his right and Karen sits to her brother’s right. Uncle Charles motions to the seat at his left for me to take.
“Join us, boy.”
I sit down and eye the mountains of food hungrily. The trip here, I’d rummaged through some bags and found snacks to eat. This is the first time I’ve seen a home-cooked meal since before Mom died since I could no longer afford groceries once she was gone.
Kristopher watches me with a sneer. His blue eyes are hard and assessing. His hair is less blond than his sister’s and leans toward golden brown instead.
“Karen, will you lead us in prayer?” Uncle Charles says.
Her sweet, melodic voice fills the air. I don’t pay much attention to what she says, just how she says it. The way her lips move as she says each syllable. I’m infatuated by her mouth. Do all girls’ lips look like that? It’s been so long since I’ve seen a girl my age. I only remember my mother’s lips.
“Amen,” she says, her lashes fluttering open. Her gaze instantly finds mine.
I can’t help but grin at her. Her cheeks blaze crimson and she looks down at her plate. When I feel fury rippling my way, I jerk my head toward my uncle. He’s busy scooping roast onto his plate. It’s Kristopher’s glare searing into me. If his jaw clenches any more, he might break a few teeth.
“Tomorrow,” Uncle Charles says as he passes me the big spoon for the roasting dish in front of him, “I’ll begin your teaching. You’ll study alongside with Kristopher.”
“And Karen?” I ask, darting my eyes her way.
“No,” Uncle Charles says sharply. “Karen learns how to be a good wife from Linda.”
Linda doesn’t speak or look up. Simply stares at her plate.
“A good wife? Does that mean you’ll teach me how to be a good husband?”
“And father,” Uncle Charles rumbles. “A good man needs to be both.”
“I want to be a good man,” I say eagerly. Mom will be so proud.
“If only my son showed such eagerness.” Uncle Charles shoots a hard glare at Kristopher, who flinches.
“I want to be a good man too,” Kristopher mutters unconvincingly.
“I’m going to be a wonderful wife,” Karen chirps. “I cooked this meal. I can get stains out of shirts. I’m obedient.”
She beams with pride.
“You cooked this meal?” The heaping plateful of roast is too much of a temptation to ignore. I practically inhale all of it before telling her through a mouthful of food, “It’s amazing.”
Pop!
Uncle Charles slaps me on the back of the head. “You’re not in a barn, boy,” he growls. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
That fucking hurt.
I quickly chew it and swallow it down. “Sorry, sir.”
He nods. “Many lessons need to be learned, but you will learn them, boy. I’ll treat you as I treat my son because you’re Taylee’s. That’s what family does.”
Tears prickle at my eyes.
What a dream.
I can’t believe it’s real.
A family.
Finally.
* * *
Kristopher
I exit the bathroom after a hot shower, dressed in my flannel pajamas for bed, and can’t help but eye Karen’s door. Sometimes we meet in passing. It’s our little cheat Pa doesn’t know about. A stolen smile or word here and there. I’m not supposed to see her in her nightgown, but on occasion I have, and I think she looks incredibly beautiful.
Will Maude be beautiful in her nightgown too?
I try to imagine Maude coming to join me in our marital bed, wearing one of Karen’s gowns, but I can’t seem to make the thoughts turn from blond hair to red.
Shaking my head, I rush to my bedroom and push inside. The moment I’m in my sanctuary, I gape at Luke. He’s stretched out in his white underwear, all his pale skin and bones on display. His body is big, just emaciated. Fed properly, he’ll be every bit a man that Pa is. Envy makes my blood boil.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, carefully closing the door behind me as to not make a sound.
He sits up on his elbows. The action makes his stomach concave and his ribs protrude. “Getting ready for bed.”
“Where are your pajamas?”
“I don’t have any.”
“I do,” I grunt, storming over to my dresser. I pull out a pair and toss them to him. “There. Put these on.”
“I always sleep like this,” Luke tells me, making no move to put on the clothes.
“It’s inappropriate.”
“Why?” He cocks his head to the side, his brows furrowing.
“Because if Karen were to see…” I trail off, fury rising up inside me. It makes me want to punch him again. For once, I understand Pa’s rules. I don’t want her to see him in just his underwear. That should be only something she sees of her husband.
“Karen’s not allowed in here, remember?”
“If Pa came in here, you’d be sent to the white room.” I shudder at the thought. I’m still wondering why I wasn’t sent back. Maybe having Luke here will prove to be a distraction.
“The white room? What’s that?”
“It’s where we go to contemplate our bad behavior and pray.”
“Sounds peaceful,” Luke says with a shrug.
“It’s not peaceful,” I snap. “It’s maddening.”
He must see something in my gaze that makes him understand because he dresses in the pajamas that are too large for him. Once he’s dressed, he lies on his side to face me as I crawl into my bed.
“I’m glad I’m here,” he says in a dreamy voice. “I like having cousins.” He flashes me a wide, dimpled grin. “Especially a pretty one.”
The blood in my veins turns to ice. “Don’t talk about Karen.”
“I’m not being rude,” he argues, still smiling, his brown eyes flashing. “Just stating facts.”
“She is pretty,” I admit, “but don’t ever let Pa hear you say that.”
He makes a motion of zipping his lips. “Our secret.”
A small chuckle escapes me. He’s a little silly, which we don’t see much of around here. My laughter dies when I think about his lessons beginning tomorrow. I wonder how long it’ll take for Pa to whip that silliness out of him.
Creak.
We both snap our heads to the door. I’m expecting to see Pa, ready for me to finish my punishment. Instead, I see Karen.
No.
I’m so stunned at seeing her, I’m at a loss for words.
She’s not allowed in here.
“Hey,” Luke greets.
Her face turns pink. “Hey.”
“Go to bed,” I grit out, sitting up. “Now.”
“Don’t be mean,” she says with a huff.
“You’ll get into trouble.” I hate how my voice cracks and weakens.