“We both made a mistake.” I stared straight ahead, though my face got hot.
“No need to remind me every chance you get.”
“If you weren’t everywhere I go, I wouldn’t.”
“You keep it up and you won’t have to worry about it anymore. Your brothers won’t want anything to do with you.”
They already didn’t. Because I couldn’t keep my mouth closed. Couldn’t stop lashing out.
“What do you want me to do?”
“A starting point would be getting through one meal without insulting the shit out of somebody. C’mon, Marlow. Holt announcing his engagement was a softball. All you had to do was say congratulations. You didn’t even have to smile. You could’ve done that grimace thing you’re so good at. Everyone would have considered it a win.”
I scowled.
“No. That’s not the look I’m talking about.” He cocked his head to the side, and my frown deepened. “Hmm. Getting closer.”
“How the hell can anyone possibly stand more than three minutes with you?”
“I could say the same of you.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Because I like Baker and Holt, I’m going to tell you how to fix it.”
“Can’t wait to hear this,” I said under my breath.
“You really want to help them? Don’t say it. Show them. Go to the garage ready to work. Volunteer for whatever they need done.”
No way would that work.
“That’s your grand plan?”
“It’s a first step. When you get there, you can’t complain. Can’t insult them. Tell them you had a shitty day, so you didn’t have a great reaction to their news tonight. That you’re happy for them.”
“Basically become someone else.”
“Be the person you used to be.”
I dug a finger into his arm. “I was never that person. You act like I was Miss Sunshine.”
“The times I saw you, it seemed like you were.” He remained casual while I continued to get worked up.
“No way.”
“When’s the last time you really smiled?”
I knew the exact second. Thinking about it made my knees weak.
“Not because of you.”
He winced, but quickly recovered. “Your dad misses Blake.”
“Why don’t you share something personal I can guilt trip you about?” I suggested.
I was doing the best I could. No one seemed to understand I’d lost my life but had to keep living. What was I supposed to do with that?
He held up both his hands. “I tried. I swear I did,” he said to the sky.
“You’ve done your good deed for the day. Run along now.” I flicked my wrist in a shoo motion.
He shook his head, blew out what was most probably a frustrated breath, and for a moment, I felt my anger shift to pain. I hated how everyone did that around me. At me. Because of me.
There was a time when Patrick looked at me without frustration. A time when there was softness in his expression. But not anymore. Now disappointment reigned. That along with his own anger as he said, “You grew up with no influence at all from your mother. So how the hell did you end up just like her?”
Chapter Four
Patrick
What was I thinking?
The second she’d hit the door of Dino’s, I was after her. And to what end? She wasn’t my friend. Had been a royal bitch to me, if I were completely honest. Why did I care if she pissed away her family?
Because I’d seen a rare moment of vulnerability. Been behind that thick wall she had between her and the rest of the world. Maybe she wasn’t the easygoing, smiley type like her brothers and Mr. Dixon. But most of all, she hurt and didn’t know how to cope.
I didn’t want her to push the people who loved her past the point of no return. She needed them, although it appeared she didn’t seem to think so.
But what she’d done? Volunteering to work for Holt? That meant something. I just didn’t know what.
“Going after her only encourages her,” Andrew said as we strolled down the sidewalk.
“I used to think she was just lashing out. But she really goes below the belt,” Trish said as she threaded her arm through her husband’s while he pushed Ella in her stroller.
“Glutton for punishment.” I kicked at a smashed water bottle on the sidewalk, then thought better of it and picked it up, depositing it in a trash can.
“I’m trying not to take her shots personal, but it’s getting harder and harder.”
“What she did, with your mother, it was awful,” Trish said quietly. “That doesn’t mean we should just give up on her.”
“I don’t want to, but what the hell do we do?”
“I told her to show up at the garage and play nice,” I said.
“How’d that go over?” Andrew asked wryly.
“Worse than you imagine.”
“No two ways about it, this sucks. But what it’s doing to Dad? As if dealing with that witch wasn’t enough, now Marlow’s adding to the shit pile.”
“He’s not fragile,” Trish said.
Yet another woman who defended the men she cared about, even her father-in-law.
“Can you do me a favor?” She turned those kind eyes on me. Like I could say no to Trish. I owed her until kingdom come.
“Name it.”
“You know Cricket,” she started, glancing at Andrew before returning her gaze to me. “I—Could you check into her?”
“I’m a lawyer not a detective,” I said with a smile.
“But you have people who dig into things.”
“You giving away trade secrets?” I nudged Andrew and reached around him, tugging on Trish’s ponytail. “I’ll check into it. Am I looking for anything specific?”
“No.” Her mouth flattened. “I just think whatever trouble she’s been in may be following her.”
“What about that cop who comes by the food truck? Have you talked to him?” I asked.
“She sprinted the first time he showed up. And every time he’s at the window, she finds some way to hide.”
“The girl is skittish for sure.”
“She needs help. I recognize it,” Trish insisted.
“We’ll see what we can dig up. She still living at the shelter?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll get my guy on it.”
“You’re the best.” She beamed at me.
“I thought I was,” Andrew protested.
“You’re the best dad. And the best husband.”
I loved these two, but I threw up a little in my mouth. Something strongly resembling jealousy roared inside me.
I checked my phone, tempted to toss it on the sidewalk. Whoever invented this instant access to everyone at all times should be ashamed. It used to be much easier to give the brush off.
It vibrated in my hand.
You won’t get away with it
The caller ID showed as unknown. Unease slithered through me, but the words could mean anything.
“That a text from Monica?” Andrew emphasized her name. “I thought you quit seeing her months ago.”