Sidelined (23 page)

“Whiskey wouldn’t do that. Narcotics, maybe.”

“Whoa, sis. If there’s narcotics being thrown around, I’ve gotta take her in.”

“Musta been on narcotics when these nuts were conceived,” Joe mutters in my ear. “Finally totally lucid and they’re bitching. Some things never damn well change.” He whistles sharply, and both Macey and Cal stop their bickering. “I said I like Jack. He’s a good guy, until like that tool you brought home before.”

“Dad,” Macey warns quietly, dropping into the armchair.

“Don’t take that tone with me, girl,” Joe warns back. “Say, Jack, you wanna grab a beer?”

“Dad, you aren’t allowed beer,” Cal groans.

“I’m not allowed beer when I’m crazy.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Mind is my own right now, boy, and if I wanna enjoy a beer, I’m gonna enjoy a beer. Jack? Beer?”

Macey stares at me hard.

I shrug. “Sure, si—Joe.”

Her mouth drops open as he leaves the room. “Did he just… Did you just… Did he… wWhat?”

“All right, babe?” I grin, perching on the arm of her chair and swinging my arm around the back of it.

“Um, did you just call my dad Joe?”

“You need a hearing test?”

“It took Mitch four months before Dad would let him call him by anything other than ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Kelly,’” Cal explains. “Even Amy had to wait for, like, two and a half months and she can charm her way through a battlefield.”

Amy giggles.

I say nothing. I just lean back and smile, doing my best to ignore the ache that still sits heavy in my chest.

T
hat bastard is hiding something.

You do not just walk into my father’s puzzle room and resurface twenty minutes later like you’re best fucking buddies. No—my father interrogates potential son- and daughter-in-laws until he knows whether or not they stole fifty cents out of their mom’s wallet when they were six, when and how they lost their virginity, and how their last sexual screening came back.

My father, an ex-detective, does not just let people call him Joe within fifteen minutes of meeting them.

The more I get to know Jack, the less I think I actually know him. He possesses charm by the bucket load. That much is obvious. He also possesses great skills of seduction and the magic cock to go with them, but I know for a fact that he didn’t use
that
particular skill set to get my father to like him.

So what did he use?

“You know, Macey, I don’t always recognize your mom.” Dad tilts his head to the side, watching through the door as Mom serves up dinner with the help of Cal and Jack. “Sometimes, it takes me a few minutes to remember she’s my wife and the mother of my children. But I never forget that I love her. Not once have I looked into her eyes and forgotten that I’m in love with her. And that’s the thing about love. It’s timeless.”

“That’s random, Daddy. Sweet, but random.” I raise an eyebrow.

“So you’d think.” He smiles at me. “The mind may forget with age, but the heart will remember beyond its last beat. Maybe, girl, you need to remember that. That the man your heart will love even when it no longer beats is the man you’re meant for. Because the heart always knows. There’s no debating it. It’s fact. It’s kind of like when she brings me a beer if I’ve had a good day. I don’t always recognize the brand, but I still know it’s a damn good beer.”

“I get it, but I’m not in love with anyone, you know.”

“You say that, girl. You say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s like when you come around,” he continues, and I wonder if he’s starting to fall back into himself. “I know I don’t always know who you are at first, but I remember I love you because I get this warm feeling in my chest when I look at you, and that’s enough for me.”

“I’m still lost.”

“I’m just saying that you can love someone and not know who they are. You can love them and not
need
to know them.”

I narrow my eyes at him as he eases himself from the chair and walks into the kitchen. I think, despite the Alzheimer’s, that my father is far too intelligent for his own good.

And totally off the mark.

I don’t love Jack. Or Mitch.

I think.

I take my seat at the table and stare at Jack contemplatively as he casually discusses football with my Dad—and Amy—over a steaming dinner. Mom watches, a smile playing on her lips because Dad is totally in control. It’s been a while since he was this lucid for this long, especially around so many people, so despite my original misgivings about inviting Jack here, it turns out it’s one of the better plans I’ve been strong-armed into.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Cal mutters.

I lift my glass of wine. “I’m thinking I have no idea who Jack Carr is,” I whisper back.

“Want me to run background on him at the station?”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Still…?”

“No. You don’t need to run a background check on him, Cal.” I roll my eyes.

“Suit yourself. Why do you say you don’t know him?”

“He’s an obnoxious prick.”

Cal snorts then coughs. I hide behind my wine glass and avert my eyes as everyone stares at us.

“What are you two doing down there?” Mom asks.

We point at each other the way we did as kids when we got caught doing something we shouldn’t have. Mom simply rolls her eyes and focuses back on her dinner. Dad’s eyes sparkle with laughter the way they always used to, and he punctuates the silent laughter with a wink. We grin, adding to Amy’s scowl at presumably being left out of our little chat.

And Jack, well… He just looks at me. One eyebrow raised, his lips tugged up on one side with it, his eyes promising to fuck the answer out of me later.

“I don’t like how he’s looking at you,” Cal whispers when everyone but Jack has turned away.

“Bit late for the ‘don’t touch my sister’ chat,” I retort.

“You think he’s hiding something?”

“Nothing big,” I concede. “Just…something. It’s like when Dad can’t find a piece of one of his puzzles. He can’t go on until he’s found that exact bit. Whatever it is, there’s something about Jack that makes me hesitate.”

“You weren’t exactly going full-throttle in the first place,” my brother happily reminds me.

“I’ll full-throttle my fork up your ass if you carry on being cocky,” I threaten under my breath.

He laughs again but doesn’t try to disguise it this time. Once again, everyone’s eyes turn to us, and I sit up straight and dig my fork into my pie. Unfortunately, my threat to Cal has backfired and totally killed my appetite.

“I’m all right,” Cal reassures everyone, still fighting laughter.

Gotta admit that the laughing makes it way unconvincing.

“Behave yourselves, you two. You’re being very rude,” Mom says calmly. But there’s the Mom Tone. The one that makes you sit upright and not say another fucking word unless you’re spoken to.

Yeah, that one.

The rest of dinner passes in a flurry of football talk and Amy giggles. And Amy hair flicks. And Amy smiles, eyelash flutters, hair twirls, and more giggles.

Basically, the rest of dinner passes in a lot of Amy flirting, a lot of Macey dirty looks, a lot of Calvin jaw clenches, and a helluva lot of smooth ignoring by Jack. My parents also ignore the blatant show in front of them. My dad is either inside his head or choosing to wisely ignore it like my mom is.

I kick Cal under the table just before we put our dishes into the dishwasher and drag him into the living room before anyone else can dart in. “We’ll go soon,” I whisper, hearing voices in the kitchen.

“What’s she playing at?” he whisper-growls in an odd combination.

“You don’t want me to answer that, do you?”

“No. How aren’t you pissed off about what she just did all through dinner?” Cal’s eyes bore into mine.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I snort. I sober when his look gets dark. “Sorry.”

“Georgia?” Dad shouts. “Georgia?”

“Oh no,” I breathe.

“Georgia, are you here?”

Mom’s voice hums low, soothing as she speaks to him. Dad doesn’t calm down though, his shouts only heightening in volume and pitch.

Cal briefly touches my arm. “It was too much for him.”

A plate smashes, and Amy runs into the front room, Jack right behind her.

My heart pounds, and I wrap my arms around myself. I know what happens now. Cal goes in and restrains Dad and Mom sedates him. Cal then carries him upstairs and he sleeps until morning.

True to my thoughts, Cal disappears through the door without a backward glance. I close my eyes and take a deep breath as there’s a loud, panicked shout.

“M.” Jack whispers the nickname, his arm curling around my shoulders.

I press my face into his chest, and he buries his into my neck.

“I’m sorry, baby. I have to go.” His lips brush my neck, and then he releases me.

I stare after him as he walks through the door. I still stare, even as his car engine rumbles outside and slowly quiets as he drives away. Something in me twists and snaps, and I know that it was that tiny bit of hope I was fighting against.

I was fighting it for good reason, it seems.

Silence descends on the house, and then the sound of my mom’s soft cries fill the air.

I turn to Amy. “Call a cab and go home.”

“What?” Her eyes widen.

“Call a cab and go home,” I repeat, harsher this time. “And next time you hit on a guy, you should probably avoid doing it front of your boyfriend and his family.”

I walk past her into the kitchen and see Mom leaning against the counter, one hand clasping the edge and the other cupped over her mouth. Her eyes are brimming with tears, and some have already snaked their way down her cheeks, drawing lines in her face powder.

“Mom,” I say softly, her pain becoming my pain as I wrap my arms around her.

Another set joins us, and we both curl into my brother’s embrace, coping with the aftermath of Dad’s breakdown the way we know how to. Together.

“Good news,” Cal says as soon as I answer my phone. “Mom’s agreed to get a nurse and let me help pay for her.”

“Really?” I pause, my mascara wand in the air. “She did?”