Page 29 of Heavy
Strange, because really, I shouldn’t care.
“I dressed a bit too casual, it would seem.” I finally remove my gaze away from her to look up into my brother’s brown eyes. “She’s dressed like a hooker, and you, a grown-ass man ready for prom.”
He laughs nervously, and I hear Calista huff before saying, “You look like you just crawled out of a Goodwill. Can’t always look our best, now can we?”
I bite my tongue, shaking my head with a chuckle. When I look back at her, I silently convey she will pay for that. A blush rises on her cheeks before she quickly turns away and rushes off.
The moment I’m moving into the house, Eamon steps in front of me, halting my progress.
“Hey, listen…” He releases an exhausted sigh. “My wife, Jasmine, she’s very straight edged. It’s the lawyer in her. She is alsoveryprotective of Calista.”
“And you aren’t?”
“I mean, I am... but you were obviously joking about the outfit thing.”
I wasn’t. She’s dressed like a hooker, while he looks ready to chaperone at a high school prom night. Not that I’m complaining at all about how Cal is dressed, I indeed like it. Far too much, honestly.
“Jasmine won't appreciate those kinds of jokes.”
I lower my voice. “Why’d you invite me, Brother?” I raise an eyebrow and step toward him. As if afraid, he instinctively takes a step back.
“I wanted to have you meet my family, maybe interact with some normalcy and get out of the cabin.”
I have to admit, it seems odd that Jasmine and my brother haven’t discussed the cabin, even in passing, in the three weeks since Calista moved in. Sure, they might just be too busy for it to come up, but I can’t imagine not mentioning something like that to my own partner. Then again, I'm hardly in a position to give relationship advice.
“I see.” I step to his side. “I’ll keep myjokesto myself.”
They had been setting up the table when I pulled up to the house, and I’m grateful it seems everything is ready. It saves us from that awkward period of lingering or sitting in the living room, nursing drinks and struggling with small talk.
I step into the dining area, taking in the more modern style, quite a contrast to the rustic exterior. I spot a woman bringing in a bottle of wine. Her long, thick white hair immediately reminds me of Calista’s, and I guess that’s where she gets it. Her dark hazel eyes are fixed on me, cautious and assessing.
I stop just a few feet from the table, which is dressed in what looks like expensive dishes and cutlery.Rich people, I scoff. I’ve never understood the point of a formal dining setup; it’s just for eating, so why dress it up like a showroom when it’s all going to get messy anyway?
Cal enters through a nearby door—the aroma makes it clear it’s the kitchen—setting down a dish that looks like mashed potatoes.
“You must be Ronan.” It’s as though her mother finds her manners finally and crosses the room. Her hand extends out to me, and I simply look down at it. “I’m Jasmine Byrne, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Is it now?” I tuck a hand into my pocket and offer her a basic ‘if I must’ smile. “Pleasure, Mrs. Byrne. You’ll excuse me, I don’t…” I wave my free hand toward hers, shooing it away. “Touch. You’ll have to forgive me.”
“Oh.” She quickly pulls her arm away and looks beyond me, just as Eamon walks past. “That’s okay. I’ve heard people coming out of prison have certain sensory issues. Never met one with a touch thing. Have you seen a specialist?”
I just know this bitch isn’t talking to me as though I’m achild. She has no business trying to teach me anything. I’ve probably lived through more in reality than she could ever imagine.
I’m opening my mouth to tell her to fuck off, when Eamon cuts in. “Prison didn’t do that, honey.” It’s all he offers, because he knows exactly what did do this to me.
Whodid this to me.
My eyes drift to Calista, who looks slightly mortified staring at her mother. But as her gaze meets mine, that expression softens, melting into curiosity.
Wouldn’t you like to know, baby girl…
“Anyway,” Jasmine says through clearing her throat. “I hope you have no food aversions.”
“As long as there ain’t poison in it, I’ll eat it.”
Cal hastily takes the seat beside the empty one closest to me. Just as I’m going to sit beside her, her mother says, “Why don’t I sit beside you, sweetheart? Let your dad sit with his brother.”
Calista gets comfortable, and as if I hadn’t heard Jasmine, I sit. “Mom, please,” she says through a frustrated sigh. “What is he going to do, stab me?”
