“We don’t?—”
“We do. For Mimi.” It came out more aggressive than I meant. She lowered her head, clasping her hands together. “The only way I functioned was by avoiding it. I shut down. How do you even handle those feelings? I’m still not sure I know how to handle the grief. Nobody prepares you for what happened to us.”
“You vanished,” she mumbled. Not physically, but mentally? I learned to turn off my emotions. “Jonny, I needed you.”
“I didn’t process what happened, so I really didn’t know how to help you. You cried and wanted to talk about feelings. I couldn’t, not without falling apart. I thought if I put distance between us, we’d be able to grieve in our own way.”
She didn’t move when I rested a hand on her leg.
“I forgot to come back.”
“I was so angry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She looked away, doing everything in her power to avoid eye contact. “I needed you… my brother… and you left me to deal with Mom and Dad.” Tears splashed against the back of her hands. “I was alone.”
This conversation came twenty years late. I couldn't tell if the uneasy feeling in my stomach started now or if it hadbeen there for decades. We had avoided this discussion, and as much as I wanted to bolt for the door, I owed Evie.
I didn’t expect an exchange to fix things or build a bridge over the rift. Evelyn deserved better. I had been a kid. That needed to change. Mimi would tell us to work through our discomfort and get over ourselves. She’d force us into a sit down until we found mutual ground.
“Remember when you broke her vase and blamed me?”
She wiped her face, sniffling. “How do you remember that?”
“Mimi made us sit in the living room until we worked it out. Do you remember what she did while we glared at each other?”
“She made cookies.” Evie chuckled. The mood shifted as she finished wiping her face clean. “Grandmothers are devious. She kept commenting on how much chocolate was in them. Then she started eating the dough, making slurping sounds until I admitted I broke it.”
“Mimi played us.”
“She always won,” Evie said.
“I think she’s winning right now.” Evie raised an eyebrow, giving me a sideways glance. “We’re the only family left. Mimi would have wanted us here doing this together.”
“She probably staged the whole thing,” I said.
“I bet she’s in Cancun right now, drinking tequila.”
“Scotland and whisky.”
Evie wrapped her fingers around my hand, squeezing. “Not a fan of the circumstances, but I’ll overlook it becauseof the company.” The first plank of the bridge had been laid. It’d take time for both of us to heal, but at least now, we might be able to do it together.
Without thinking, I grabbed a pillow on the bed. Swinging it about, it smacked her in the face. When she didn’t respond, I feared she’d?—
“Jon Olsen.” She pushed off, tackling me while she jabbed a pointed finger at my sides. Twenty years later, and she still knew my ticklish spots. She always threatened to make me wet myself. We quickly approached that point as I writhed underneath her.
She straddled my chest, pinning me down. “Can I trade you in for a new one?” A threat I heard a thousand times. “Since we’re being honest, I have something I need to tell you.”
“You won’t convince me I’m adopted again.”
“Serious.” Tonal shift, again. She brushed her hair over her ear as she leaned back, using my stomach as a seat. “I didn’t take time off from the hotel.”
“I don’t follow.”
She let out a long sigh. “I quit.”
“Your job?” I propped myself up on my elbows, staring up at her. She did that annoying half-smile where I couldn’t be sure she told the truth. “You did it, didn’t you? You quit the hotel.”
She nodded. “They wouldn’t give me time off. I grabbed my favorite mug and walked out.” I’m pretty sure she sat a little taller as she spoke. “Best part, they’ve called me twice, begging me to come back.”
“More money?”
