He sighed. “Fine. Two rooms.” He stood and stretched his leg, which had begun to throb dully. He’d been glad to drive this leg of the journey - grateful for the distraction, even. But his leg definitely couldn’t handle an all-day-stint.
“I’m going with you,” she told him, unbuckling her belt and sliding out her side.
“You fine with Molly?” Damon asked Cain, not looking him in the eye.
“Yeah. We’ll be great.”
With a nod, Damon set off for the office, Chelsea trailing behind him.
When they returned to the car, nearly twenty minutes later, Chelsea was no happier. “I said I could pay, Damon.”
“And I saidno. You’re my sister, and I…”
“You arenotmy brother!God!” she fumed. “Do you know how many times I wished I had a brother or a sister, someone who could take me out of that shithole? But I didn’t. Because you never bothered getting in touch with dad after you left. And now I don’t want your help. I don’t need it. The only reason I’m letting you help me right now is because I literally don’t have a choice, also thanks to you.”
She blew out a breath. “I need to cool down before I get Molly or I’ll just upset her.” She grabbed one of the keys from his hand and walked off in the other direction, taking the long way to her room.
Damon sighed, and went back to the car to get Cain and Molly. But when he got to the Acura, no one was there.
He panicked for half a second, before he heard laughter coming from behind a group of trees maybe a hundred feet away. He shuffled over, damning the stiffness in his leg once again. He’d purposely left his pain medication back in Boston, knowing that he’d need a clear head no matter how painful his leg was.
Another burst of childish laughter made him slow his steps as he got closer to the trees, and had him peeking around the side rather than yelling at them to hurry up. He was glad he’d been cautious. A pair of dark heads was bent over a picnic table, an open plastic container of crayons between them. A yellow-haired doll sat propped on the tabletop, supervising the art.
“Yeah, your mom must know coloring is your favorite,” Cain was agreeing. “That’s why she remembered to bring your supplies.”
“Yeah. My Momma was running this morning,” Molly told him matter-of-factly. “Hurrying around like…” She waved both hands in the air frantically and made a buzzing sound.
“Oh, yeah? And how wereyoufeeling?” Cain asked. His tone was mild and he kept his eyes on whatever he was drawing.
“Iwas fine. But maybe… maybe Jenny was a bit scared, though.” She nodded at the doll on the table.
“Hmm. I can see that. Jenny’s justlittle.She’s not almost-four, so she doesn’t understand things like you do. Maybe you could explain to her that Damon is here now, and he’s not going to let anything happen to any of you. And neither will I.”
Damon squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and had to brace a hand against the tree trunk at the conviction in Cain’s voice. It made his heart beat faster knowing Cain had that much faith in him. And it made him feel like an asshole, because he didn’t -couldn’t -have the same faith in Cain.
He almost stepped forward then, but Molly spoke again.
“Jenny maybe thinks Damon is… scary.”
Cain huffed out a laugh. “He gets pretty scowly, doesn’t he? Like this?”
He couldn’t see what Cain was doing, but Molly started giggling. “Yes! His face is so pinchy, just like my Momma’s when she’s losing her mind.”
“When she’swhat?”
“Losing her mind,” the little imp repeated patiently, as though explaining a foreign language to Cain. “One time, I colored on the cabinets in the kitchen even though I was s’posed to know thatmarkers only color on paper for God’s sake, Molly.” Her voice as she imitated Chelsea was pitch-perfect. “And my Momma made me go to time-out in my room for like ahundredhours, or maybe even ayear, because she waslosing her mind.”
Damon shook his head, and Cain’s voice was choked with suppressed laughter when he replied, “But then she came and got you?”
“When she found her mind again. Yeah,” she agreed. “So, why is Damon losing his mind?”
“Uh.Well. He’s very angry that somebody made your mom upset, for one thing. He loves you both, even though he doesn’t know you as well as he’d like to. He was worried.”
“He was?”
“Sure. So was I.”
“Hey, can I have the purple one?”
