Present
A WEEK LATER, my painting team is done with the rooms and the hallway. We’ve turned an ocean into a field filled with flowers and kids playing. Everyone has been working around the clock to make sure we meet the deadline, so needless to say, when we’re finally done, we all cheer loudly about it. We walk out of there, with our arms linked to one another’s, fighting the urge to close our eyes in exhaustion.
“I am so ready for sleep,” Micah says, leaning his head on mine.
“Me too,” I say with a yawn.
I nearly trip over my own feet when we round the corner, and I see Oliver talking to a nurse I haven’t seen before. He’s standing against the wall, and she’s leaning into him like he’s her next meal. I catch his eye and he straightens a bit, but I look away and lean into Micah, walking out of the hospital before he can approach me—not that I expect him to. It kills me to admit to myself that I feel anything when I see something like that happen. It kills me, because I’m really not the kind of girl who gets jealous over anything, yet when it comes to Oliver, I feel possessive.
I go home and sleep like the dead. I don’t hear my phone calls or text messages or shouts from my brother downstairs telling me I need to eat. I don’t even care about any of it, until I realize I have a missed call from my realtor, and I call her back frantically, hoping for good news.
“Hello?”
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but we have a possible buyer.”
“Oh, thank God! Finally!”
She goes on to tell me how much they offered and lets me know she’ll get back to me as soon as she needs me again. I stretch and go downstairs, half expecting not to see my brother there, but unfortunately come face to face with not only him, but his friend Bobby from work, as well. And I look like shit.
“Hey, Elle, good to see you again,” Bobby says, smiling as his eyes run up and down my body.
“Hey. Sorry you had to see me in this condition, but I’ve been sleeping for like . . .”
“Eighteen hours,” Vic interrupts.
“No shit.”
“Yes, shit.”
“Wow. I guess I was really tired.”
“Yeah, I guess. Bean called asking for you.”
I frown and pop my head out of the fridge. “And?”
“And I thought that was odd,” Vic says with a shrug. “You’ve been hanging out a lot, right?”
“Not really.” I go back into the fridge, looking for nothing in particular.
“He says he tried calling you and couldn’t get through.”
“I’ll call him back later. I think he’s working tonight anyway.”
“Yeah, isn’t tonight Grace’s night?” Bobby asks with a laugh over a mouthful of muffin.
Vic doesn’t respond, just looks at me for a reaction I don’t give him. Inside I’m screaming “Who the fuck is Grace?” but I can’t let that show. If anything, this cements the reason my brother shouldn’t know anything about Oliver and me. It just bugs me that they seem to know his every move. It makes me realize that I don’t.
“Mom called too.”
“Okay, Vic. What are you, the freaking operator? I’ll call everybody back when I feel like it.” I turn around and head back up to my room.
“Damn. Maybe she needs more sleep.”
Vic scoffs. “She was born bitchy.”