Chapter Three
“Ember.” Gus shook me awake before my 7:00 a.m. alarm could blare. Sleep was great. When I was asleep, everything was normal, and this was the nightmare, but then that stupid alarm would go off, and I was back facing our “new normal.”
“Mmmm?” I mumbled, pulling my hair from my face and trying to focus my sleep-deprived eyes.
“I’m hungry.” Gus crept closer and laid his head on my pillow, inches from my face. He hadn’t brushed his teeth.
“You’re always hungry.” I tugged him closer, my hand meeting denim where I expected soft pajama pants. “Are you already dressed?”
“I have school today. The bus comes in a half hour at seven-three-zero.”
That woke me up. I climbed out of bed, secured my flyaway hair with a tie, and found a smile. “Food it is, bud.”
“We’re out.” He jetted ahead of me, taking the back stairs toward the kitchen.
“Out of what?”
The bright, open windows of the kitchen let in the morning light, and the tiles were cold on my bare feet. Coffee. Coffee would be good. I turned the Keurig on and checked the pantry while it hissed itself awake. Yeah, I don’t want to be up, either. Gus was right; we were out of cereal, oatmeal, and bagels.
We were out of everything.
When had this happened? I pulled out the last of a loaf of bread and checked the calendar on my way to the fridge. January 5. “First Day Back to School” was inscribed in Mom’s handwriting on the otherwise empty block. A week from today displayed an ominous message: “Ember back to CU for spring.”
I swallowed the panic and, instead of thinking about my departure date, reached past the doors of the fridge to grab the eggs and milk. It was also astonishingly bare. When had the food stopped being delivered? Meals had been coming in and out of this house with such frequency, it never dawned on me to actually go and buy some.
I asked Gus to check on April, and he scurried off, happy to get back to his routine. A plate of scrambled eggs and toast later, I grabbed five bucks out of the change jar for Gus’s lunch money and we headed out the door. At the bus stop, the parents were cautious around me. After all, we were now the kids with no dad, but the kids treated Gus no differently than they had before everything changed. He wasn’t dad-less Gus; he was just Gus, and it was great.
I kissed him on the forehead and sent him off, then shut the front door, coming back in the warm house. April lounged in front of the television in her pajamas. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked. “You should have been at school already.”
“Looking for something good to watch.” She had zero intention of moving.
“It’s a school day,” I said incredulously. She had to get her butt in gear or she wasn’t going to make it to first period on time. I knew for a fact it took seventeen minutes to get to the high school from our house.
“I’m not going.”
I ripped the remote from her hands and placed it on the farthest coffee table from her. If she wanted to fight me, at least she’d have to get off her butt to do it. “Yes, you most certainly are.”
“You’re not my mother.” Had she seriously used teenager logic on me? Maybe this was payback for all the hell I’d given my mother. “Besides, it’s a half day. They don’t really expect us to go.”
“Well, I’m your grandmother, and you will be going to school today.” Grams’s hands fastened the last piece of silver hair into her French twist as she came into the room, already dressed and accessorized with her single strand of pearls. Grams believed that class never slept. When April began to argue, Grams cut her off with a single arched eyebrow. “Your father died, not you. Go dress yourself, grab your backpack, and get to school.”
April didn’t bother fighting with her. We both knew that would get her nowhere. Instead, she got dressed then flew through the kitchen, snagging another five dollar bill out of the change jar as I filled my coffee cup with more creamer than I should have. “Have a good day, darling,” I sang to her.
She flipped me the bird in reply and slammed the front door as her punctuation.
Grams reached for the sugar, sweetening her coffee as well.
“Grams, I think we’re out of food.”
“What do you plan to do about it?” She sipped her coffee and went to catch up on the news. Her point was made; I was old enough to deal with this.
Five minutes and a hundred deep breaths later, I gently cracked open the door to my mother’s bedroom. “Mom?” I called out gently, not wanting to alarm her. Not that much could. She was speaking now, but only when spoken to. She never offered anything to a conversation, nor did she seek anyone out. Mostly, she slept. If she had dreams like I did, the ones where Dad came and told her everything would be okay, I understood. I’d rather be asleep, too.
I crouched next to the bed. She looked like hell. Maybe today I could get her to shower or brush her hair. “Mom?” I touched her wrist, which was turned up in sleep, her palm open like a child’s. Her brown eyes fluttered open for just a moment. She was there with me. It was the smallest of seconds, less than a heartbeat, but then I saw it take her, the knowledge that he was still gone, that this was real life, and her eyes glazed over.
“Mom, I have to grocery shop today. The house has no food and the kids went back to school.” I could tell she processed what I said, but she didn’t respond. “I think Gus has hockey this week, but I don’t know. January’s wall calendar isn’t complete.” Usually, her calendars were meticulous, her appointments punctual.
I had to try again. She had to respond. “Mom, I don’t know if I should use your debit card, or the extra cash lying around, but I have to shop today. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Sleep,” she murmured. “I just want to sleep.”
Her eyes closed, and she was gone as soon as she said the words. My fingernails bit into my palms where I clenched my fists. I wanted to let loose a deafening scream, but that would be childish. About as childish as the burning green envy twisting my stomach into knots. I wanted the sweet escape she had.
I pulled her purse off the peg in the mudroom and emptied the contents onto the kitchen counter. Her wallet, sunglasses, keys, and the giant black notebook she lovingly called “The Brain,” all appeared before me. I opened The Brain up to January and saw that Gus had hockey beginning again this afternoon. The other dates in the calendar seemed inconsequential, seeing as I wouldn’t be here for them. April needed to figure this out quickly.
One more week. One more week here in this grief-ridden house and I could return to college. Kayla had already flown back to Boulder from visiting her parents in Massachusetts. I’d be back at the parties, the mixers, and classes. I wouldn’t have to think about whether or not April was up for school, or if my mother had eaten that day. I could be with Riley.
He hadn’t been around much. He always apologized profusely, but I knew the awkwardness of this house was nothing he was prepared for, even though he’d been a part of this family for over three years now. He wanted everything to be normal, the way it was in Boulder, and I did, too. The problem was that normal wasn’t an option for me anymore, but he hadn’t really shown up for me the last two weeks, so he didn’t know that.
I wasn’t sure normal would even be there when I got back to Boulder.
“Just take her debit card,” Grams commented from across the counter. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t noticed she’d crept in. “You know better than I do what this house uses, so you take yourself to that store.”
I showered, dressed, dried my hair, and grabbed my keys and Mom’s wallet on my way out the door. “And December,” Grams interjected, “call up that boyfriend of yours and get out of the house tonight. That’s an order.”
“Uh-huh,” I called back absentmindedly.
The grocery store was pretty empty as I tossed a bag of red apples into the cart and hunted for the pomegranates April loved. I moved on to Mom’s coffee creamer and included the cookies Gus craved. Item by item, I filled the cart until it took my full body weight to turn it, and then I had to figure out where to put the milk.
Yeah, that had to be enough, because nothing else would fit in the cart. My phone buzzed.
Kayla: Can’t wait to see you next week!
The feeling was mutual. In ten minutes alone she could make me forget anything was wrong. She was magnetic, vivacious, and my best friend in Boulder.
Ember: Man, do I need you! Let me know if you have time to swing down to the Springs before start of term. If not, I’ll catch you there!
Kayla: Will do! Smooches!
Ember: Smooches!
Smooches was a Kayla thing.
I paid for my groceries, smiling as I thought of Josh paying for my cake. I wanted to see him again, but Riley would have a cow. He knew all about the crush I’d had on Josh freshman year. Hell, every girl had had one. Josh had been forbidden, untouchable, and a little dangerous, if those rumors about street racing were true. Talk of him getting kicked out of his previous school compounded with bad-boy racing, a harem of willing girls, and the legend that was Josh Walker was pretty much a given. Not that I had to worry about Josh; he didn’t exactly look my way. Ever.
He’d looked at plenty of girls though. I’d seen girls on his arm every day, and never the same one for long. If Josh had been interested in a girl in high school, there was only one reason. Even if I wasn’t with Riley, there’s zero chance I’d set myself up to be taken down by a player like Josh. Besides, I’d always be with Riley.
I loaded the groceries into the trunk and headed to Starbucks for an afternoon fix.
As the barista filled my order from the drive-thru window, I opened my sunroof and tilted my face back to the warmth. The January air was frigid, but the sun stroking my face felt delicious.
It was the first time anything had felt good since . . . well, notification.
A smile spread across my face as the scent of my salted caramel mocha filled the car on the drive home. Maybe Grams was right; I needed to get out of the house and remind myself that life still waited out there.
A dozen or so trips later, I had the bags spread out in the kitchen, the contents spilling onto the counter. I heard the door open a scant second before Gus hit the entryway, a cacophony of stampeding feet to the kitchen. “Cool!” he called out, snatching a box of Fruit Roll-Ups from the counter. “Snacks!”
I ruffled his hair and took his backpack, amazed it was already three. “Homework?”
His expression fell. “Yeah.” His face puckered up like he’d tasted something sour. “Do I have to?”
“Yep! You have hockey in an hour, so get it done.” I poured him a glass of orange juice and set it on the counter before putting away the groceries.
Two grimaces and three broken pencil tips later, Gus finished his homework, and I finished making a sandwich. “Hey, take this up to Mom if you’re done.”
“Gotta scram!” He snatched the plate and ripped through the upstairs in a flurry of activity. Gus had two speeds: full throttle and asleep.
I cracked open a bottle of water and congratulated myself on a great grocery trip.
The door slammed, accompanied by the swift click of heels on the floor. April sashayed into the kitchen, dropping her backpack, purse, keys, and phone on the island I had just cleared off. I bit back my immediate need for her to clean off her crap. Hey, was that purse new?
“Look who I found outside,” she sang, arching her perfect eyebrows at me. She took the cold bottle of water out of my hand and headed up the back stairs.
Josh Walker stood in my kitchen, leaning against the counter in jeans, a CU hoodie, and backward black hat. Holy shit, he looked freaking edible. How had I missed how hot he was the last two times I’d seen him? And what was he doing in my kitchen?
“Hey, Ember.” He smiled.
“Josh.” I was unsure I could say anything else and not jump him, but I went ahead. “What are you up to?” I put the island between us, for his own safety.
“Just grabbing Gus for practice.” His smile was lethal, a mix of boyish charm and pure sex. Sex? Like you’d even know. What the hell is wrong with you? You have a boyfriend!
“That’s . . . um . . . really nice of you.”
“I figured your mom wouldn’t be up for it yet, and Gus has been itching to get back out there.” His understanding softened me even further. It was one thing to lust after him, but quite another to find myself . . . liking him as a person, not just a hot body. After about a minute of me staring wordlessly, he raised his eyebrows in question. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asked, motioning to the pile of paper bags I’d accumulated.
“Um . . .” My mind raced through the ingredients I’d bought. What was I going to make? Chicken? I didn’t buy any. Fajitas? No steak. I sighed in exasperation and smiled. “Cookies.”
A laugh tumbled from his lips.
“I went shopping, I swear!” I laughed, holding my head in my hands. “I bought all the food everyone likes, but nothing we actually needed!” The laughter wouldn’t stop, and my shoulders shook as I let go. “We have coffee creamer, but no coffee, and tortillas but no cheese.”
Josh’s laughter mingled with mine. He reached over and pulled my hand from my face, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s good to see you smile, Ember.” The nerves in my skin short-circuited where he touched me.
My smile slipped. Was it too soon? Am I allowed to laugh? As if on cue, Gus scrambled in from the garage, toting a bag of gear bigger than he was. “Ready, Coach?”
“You got it, little man,” Josh answered, slipping his hand from mine. He sent me a smile that made me forget my own name. “Later, Ember.” Good thing he reminded me.
I nodded, doing my best not to look too freaking captivated by him. “Seat belt on, Gus, okay?”
Josh didn’t mock or patronize me, just nodded his head once. “You hear that, Gus? Seat belt’s on you.”
The door shut behind them, and I whipped out my cell phone, needing my anchor and a quick reminder that I wasn’t allowed to think naughty thoughts about Josh Walker.
Ember: Hey, honey, what are you up to tonight?
Riley: Not much, just missing you.
A familiar sweet pressure settled in my chest.
Ember: Feel like springing me tonight? I think I’m ready to rejoin civilization.
A few minutes passed before his reply buzzed my phone.
Riley: Man, babe, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have come up to Breck.
Ember: You’re back in Breckenridge?
Riley: Up here with a bunch of the guys, thinking of having a party.
I didn’t know how to respond to that one, so I grabbed another bottle of water. A few swallows later, my phone buzzed again.
Riley: Party is on. Sorry, babe, or I’d come down, but I can’t leave these animals with the cabin.
Riley was having a frat party. A freaking frat party.
Ember: Don’t worry about it.
Riley: Love you!
I shook my head, not bothering to respond. I shot Sam a quick text, but she was up in Denver for the night with her mom.
A freaking frat party. I grabbed the nearest sponge and tore into the mess that littered the kitchen. He couldn’t even be bothered with me. Weren’t we supposed to have the perfect relationship? Everything had to be pure and white on paper for his “future political career.” Where was Mr. Perfect tonight? The kitchen counters received an angry bleaching, and then I attacked the cabinets before moving onto the floors, the refrigerator, and even the shelves of the pantry. No surface was safe from my wrath.
Sweat beaded my forehead by the time I finished almost three hours later, throwing the sponges and gloves into the sink with a little too much zeal. I still didn’t feel better.
“It smells like lemons.” Gus grimaced, his sneakers squeaking on the wet floor as he hauled his hockey gear back to the laundry room. Mom trained him well.
“Lemons and pizza.” Josh laughed, setting down three huge pizza boxes on the kitchen island. “As good as cookies sounded, something told me you were missing a few food groups.”
I blew a loose strand of hair from my face, his smile too contagious for my own good. “And pizza has all the food groups?”
He reached out, tucking the strand of auburn behind my ear, his fingers grazing my neck by accident. Or, at least I convinced myself it was. “Pizza is the exception to every rule.” He didn’t step back, but stayed within inches of me, and everything in my body became aware of how close he was.
“Of course.”
We stood there, staring at each other in a charged silence. There was nothing awkward about being quiet around Josh. No pressure to fill the silence or find something witty to add, but man, the air hummed with electricity.
“Ah, Mr. Walker!” Grams patted him on the back as she came into the kitchen. “My granddaughter needs to get out of the house, and her boyfriend has yet to do anything about it.” I heard an as usual slip out under her breath. “Could you haul her out of here for me?” Blood rushed to my cheeks, announcing my mortification. It’s like she knew he’d blown me off. Or maybe she’d just expected it?
“Ma’am?” Josh asked with a tilt to his head, and a curious gaze tossed my direction.
“She’s turning into a hermit, Mr. Walker. I firmly expect cats to begin arriving at the doorstep at any moment. Please, do the world a favor and take her out.”
“Where’s Riley?” Josh’s mouth turned down. Double mortification.
“Breckenridge, throwing some frat party.” Oh, was that a twinge of bitterness slipping through my voice?
“Mmmhmm.” Grams sighed.
He nodded once, his eyes unfocused. “Right.” A myriad of emotions I couldn’t place skated across his face, changing the landscape in small, instantaneous, meaningful ways. “Want to crash it?”
A wave of excitement hit me. Ooh! Surprise Riley! But common sense and reality got the best of me. “I shouldn’t really go that far.”
Grams sighed. “Nonsense. Josh, she’ll be ready in an hour with an overnight bag. I’m assuming I won’t be seeing you until tomorrow. Just grab the key and stay at your parents’ cabin.”
The cabin had been Mom’s forty-fifth birthday present from my father; his one splurge to prove they would retire here, and she wouldn’t have to move anymore.
Nausea gripped my stomach at the thought of doing something fun, like I was betraying Dad. I hadn’t grieved enough; I wasn’t wearing black; I hadn’t cried the requisite number of tears. “I just don’t want to. I’m not ready.”
“Neither was your sister. Did you really think I would go easier on you?” She arched her eyebrows and dismissed me, turning back to the kitchen.
Well, I guess that was settled. Grams had spoken. To the party we were going.