I smiled at her. "Not at all. As long as you can convince Shane to dress up as Peter Pan."
She laughed again, the sound as musical a sound as I'd ever heard. She'd be the perfect Tinkerbell. She'd be the perfect anything. I looked at her standing there in her long coral-and-white-striped halter dress, her hair sleek, golden, and straight to her shoulders. She was perfect. I hated her. No, I didn't. I liked her—I hated that I liked her. Why couldn't she have been a big ol' bitch? "I'll make sure he's a masculine looking Peter. With just enough boyish-ness. Just like him."
"What?" I asked distractedly. I shook my head, forcing myself back to the conversation. "Oh . . . Shane . . . Peter Pan, right."
I glanced up at Grayson who was slowly screwing the cap back on the water bottle, his expression hard, a small tick working in his jaw.
Sugie tentatively sniffed Vanessa's feet and Vanessa leaned down, her hand petting Sugie's head quickly and then drawing back. "I feel like I'll hurt her every time I go to touch her," she said, her voice filled with sympathy.
"You won't," I said. "She needs love more than anything. The only thing that will hurt her is holding it back."
Grayson stared at me for a moment and then without a word, turned and walked out of the kitchen. Sugie followed him, looking back at the doorway and letting out a small moan, then lowering her head and running to catch up to Grayson.
My heart clenched in pain. I looked back at my list to hide my face from Vanessa's probing eyes. He couldn’t even pretend to like me, for appearance's sake? What must Shane and Vanessa think?
"I'm sorry, Kira," Vanessa said. "Our presence is putting a strain on your marriage. We should go—"
"Not on account of me, no. Shane and Grayson have something to work out. I won't get in the way of that." I'd be gone soon enough, but Shane would always be Grayson's brother. I refused to be the reason Grayson didn't give him a chance to—at the very least—explain himself. Whatever physical interest Grayson had in me was long gone. And I could see why. Who could compete with Vanessa? She was beautiful inside and out, and I felt like the witch Grayson called me—ugly, ragged, and excluded. No one ever wanted to be with the witch, after all. Not in the end.
Charlotte came bustling into the kitchen a few minutes later, shooting nervous looks between Vanessa and me. Since Shane and Vanessa had arrived, I hadn't gotten any alone time with Charlotte, but whenever I did see her, she seemed to be wringing her hands and saying prayers under her breath. It didn’t give me a lot of confidence this situation would turn out well.
Vanessa, Charlotte, and I went over the lists in detail and split up the tasks. "Now who's going to help me make a butterscotch peanut butter cake? Shane requested it—it's his favorite," she said delightedly.
"Oh, I'll help," Vanessa said. "I need to learn the recipe so I can bake it for him myself sometimes."