if she doesn’t want you in the room, even if you end up cooling your heels at reception, you should be there.”
“Why?” he asked, taking a step toward her, pressure building in his chest. “According to you I’m a scourge, so what good could I possibly do there?”
“You’re her brother,” she said, her expression furious. “Maybe that doesn’t matter to you right now. Or you’ve lost touch with what that means, but it’s a big deal.”
Everything in him felt like it exploded then, a devastating thunderclap that toppled defenses, that exposed pain he hadn’t even known existed.
His little sister. His little sister he’d abandoned. It was so clear then. What he’d lost. What he’d missed.
All he could think of was that he had to make it stop. That he needed something, anything. And since Rebecca was the one to rock him like that, he felt like she might be the one to fix it. He advanced on her, only stopping when she shrank back. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her, so close he could reach out and touch her with ease. So close he could just pull her into his arms and kiss her and forget that Sierra was in the hospital. That she’d just given birth.
That his whole damn life was...this. Years wandering in the wilderness, building nothing except a fortune, without a single damn person to call if he had a heart attack or some shit. He had a family. That was his one tie. The only one that couldn’t be severed by distance or negligence. Because it was blood.
Whatever he’d been about to say, whatever he’d been about to do...it all just sort of evaporated. Because there was nothing he could rail at, destroy or run from that would fix this. Distance would only widen the wound, and he’d had enough of that.
There was only one thing to do.
“Take me to the hospital,” he said.
He should take her home. He shouldn’t have her drive anywhere.
“Sure.” Her voice was blank, and what he could see of her face was too.
They didn’t talk as they headed out of the house to the truck. He handed her the keys when they got to the vehicle and she took them, getting inside and starting the truck while she waited for him to get in.
As soon as they were on the main highway, she started to chatter. Which was very un-Rebecca-like.
“You probably don’t know the layout of the new hospital,” she said. “So it’s better if I drive because the birthing center is kind of hard to find. Like it’s in its own little...part of the...” She trailed off.
It suited him to have her manufacture excuses for why she was coming with him. For why he was having her drive. It was true, he didn’t know where the birthing center was, but he had a smartphone so he could figure it out fast enough by using the map app.
But he just wanted her with him. Whatever the fuck that meant, he wasn’t in the mood to figure it out.
“I bet when you left there were hardly any shops open on the main street,” she said as they drove through town. “So this must be very different.”
She sounded nervous. Nothing like she normally did. He didn’t like it. He would rather have her going after him with verbal knives than acting like she was nervous. He didn’t want her nervous. Pissed and profane, or panting beneath him, sure. But not nervous.
“Yeah, it’s pretty different,” he said.
Main Street had been white noise to him when he’d been in high school. Something he’d driven by every day of his life. He’d stopped looking at it. He’d stopped looking at much of anything except for what benefitted him, what gave him a rush of adrenaline.
He’d been the heir apparent to the town in his mind, and he’d felt like it all existed for him. That was what he remembered now as they drove on the dark, rain-drenched streets. The world’s quietest homecoming parade. Just him riding shotgun in his own truck as Rebecca filled the silence with talk about what business was where and for how long.
While he thought about that night he’d driven through town then sped off north. His friends were messing around. Passing on double lines, and it was his turn to pass and take the lead so, even though it wasn’t safe, he did. And then he saw headlights coming his direction.