The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,47
I was nine, he just leans against the counter and crosses his arms.
“I assume that you’re here to relax—with Abby. Why in the fuck are you working?”
“That’s none of your business,” I answer and point at his dog. “Why do you have a dog?”
He can barely take care of himself. I don’t see how he can take care of another living creature.
“I’m puppy sitting,” he says, watching the chubby pup walk around the kitchen searching for crumbs. “That’s why I decided to come here for the week. My house is too dangerous for this little guy.”
Well, at least he’s responsible enough to know that his home is dangerous with all the pieces of metal he acquires at junkyards, the dried clay lying around on the floor, and the tools that are everywhere. That place isn’t safe for anyone, not even my brother. I’ve told him several times that he needs to find a studio or a new apartment. He doesn’t care one bit and just rolls with what he believes is right.
Some days I wonder what it would be like to be him. He isn’t the brattish asshole I grew up with, but he’s still selfish. He doesn’t follow the rules. Unlike me, he does whatever he wants regardless of the consequences. Live and let die is his motto. He has the means to do whatever he wants to, and for the most part, he does.
Sterling doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. Mom and Dad loved him because he’s theirs. Although they assured me that I was just like Sterling, I tried my best to be what they wanted—and needed. I worked hard to show them my gratitude and, even when I fucked up several times, I tried my best to abide by their rules. It would’ve been so easy to forget my origins and believe that everything I had was mine to take and do what I wanted with.
“I debated between lending the pup to Abbs or coming to Tahoe,” he says as an afterthought.
Looking at the pup, I’m sure that Abby would’ve loved caring for him. She’s always saying that it’d be nice to have a dog or a cat, or both if she had more time. I miss that Abby though. The one who was free, open, and always smiling. My mission is to bring her back, and if necessary, I’ll convince her to stay here permanently. It’ll fucking hurt, but it pains me more to see her suffer.
A feeling of disappointment brews in my chest. Every fucking plan I make goes up in flames for one reason or another. I toss my head back, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Dad, if you’re up there, send me a sign about what to do, please. He always had answers. At least, that’s how I remember him. Would he tell me to stop dreaming and dedicate my life to his company?
Enough about the company, and Abby’s breakdown. I crack my neck and stand up for a beer, offering one to my brother.
“Who are you sitting for?” I focus on my conversation with Sterling.
“For my neighbor. He’s getting married tomorrow.” He shrugs then shoots me an inquisitive gaze. “What’s up with dear Abby?”
I shake my head because I’ve never seen her this bad before. She had a nervous breakdown or a full-blown panic attack on the plane, and as we were arriving, she began heaving. I’m not sure if she caught a bug or her body is giving up after not sleeping for almost a week.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I answer as honestly as I can.
The clues she’s been hinting at about her past add to the puzzle, and yet they don’t make much sense. I’m not an expert, but I’m thinking that her mind is finally begging for help after all these years. It’s my understanding that she didn’t have any emotional support after her mother died. Abby didn’t allow mom or any therapist into her mind after Ava died either. Something’s gotta give and now, here we are on the edge. What’s going to happen to her if she doesn’t seek out professional help?
She never grieved her mom or her stepsister. I still don’t know how close she was to Ava, but if they shared the same room, at some point they must have become sisterly, maybe even best friends.
“Is she having nightmares?” Sterling asks with a serious voice that he barely uses.