I’d always liked my brother’s wife.
Anyway, I wanted you to know I will not betray your confidence with Mom. And when you get here, I’d really like it if we could sit down and talk. I promise to listen.
I frowned at the screen. Did he really want to talk—or listen? Or was this just a ploy to get me to take his medical advice?
Olympia and Lane can’t wait for you to arrive. Oly says you can sleep in her room and you can even have the top bunk.
That brought a little smile. I was excited to see the kids, and sometimes it was the thought of them that made me think hard about treatment. It would be nice to see them grow up. But at what price?
Sighing, I pushed myself off the wall and headed for the front door. I wouldn’t think about that now. Nor would I worry about mending my relationship with my brother.
Today, the only person I cared about was Maren.
Nine
Maren
I was so happy, I was tempted to sing in the shower. The only thing that prevented me from doing it was the thought that Dallas might hear me. I am good at many things, but singing is not one of them. Growing up, my sisters always wondered how someone with a gift for dance could be so totally tone deaf.
But I did allow myself to hum “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” as I washed my hair. I knew I shouldn’t get too carried away where Dallas was concerned—he was only staying one more day, and it wasn’t as if he had mentioned any kind of commitment to seeing each other beyond that. But it was hard not to be hopeful.
The other thing that had me in such a good mood was the long stretch of nightmare-free sleep. It was still a little troubling (not to mention embarrassing) that I’d had the nightmare while sleeping next to Dallas, since I’d thought that forgiveness and making amends would soothe my subconscious, but maybe I had to give it more time. Let the message really sink in deep.
I was a bit concerned about what had happened in the hotel room this morning—for a second there, I’d thought Dallas was going to pass out. He’d seemed to recover quickly afterward, but I’d been relieved when he agreed to let me drive to my house. It was obvious he hadn’t liked it, and he’d been a bit silent and sullen during the ride, but he must have known it was the responsible decision. And his Man Ego would survive.
I turned off the water, squeezed out my hair, and grabbed my towel. I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard Dallas’s voice coming through the screen. It sounded like he was angry. Yelling at someone. I frowned and moved closer to the window, wrapping my towel tightly around my chest.
“Fuck you, Finn!” He yelled. “You don’t know anything about me or how I feel.”
I covered my mouth with one hand. I couldn’t see him, but his voice was coming from over to the right, as if he had walked into the backyard. A moment later, he went on angrily.
“Do you know what it was like constantly living in your shadow? You weren’t even there and yet you were, being better than me at everything in every way. Better at school, better at music, better at impressing adults, better at making good choices. You had done everything so right that there was no room for mistakes. I didn’t stand a chance, so what what the point of trying? And maybe that’s unfair to you, that’s how I felt then and it’s a hard thing to get over.”
Tears came to my eyes. Poor Dallas. No matter how much time had gone by, no matter what he looked like on the outside, somewhere inside him was the boy he’d been, the one who had never been good enough in his parents’ eyes. He’d never talked about it much, but I had always suspected it hurt him more than he let on that they didn’t appear to take pride in him. That his brother had clearly been the favorite. That he felt he would never measure up. Hearing him admit it now broke my heart.
“But forget it, Finn. I apologize, okay?” Then he lowered his voice, and a lawnmower came on next door, so it was too hard to hear what he said next. But he wandered past the window a few seconds later, and I heard him say, “I’m staying in Detroit another night or two. I’ll be there in time for the appointment with the surgeon on Tuesday.”
Quickly, I backed away from the screen so he wouldn’t see me.
Surgeon? Goose bumps spread over my skin. Why did Dallas have to see a surgeon? Was it the headaches? And why in Boston? Was it a friend or colleague of his brother’s?
I was even more worried now. But I couldn’t ask him about it, because that would mean admitting I’d overheard him through the window. He clearly didn’t want me to know about it or else he’d have mentioned it already.
After drying off, I hung up my towel and went into my bedroom to get dressed. While I tugged on denim shorts and slipped an embroidered blouse over my head, I wondered what had set off the argument between Dallas and his brother. I wished I could ask him about it, but if he knew that I’d heard him confess how he felt about growing up in Finn’s shadow, he’d be devastated. He’d always been so proud. But on the other hand, I wanted him to know he could confide in me. Trust me with his feelings. It must be terrible to hold all that hurt inside. What could I do to help him?
I continued to think about it while I blow-dried my hair. When it was mostly dry, I put in a couple braids near the front and pinned them at the back, leaving the rest down. The only makeup I added was some mascara and lip balm, and rather than perfume, I rubbed a few drops of jasmine oil on my wrists and neck. It was while I was putting the cap back on the bottle that I had an idea about what I could do to help Dallas with both his physical and his emotional pain.
I found him in my living room, sitting on the couch wearing a broody expression. “Hey,” I said, sitting down next to him.
When he saw me, his face relaxed. “Hey. You smell good.” He reached for me, pulling me toward him so I was lying across his lap.
I looped arms around his head and laughed as he buried his face in my neck. “Thanks. Hey, I have an idea.”
“Mmm. Me too.” He pressed his lips to my throat and slid one hand up my rib cage, beneath my blouse. “I hope it’s the same one.”
I giggled. “It’s not.”
“Then I vote we do mine first.” He covered one breast with his hand and nibbled my earlobe. “You’ll like it, I promise. It starts by making you come with my tongue and moves on from there.”
Between my legs, I felt a pleasant flutter, and nearly gave in to it. “That does sound nice, but first we’re going to do something for you.”
“What?”
“Clear your chakras.”
“I like my idea better.”
“I know you do, and I promise we will get there, but first I want to do this for you.” I put my hand on his shoulders and pushed back gently, forcing him to look at me. “Please?”
“Why? I’m not having any nightmares, unless I’m in one right now and you’re going to make me walk around with this hard-on all day.”
“It’s not just for nightmares. It’s for other things too, and I think it could help you with your headaches.” And your family issues, I wanted to add. “We have a class on it at the studio, and everyone always says they feel better afterward.”
“I already know what will make me feel better.”
“Come on, you’ll like this. It involves massage.” I slid my palms down his chest and spoke seductively. “I’ll have my hands all over you. I’ll even sit on your lap.”
“That’s only going to make me want my idea more. I can’t promise I’ll be able to control myself.”
I smiled. “Just try. For me.”
He sighed heavily. “I suppose I can’t say no to you since I showed up out of the blue and basically kidnapped you for the weekend.”
“That’s right. You can’t.” I managed to sit up. “It’s going to feel good, I promise.”
He stayed where he was while I got everything ready—closing the curtains to block out the light, pouring some rosewood oil into my diffuser dish, lighting the flame beneath it. “What’s a sound you like?” I asked him, scrolling through the choices on my Meditation Playlist.
“You screaming my name.”
I ignored that. “Waves? Thunderstorm? Ocean breeze? Rainforest? Birds chirping? Babbling brook?”
Anyway, I wanted you to know I will not betray your confidence with Mom. And when you get here, I’d really like it if we could sit down and talk. I promise to listen.
I frowned at the screen. Did he really want to talk—or listen? Or was this just a ploy to get me to take his medical advice?
Olympia and Lane can’t wait for you to arrive. Oly says you can sleep in her room and you can even have the top bunk.
That brought a little smile. I was excited to see the kids, and sometimes it was the thought of them that made me think hard about treatment. It would be nice to see them grow up. But at what price?
Sighing, I pushed myself off the wall and headed for the front door. I wouldn’t think about that now. Nor would I worry about mending my relationship with my brother.
Today, the only person I cared about was Maren.
Nine
Maren
I was so happy, I was tempted to sing in the shower. The only thing that prevented me from doing it was the thought that Dallas might hear me. I am good at many things, but singing is not one of them. Growing up, my sisters always wondered how someone with a gift for dance could be so totally tone deaf.
But I did allow myself to hum “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” as I washed my hair. I knew I shouldn’t get too carried away where Dallas was concerned—he was only staying one more day, and it wasn’t as if he had mentioned any kind of commitment to seeing each other beyond that. But it was hard not to be hopeful.
The other thing that had me in such a good mood was the long stretch of nightmare-free sleep. It was still a little troubling (not to mention embarrassing) that I’d had the nightmare while sleeping next to Dallas, since I’d thought that forgiveness and making amends would soothe my subconscious, but maybe I had to give it more time. Let the message really sink in deep.
I was a bit concerned about what had happened in the hotel room this morning—for a second there, I’d thought Dallas was going to pass out. He’d seemed to recover quickly afterward, but I’d been relieved when he agreed to let me drive to my house. It was obvious he hadn’t liked it, and he’d been a bit silent and sullen during the ride, but he must have known it was the responsible decision. And his Man Ego would survive.
I turned off the water, squeezed out my hair, and grabbed my towel. I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard Dallas’s voice coming through the screen. It sounded like he was angry. Yelling at someone. I frowned and moved closer to the window, wrapping my towel tightly around my chest.
“Fuck you, Finn!” He yelled. “You don’t know anything about me or how I feel.”
I covered my mouth with one hand. I couldn’t see him, but his voice was coming from over to the right, as if he had walked into the backyard. A moment later, he went on angrily.
“Do you know what it was like constantly living in your shadow? You weren’t even there and yet you were, being better than me at everything in every way. Better at school, better at music, better at impressing adults, better at making good choices. You had done everything so right that there was no room for mistakes. I didn’t stand a chance, so what what the point of trying? And maybe that’s unfair to you, that’s how I felt then and it’s a hard thing to get over.”
Tears came to my eyes. Poor Dallas. No matter how much time had gone by, no matter what he looked like on the outside, somewhere inside him was the boy he’d been, the one who had never been good enough in his parents’ eyes. He’d never talked about it much, but I had always suspected it hurt him more than he let on that they didn’t appear to take pride in him. That his brother had clearly been the favorite. That he felt he would never measure up. Hearing him admit it now broke my heart.
“But forget it, Finn. I apologize, okay?” Then he lowered his voice, and a lawnmower came on next door, so it was too hard to hear what he said next. But he wandered past the window a few seconds later, and I heard him say, “I’m staying in Detroit another night or two. I’ll be there in time for the appointment with the surgeon on Tuesday.”
Quickly, I backed away from the screen so he wouldn’t see me.
Surgeon? Goose bumps spread over my skin. Why did Dallas have to see a surgeon? Was it the headaches? And why in Boston? Was it a friend or colleague of his brother’s?
I was even more worried now. But I couldn’t ask him about it, because that would mean admitting I’d overheard him through the window. He clearly didn’t want me to know about it or else he’d have mentioned it already.
After drying off, I hung up my towel and went into my bedroom to get dressed. While I tugged on denim shorts and slipped an embroidered blouse over my head, I wondered what had set off the argument between Dallas and his brother. I wished I could ask him about it, but if he knew that I’d heard him confess how he felt about growing up in Finn’s shadow, he’d be devastated. He’d always been so proud. But on the other hand, I wanted him to know he could confide in me. Trust me with his feelings. It must be terrible to hold all that hurt inside. What could I do to help him?
I continued to think about it while I blow-dried my hair. When it was mostly dry, I put in a couple braids near the front and pinned them at the back, leaving the rest down. The only makeup I added was some mascara and lip balm, and rather than perfume, I rubbed a few drops of jasmine oil on my wrists and neck. It was while I was putting the cap back on the bottle that I had an idea about what I could do to help Dallas with both his physical and his emotional pain.
I found him in my living room, sitting on the couch wearing a broody expression. “Hey,” I said, sitting down next to him.
When he saw me, his face relaxed. “Hey. You smell good.” He reached for me, pulling me toward him so I was lying across his lap.
I looped arms around his head and laughed as he buried his face in my neck. “Thanks. Hey, I have an idea.”
“Mmm. Me too.” He pressed his lips to my throat and slid one hand up my rib cage, beneath my blouse. “I hope it’s the same one.”
I giggled. “It’s not.”
“Then I vote we do mine first.” He covered one breast with his hand and nibbled my earlobe. “You’ll like it, I promise. It starts by making you come with my tongue and moves on from there.”
Between my legs, I felt a pleasant flutter, and nearly gave in to it. “That does sound nice, but first we’re going to do something for you.”
“What?”
“Clear your chakras.”
“I like my idea better.”
“I know you do, and I promise we will get there, but first I want to do this for you.” I put my hand on his shoulders and pushed back gently, forcing him to look at me. “Please?”
“Why? I’m not having any nightmares, unless I’m in one right now and you’re going to make me walk around with this hard-on all day.”
“It’s not just for nightmares. It’s for other things too, and I think it could help you with your headaches.” And your family issues, I wanted to add. “We have a class on it at the studio, and everyone always says they feel better afterward.”
“I already know what will make me feel better.”
“Come on, you’ll like this. It involves massage.” I slid my palms down his chest and spoke seductively. “I’ll have my hands all over you. I’ll even sit on your lap.”
“That’s only going to make me want my idea more. I can’t promise I’ll be able to control myself.”
I smiled. “Just try. For me.”
He sighed heavily. “I suppose I can’t say no to you since I showed up out of the blue and basically kidnapped you for the weekend.”
“That’s right. You can’t.” I managed to sit up. “It’s going to feel good, I promise.”
He stayed where he was while I got everything ready—closing the curtains to block out the light, pouring some rosewood oil into my diffuser dish, lighting the flame beneath it. “What’s a sound you like?” I asked him, scrolling through the choices on my Meditation Playlist.
“You screaming my name.”
I ignored that. “Waves? Thunderstorm? Ocean breeze? Rainforest? Birds chirping? Babbling brook?”
