Page 2 of The Right Kind of Wrong

It had been too easy for her to ship me off to Florida when I was sixteen; buy me an apartment instead of pretending to care about me. I was too much of a “distraction” for her.

Hannah took after my parents; all work, no play. Work, work, work. And so long as their oldest daughter built up their wonderful company, little Evelyn could go wherever she wanted.

I knew I'd be a burden as soon as I stepped foot in that airport. I was much too different from them. They would never understand the way I viewed life, nor my career choice or lack of thereof, or why I dressed the way that I dressed and not like the proper young woman they wanted me to be. I was just starting out my life. I refused to be something I wasn’t.

There were two people who stood out as different in my family. First, Nana; the matriarch, the one person that could bring us together despite our differences, the one that actually cared about human beings rather than material possessions. She was the only one who supported my decision not to be part of the family’s business.

And then there was Nathan, my sister's husband. Polar opposites. My sister was a control freak while he was just…him. My dad had tried to get him to work in the company and he had refused, not wanting to feel like he hadn't earned his place there. Besides, his interests were different. He cared more about the arts and taught in the art department at Pennsylvania State University, the same college I'd be attending.

I hoped my sister hadn't changed him with her frivolous ways and that he remained the same friendly man full of integrity I had met before.

I shook away the thoughts. He was much too strong to let himself be changed by the people surrounding him. He was twenty-five already. If he'd been so headstrong when he was younger, I was sure he remained the same.

Once we landed, I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. As much as I dreaded arriving at the place where my life would change yet again, I was nervous. Though I didn't care to admit it, I always longed for a caring word from my sister. At least a “you’re doing great.”

Maybe things would be different this time.

I dragged the luggage behind me and immediately spotted Mr. Carter, the family chauffeur. He smiled at me, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with the gesture and his arms open to receive me with a hug. I had grown up with him around. I even considered him more of a father than my own.

I ran into his arms and he laughed, the sound vibrating from deep within his chest.

“My, my, Miss Evelyn. How you've grown.”

“Well, it has been three years,” I replied.

“Far too long,” Tears formed in his eyes.

“Oh, don't do that, or I'll cry too.”

A hand on my shoulder interrupted the moment and I turned around to find the family I'd given the seat up for on the airplane. The woman hugged me, not hesitating, I hugged her back.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “We were having a hard day, so that meant everything to us.”

“Of course.” I admired the beautiful baby in the father's arms. “I hope they treated you well.”

“More than well. It was wonderful. Thank you so much.”

“Do you guys need a ride?” I asked, eyeing Mr. Carter who was already shaking his head. He knew me too well.

“Oh, that would be too much,” the man said.

“No worries,” Mr. Carter said as we walked toward the unnecessary limousine. “There is plenty of room.”

After some convincing, they climbed into the limousine and I said goodbye, opting to take a cab instead.

Time to face the future.

***

We pulled up to my sister's obnoxiously huge house, a sigh leaving my lips at the sight of the perfectly kept yard and the realization that nothing had changed. I sat in the cab much longer than I should have, wondering how I would possibly survive in such a suffocating environment.

“Is everything okay, Miss?”

“Just not looking forward to being here.” I forced a smile.

He gave me a compassionate look. “There’s a reason for everything, dear. Just remember that. It's what I always tell my kids and wife. We don't know why things happen or why we're put in uncomfortable situations, but I'm sure you'll handle it just fine.”

I thanked him, taking out the money to pay along with his tip, and handed it to him. As I closed the door behind me, he called out for me.

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