Page 73 of Love Like Lightning

“No. Because we didn't want you to.” Dad takes a deep breath. “Which, we can admit, was probably not the right move. We’ve made some of those. We're only human.”

“Sure, but the solution was that…that guy? And his little girlfriend?” Mack bites out.

“Uh, they’re not dating. Not even close,” I interject, feeling oddly protective of both Cam and Gia. “And Cam seemed to have his shit together. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

“And what exactly was your deal with this Gia girl?” Mack turns her eyes on me, but I feel my parents staring too.

“We’ve been hanging out,” I answer simply, not wanting to get into all of that right now.

A knowing look crosses Mack’s face, a sardonic smile on her lips. “Right, of course.”

The teasing tone of her voice grates on me and I react. “No. Not like that. We’re friends. We’ve been friends for the last few weeks.”

“Nothing more?” This question comes from my mom, who sounds quietly curious.

“I mean, yes, but only recently. We’re still figuring it out. She wasn’t exactly honest with me, so we have some stuff to work through.” I don’t say anything else because this isn’t why we’re here.

“Well, I love her. That’s great, Hammer.” Mom beams at me and I want to smile back, but my mind catches up to hearing my nickname, and it makes me want to scream.

Before I muster up the courage to tell them all the things I’ve been meaning to tell them for ages, Mack speaks up.

“Will you hear me out about this whole situation?” Mack asks our parents, legs crossed and eyes hard.

“Of course, that’s why we wanted to talk. But you’ll hear us out too.” Dad agrees, arm slung across the back of the couch to curl around mom’s shoulders.

“I don’t understand why we’re bringing these outsiders in to fix a problem that you didn’t even let me try my hand at. What the hell does this Cam guy do anyway?”

“He’s a business restructuring consultant, and he has an impressive track record of bringing business back to life,” Dad offers, eyes wary.

“That doesn’t even sound like a real title. What did Art have to say?” Mack asks, clearly hoping our eldest brother felt the same way she does.

“Well, first he wanted to fly home.” Mom presses her lips together, clearly not a fan of that idea. “Between your father and I and Natalie, that was shot down fast. He wants to be kept updated on how things progress, but he’s still planning on returning in two months at the end of April.”

Looking defeated, Mack shifts and crosses her arms. “So what exactly is going to happen? This stranger is going to just waltz in and change everything to be the way he thinks it should be? Who’s in charge here?”

“Make no mistake, Mackenzie.” Dad pulls out her full name, and my eyebrows shoot up. “The purpose of everything Cameron wants to do is to make sure we don’t have to sell the lodge and the barn and all of the property surrounding it. We trust him to make decisions that align with what we want for the future. We’re in control, but we’re giving him a lot of leeway to do as he sees fit.”

Properly chastised, Mack pouts like she used to when us boys outvoted her on what to play for game night. The conversation seems to be coming to an end, and I consider whether I should take advantage of this opportunity to talk to them about…me.

When Mack moves to stand, speak up. “Hey, while we’re here, could we talk about something else real quick?” I ask, sweat breaking out at the nape of my neck.

“Sure thing, is it about Cam and Gia?” Mom leans into Dad’s side.

“No, no. It’s about me.”

“Is everything okay?” Dad asks, removing his arm from the back of the couch and leaning forward, forearms on his knees.

I almost say yes, but that would be a lie. I’ve been internalizing so much of what they’ve said to me over the years, how they treat me. Something’s got to change.

“No, not really.”

“What’s up, Hammer? How can we help?” Dad looks at me, open and clearly ready to do whatever he can to help.

This is why I haven’t brought up anything sooner. I know my parents and siblings love me. I know they don’t do and say the things they do to make me feel bad or inept. It’s just a byproduct, but I need them to understand.

“Well, that, for one. Do you remember the last time you used my real name?” I ask, looking at my parents, then at Mack.

“What? Of course, we use your name, honey.” Mom tries to assure me, but I watch as she tries to remember.

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