Page 55 of Tulips and Lost Time

“Well…” Alex amends. “Almost all back together.” He sits at the head of the table, a beer in one hand, and an eye scanning the occupants who sit with us. Jess and Laine on either side of me. Britt across, so when she looks up, it’s me she sees first. Marc and Ang. Scotch. Oz. The Turner parents are off on vacation now that the kiddies are all grown, and my parents are doing their own thing tonight too.

But one seat remains empty. Desolate.

Kari’s place has been set. Her plate, laid out. A knife and fork await her hands to use them. But she’s not here.

The one person I’ve waited years for remains firm in her stance against letting me back in. She robs herself of the chance to come home because she knows I’ll be here. She starves herself of the opportunity to be with her family because she knows that family includes me.

All she ever wanted was to be wanted.

I’m an asshole.

“It’s a fuckin’ tragedy,” Alex grunts, giving her empty chair one last glance. Then he brings his focus back to those of us here. “She’s been gone for too long. And though I know I saw her just two weeks ago in the city?—”

Wait. What?

“It doesn’t feel the same when she’s not here. She’s my baby sister too,” he laments, casting a look to Marc. “I know she’s yours first and foremost, but fuck, we were all kids when you and Kar came along. So I’m allowed to call her my sister, too. And I’m allowed to grieve the fact she’s choosing her life over there instead of being here with us.”

“It’s because of Ten,” Jess announces with a smile. She reaches across the table and snags a baked potato from the massive bowl in the center. “Ten has her attention right now, and since she’s the shy one of our group, the rest of us are supporting that.”

“Ten?” I lean forward so I can turn back and study my sister. Then I do the same on the other side, catching Laine’s eyes. “What’s a Ten?”

“Blake,” Britt declares. She, too, is done waiting for our dinner to be officially started. So she reaches across and steals a green bean. “Blake is also in the RN program, so he and Kari have had a few study sessions this year.”

“He’s pretty cute,” Laine smirks. “And he’s a total gentleman. He stays at the apartment sometimes and?—”

“Wait.” Finally, I speak up. “He stays at the apartment?”

Britt scoffs. “Yeah, but we’re adults now. So getting your panties twisted over this is like asking the Titanic to stop sinking. What’s done is done.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” Marc plugs his ears with two fingers and groans. “Don’t talk to me about the Titanic. And don’t tell me about this dude who sleeps over in the same apartment as my sister.”

“He stays, like…” I swallow the painful lump in my throat. “All night?”

“Yeah,” Jess inserts. “But he’s a total sweetheart. Like, me and Laine are careful to be dressed appropriately. But he’s also thoughtful enough not to wander the apartment for no reason. He arrives, but only after letting Kari know he’s coming. And she tells us before he gets there, so we’re aware of what’s happening. He goes straight to her room, and he doesn’t really come out again till the morning. So there are never any awkward hallway dramas, and we never feel like we have to do that weird dash from bedroom to kitchen or whatever.”

“He just…” My stomach heaves with disgust, vomit sprinting to the base of my throat. “He just hangs in her bedroom all day and night.” I look at Marc. “That’s so fucking thoughtful of him.”

“I’m not listening.” He closes his eyes and drops his head. “I refuse to get obsessed about this.”

“Get obsessed!” I shove my plate away and stare straight across the table at Britt. “That’s your apartment, Brat. You have a right to privacy there. So unless Blake?—”

“Ten,” she counters with a grin. “We call him Ten.”

“Unless Ten is paying a portion of the rent, then he shouldn’t be staying the night.”

“I mean…” Laine shrugs. “It’s not a big deal to us. We all…” she clears her throat. “Ya know, we all have a guest over sometimes. And Ten is pretty damn cool. He’s cute, and he has that star QB energy, but he has a brain on his shoulders, too. He and Kari are bonding on needles and medicine and stuff. So intellectually?—”

“He’s perfect!” I throw my hands up. “Great! He sounds like a fuckin’ peach.”

“What’s with the Ten thing?” Alex demands. He eyes the twins. Then Britt. “Ten, like how we say someone is a ten out of ten or something?”

“Uh… No.” Britt sniggers. Then she lifts her hands and slowly parts them to create space between. “Ten, like…”

“I’m done.” I shove up from the table before I toss my last three years of my lunch all over the turkey. Spinning away, I throw my chair back in until wood slams against wood and silverware clatters. “Eat,” I call back, stalking across the dining room and into the kitchen. “My phone is ringing,” I lie. “It’s the station.”

“But you?—”

I take out my phone and stupidly bring the damn thing to my ear, and loudly, I growl, “Hey Mitch, it’s Thanksgiving, bro. I’m off shift.”

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