Page 43 of Lotus

Gabe saunters out of the kitchen, popping the cap off of a beer bottle. “Oliver, hey. My dad came by to visit. He was in the area.”

Travis Wellington, my elusive stepfather. “Oh,” I manage in between sharp breaths. “Hello.”

I’m drenched in sweat, my shaggy hair matted to my forehead and curling behind my ears. All I want to do is take a long shower, but I carry myself up the stairs and mentally prepare for this reunion.

Travis moves in when I reach the top, his gaze piercing as he stares at me. His face is expressionless, as if he’s waiting for something. I find it a bit unsettling.

He lets out a small sigh. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

I realize he was waiting for recognition, which I failed to deliver. My head swings back and forth, almost apologetically. “Don’t take it personally, but I hardly remember anyone.”

“It’s quite all right. I know it’s been a long time,” Travis says, bringing the rim of the glass to his lips. “Besides, I’m an old man now.”

Gabe steps over and smacks him on the back, squeezing his shoulder before he flops down onto the couch. “And you’ve got that beard going on. Can’t say I’m a fan.”

Travis releases a hearty chuckle as his fingers begin playing with said beard. “The wife likes it. She gets the final say.”

“Down vote,” Gabe quips. “And hey, you look good for fifty, Pops. Hardly old.”

My eyes dance between father and son, taking in the effortless banter. Gabe is correct—my stepfather doesn’t look old at all. He’s in impeccable shape, his muscles outlined through his tight dress shirt. His hair is dark blonde like Gabe’s, with only tiny hints of gray. He looks distinguished and smells of cigars.

Bradford smoked cigars. He even offered me one when I turned eighteen.

It was awful. I choked and sputtered and felt nauseated afterwards.

“What do you think?”

I blink, glancing back up at my stepfather. It appears I’ve zoned out. “Sorry?”

“Dinner tonight. I hope I’m not intruding on any plans.”

“You’re not. My schedule isn’t exactly flourishing at the moment.”

Travis laughs again, his chest rumbling, his whiskey sloshing against the sides of the glass. “You’ve got a sense of humor. My son must be rubbing off on you.”

A smile twitches, but never fully forms. “Yes, and Sydney.”

“Ah, yes.” He makes an agreeable sound and turns away, joining Gabe on the couch. “The neighbor girl. How are the Neville sisters these days? It’s been a long time.”

“Clem is ignoring me for unknown reasons, while Syd is avoiding me because Clem is ignoring me,” Gabe interjects, taking an aggressive pull of his beer. “Women.”

I stand off to the side, hands perched on my hips, watching as Travis spins his glass between his fingers. “Syd,” he smiles fondly. “That kid was a firecracker. I always thought you two were well-suited.”

My stomach coils, which I find to be an odd reaction.

“We’re basically the same person,” Gabe jokes, letting out a sharp laugh. “It doesn’t work at all. We’re better as friends.”

My stomach uncoils.

But that doesn’t stop my mind from racing, wondering if my brother and Sydney have ever been…intimatebefore. It seems like a natural progression, having been close friends and neighbors for so many years.

Then I wonder why I’m even wondering about it.

“Come sit, man. Stay a while.”

Gabe is waving me into the living room, so I walk with tentative steps over to the opposite couch and take a seat. I feel awkward and out of place at first, but Gabe and Travis both include me in their discussions, laugh at my unintentional jokes, and ease my discomfort until I actually feel like I’m part of the family.

And then I realize…I am.

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