Page 57 of Not Quite Perfect

“I take it from the look on your face, you’re reconsidering a life of domestic bliss with our step-brother.”

“Stop calling him that!” I leaned over the table to smack him again, but Alex was too quick for me. Before I’d even come close, he’d darted out of his chair and jumped to the other side of the tiny room, laughing the entire time.

“You know I just like messing with you. It’s too easy.”

“Yeah, well, please don’t. If you trip up and say something in front of mom, it’ll only fuel her fire.”

He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his barrel of a chest. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”

I snorted. “No, it’s worse. She called us an abomination.”

Alex eyed me with skepticism. “You’re exaggerating.” When I raised my eyebrow, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Right?”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. Scrolling to the last set of text messages I’d received from her—two days after she and Richard had walked in on David and mein flagrante delicto—I passed the phone to Alex. I could tell the second he’d read the worst of it.

“Wow,” he said, looking up from the screen. “That’s … wow.”

It took a lot to render my brother speechless. The fact that our mother’s diatribe had managed to do so indicated just how bad the situation really was.

“What are you going to do?”

My eyes brimmed with unshed tears as I hefted both my shoulders toward my ears. “Stay away, I suppose.”

He stared at me for a beat, his jaw clenched with what I interpreted as frustration. “I could talk to her. If you want me to.” He passed my phone back to me, and I set it face down on the table.

I shook my head, pulling a deep breath into my lungs. “No, don’t bother. She’s made her feelings known. Either I give up David, or I’m no longer welcome at family functions.”

Alex growled with anger. “And what does he say?”

“David?”

“Yes, David.” Alex dropped his hands to his side, his fists clenched tight as he held back his mounting anger over the situation.

“He hasn’t said anything, because I haven’t told him about her latest ultimatum.”

“What?” Alex barked, pushing off the counter and stalking over to me. Dropping down onto his haunches, he gripped my biceps. “He needs to fix this, Vick.”

That was Alex for you. If there was a problem, it was the guy’s job to solve it. Him and Vanilla Ice.

He’d spent so much of his life running off to rescue one damsel in distress or another that it never even occurred to him that I might want to handle this on my own.

“It’s not David’s problem,” I explained calmly. “She’s my mother, and I’ll deal with the situation.”

Alex pushed to his feet and began pacing the kitchen. It only took three strides before he needed to turn back around. “And what? In the meantime, we just pretend like nothing’s the matter?” He stopped and spun on his heel to face me. “Thanksgiving is next week, for fuck’s sake. You have to be there.”

Um, what?

“Uh, what?”

Alex’s face drained of color. “Oh shit.”

This time, I was the one launching out of my seat. I marched toward my brother and pressed a pointed finger into his chest. “Don’t you ‘oh shit’ me Alexander Graham Witherspoon. What’s that supposed to mean?”

He took a step back and looked away, gripping the back of his neck. “I thought you knew.”

“Clearly, I don’t, so start talking.” I planted my palms on my hips, my toe beating a rhythm on the black and white checked tiles.

“Mom’s doing Thanksgiving at her and Richard’s place. I just assumed you’d be there too.”

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