Page 235 of Things Left Unsaid

Because they’ve been straight up with me, I admit, “I hate this house. With every fiber of my being.”

“Better than hating us, I suppose,” Carson mumbles.

“Never hated you. If I did, I’d have lost your numbers while I was in New York. Just, this place has a lot of bad memories for me.” I decide to go for broke. “And you guys remind me of Dad something fierce. It hurts?—”

“We’re like him?” Calder rasps, startled buthappy…?

“Yes. Especially to look at. My grief’s still raw but that isn’t your fault.” I bite my lip. “I’m sorry.”

Carson asks, “How are we like him?”

“Your nature… It’s all him. I wish you’d had the chance to know him.” Awkwardly, I give Colby a one-armed hug. “I’m going to be sticking around though. That’s kind of why I’d like you to get along with Callan.”

Calder scowls. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“I figured you could come to the Seven Cs and we could hang out there.” I clear my throat. “Colt already said that was fine, but I don’t feel comfortable forcing you guys on Callan in his own home if you hate one another.”

Calder snags his coffee cup and eyes me over it. “Sounds like you came here with ulterior motives.”

“It hurts that you doubt the strength of my cynical nature, Calder.”

“We’ll be nice to the dweeb if it means we can go over there and hang out with you.”

“My heart feels full.” My tone’s sarcastic but I mean it.

“It should. He’s a real know-it-all,” Carson drawls.

“It’s the curse of being clever. I’m used to it with Tee.”

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Calder warns.

“You can tell her at the BBQ. She arrives the day of. Has to perform at a wedding the night before. You know she’ll agree with me.” I grab the coffee cup Colby hands me and, as I sip it, take a second to appreciate that Colt knows how my coffee should taste.

A pounding sounds overhead.

“What’s that?” I ask, peering at it and grimacing when dust motes dance into my cup.

“Mamie.”

I don’t care that I spray out a mouthful of coffee or that Colby cries, “Eww!” when some of it drips onto him.

I gape at my brother. “MAMIE? She lets you call her that?”

Carson snorts. “Didn’t have a choice. Calder wouldn’t call her anything else. Then we all joined in.”

With a mocking grin, Calder studies his nails. “It worked.”

“What have you done to our grandmother?” I tease, though I can’t deny, I dig it.

“Like Colby said—worn her down.” Carson pulls a face. “Though age might have done that.”

“And the cancer scare last year,” Calder points out.

I stagger into the kitchen table. “Cancer scare?”

“You’ve been away.” Colby pats my shoulder. “And she’s proud. She’s bound to keep stuff from you. We know because we drive her to the hospital appointments. She hid it from us when she had those polyps removed from her throat. We only found out when she couldn’t yell at us for three months solid.”

Carson coos, “Three months of silence. Bliss.”

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