Page 19 of Frosted and Sliced

“Have you been out of the country?” Burke demanded.

Brody blinked at him, confused. “No, why?”

“I’m trying to figure out why else you have abandoned your sister here,” he motioned recklessly toward Georgette, who gasped. Brody glanced at her in dismay.

“What? What are you talking about? I haven’t abandoned her.”

“Really? You let her buy this place, with the condition it’s in?” Burke demanded.

“Hey,” Georgette interjected. Meanwhile Brody’s eyes skimmed over the inn, as if seeing it anew.

“You let her be treated like a pariah all over town?” Burke continued.

“What are you talking about? Everyone loves Georgette.” Brody’s eyes landed back on his sister, demanding she back him up.

She froze. “Er…”

His expression dimmed. “Georgette, what’s the problem? Has someone in town been giving you a hard time? Harassing you?”

“Er…” she repeated. For some reason her gaze landed on Burke, who faced Brody with an annoyed huff.

“They treat her like she doesn’t have a brain, they exclude her, purposely look away from her while they’re talking, ignore and belittle her.”

“What?” Brody said softly, a little stunned. “No, that’s not…Georgette, tell him that’s not…”

Georgette couldn’t say anything, though, because she’d started to cry. This time when Brody and Burke looked at each other, it was in mutual discomfort. Neither was naturally gifted with a woman in tears.

“Wait, I know what to do with this,” Burke said, as if just remembering this was a problem he’d previously solved, conveniently forgetting it was also a problem he’d previously created. He sank to his knees next to Georgette, put an arm around her, and pulled her softly against his chest.

“What is going on?” Brody whispered, when Georgette leaned into the stranger like they were new best friends, like she’d been waiting all her life for a hug like that. Why should she, though, when she had him? True, he hadn’t exactly been overly affectionate with her, but he hugged her. Didn’t he? He tried to remember the last time he hugged his sister. To hisshame and embarrassment, he thought it might have been the day she graduated culinary school, years ago. He swallowed hard, fighting a wave of guilt that threatened to drag him under. He’d screwed up a lot of things in his life, but he felt certain he’d always been a good brother to Georgette. Now, though, an unidentified stranger was insinuating he hadn’t. That people had been mean to Georgette, people in their town. And what was the part about the inn? He looked around again, but to him it looked the same as everything else in town—dilapidated and salt-worn. Fighting against the ocean spray was a losing battle most people in town gave up long ago.

“Georgie?” he tried, for the first time in his life uncertain where to go next. He crouched next to her but didn’t sit, in case he needed to make a quick getaway. Women confounded him, always had. His little sister had always been immune to that rule, and now she was one of them. How badly had he messed her up?

She held up a finger and sniffed, trying to get herself together, while the stranger patted and soothed her. Brody scowled at the man, who returned his scowl, measure for measure. It disconcerted him that this man had slipped under his radar. Not only was he living in Georgette’s attic, but he was touching her, comforting her. He would definitely be having a word with Elyse about it.

“It’s not your fault,” Georgette assured him, as if reading his mind. “I’m a grownup.”

He almost smiled a little, because she didn’t look like a grownup, huddled on the floor and crying. “Are people in town mean to you?”

She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Not mean, exactly. Just…” She glanced at Burke, as if trying to frame her response. “Dismissive. I wanted…” She paused again and swallowed. “I thought if I went to culinary school, it would be different,that I would go away and come back and everything would be magically different.”

“Why would you want it to be different?” Brody asked. This community was everything to them, the fabric of their lives. They wouldn’t have made it after their parents died, without the help of their neighbors.

“It’s different for us,” Georgette said, pointing between them. “They see you as capable, selfless, brave. Every good descriptor. I get the leftovers: helpless, handicapped, young, incompetent.”

“No one sees you as incompetent,” he insisted.

“Because no one actually sees me,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Do they see me as a full-fledged member of the business community? Do they realize and understand I’m a classically trained chef, capable of working in some of the priciest establishments on the planet? Do they know I chose to return here, that I had offers from restaurants all over the world? Do they understand that I’m not lacking in intelligence, just because I can’t hear what they’re saying?”

Brody’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. If he were honest, he’d never given it much thought. Georgette was Georgette. Of course people loved and accepted her, why wouldn’t they? But now, hearing and seeing it from her point of view, he began to understand how easily she’d been dismissed, overlooked, ignored. She’d never had a lot of friends in school, but Brody had blamed that on the rough years after losing their parents. Who wanted to make friends while they adjusted to being an orphan? Besides, she’d had him, and he had tried desperately to be enough. Clearly he hadn’t been. The shock of that hurt as much as being dumped by his long-term girlfriend had. Maybe he wasn’t the person he thought he was, maybe he was someone else, a person who hurt the people closest to him, for instance, who let them down when they needed him.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, but that was apparently the wrong thing because Georgette looked in danger of crying again.

“Please don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. You are an amazing brother, and I love you. Everyone loves you. Sometimes I want to be my own person, to be accepted for being me, not for being your sister, that’s all.”

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