Page 53 of Fall Hard

I jumped, startled into action as I hurried forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek as I hugged her lightly. I pulled away faster than she probably wanted, but being here in this place had me slipping back into old patterns already. I didn’t want to lose the person I was becoming. Bryn held out her hand once I let go and my mom took it before guiding us into the dining room.

“The food’s nearly ready, so Bryn won’t you take a seat? Olivia, I could use some help bringing the food out.”

I nodded, following her into the kitchen and was unsurprised when she stopped me with a hand on my arm. I looked at her warily, wondering what she wanted to say to me in private that she wouldn’t say in front of Bryn.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come down to see you before, sweetheart. I was busy working.”

Was that it? I nodded. “No worries.” I made to turn away and the hand on my arm tightened.

“I need you to know, that I’ve been doing a lot of work.” Was she bragging? Was this going to turn into a lecture into my own work ethic? “On myself,” she added and looked at me expectantly.

My brow furrowed as I thought over her words. “Am I here because you want me to be? Or because this is some kind of step in a programme?”

“Don’t be crass.” She rolled her eyes and I shrank back. “I just wanted you to know that despite everything that happened with that… woman, we forgive you.”

I felt slightly queasy as I looked into her earnest-eyes. “How big of you,” I managed and she nodded with a small smile, clearly not sensing my sarcasm. Nothing had really changed, regardless of what my dad said or what they were telling themselves. Maybe on that fundamental level, people just couldn’t change. I had been an idiot for letting Bryn talk me into this.

I took the dish she was holding out and brought it into the dining room, numb. I must have looked slightly dazed because Bryn was half way out of her seat by the time I reached the table.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

I motioned for her to sit down as I set the dish on the silver placemat in the center. The smell of it finally hit me and my stomach growled. Lasagna. My mother’s recipe.

“It’s fine.”

Bryn frowned as she slowly sat back down and I slipped into my own seat, back ramrod straight.

My dad made his way down the stairs, footsteps quiet against the light gray carpet, and headed straight into the kitchen to retrieve a stack of dishes that he put delicately onto each place setting.

“Sit, sit, sit,” my mom fussed as she walked into the room with another plate full of garlic bread and we all did as instructed as she served up the food. “You’re not a veggie are you, Bryn?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Oh, please. Call me Melissa.”

I grimaced and took a sip of water to cover it before passing my plate over so she could dish some lasagna up. “It looks great, Mom.”

“I know it’s your favorite,” she said with a smile and I looked away from her, instead focusing on the cream embossed-floral wallpaper opposite me that had been up since I was a kid. “So your dad told me you’re definitely leaving Radclyffe?”

I nodded. “Yes. I’ve applied to be a trainee at the local shelter, I’m just waiting to hear back.”

My mom laughed and then blinked. “Oh, you’re serious.”

I clenched my jaw, knowing that I would probably be replaying the derision in that laugh over and over again in my head for the next few days. Bryn’s eyes met mine, concern evident on her face as she watched me. I shook my head at her slightly. It was fine. This was fine.

I automatically took my dad’s hand to my right and my mother’s on my left, ready for grace and then cleared my throat. “Ah, Bryn, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” she said, reaching for my parent’s hands and listening intently when they began their prayer.

“Thank you for allowing us to grow, to heal, and let us all join together here today to become a strong, loving family again. Amen.” My dad’s voice was a comforting rumble but I wanted to laugh. Grow and heal? Become strong and loving again? The only thing that had become stronger, as far as I could tell, was my mother’s propensity to buy her own bullshit.

“What do you study, Bryn?” My dad smiled as he reached for some garlic ciabatta, clearly trying to steer the conversation into safer waters.

“I’m training to be a lawyer.”

“That’s wonderful,” my dad mumbled around his food and my mom frowned at him before turning her attention to Bryn.

“See, Olivia? A proper degree and a proper aspiration. Maybe Bryn will be a good influence on you.”

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