Page 62 of Like You Want It
“Susie.”
Fin’s use of Susie’s name is a rebuke, the word whipping across the space with a fury so startling I nearly drop my drink.
She eyes him, lets out a sigh, then glances at me. “Let’s just go find you a bathing suit, okay?”
I nod, though my eyes are still a bit wide. I look back at Fin, who stands ominously tense in the kitchen, his hands clutching the counter as he glares at his sister.
Then I look at Susie, feeling like the best thing I can do for both myself and her is get the two of us out of this room while Mr. Angrypants over there calms himself.
I get up off the couch and follow her out of the room. “What was that about?” I ask in a whisper as we ascend the stairs.
She shakes her head. “Fin is one of those guys who doesn’t know how to let anything go, is all.” Then she leads me down the hallway.
She couldn’t have been more vague if it was on purpose, but I bite my tongue.
“I love this house,” I say, trying to change the subject. “Is this where you guys grew up?”
“Oh definitely not,” she replies. “Well, okay kind of. We moved around a lot as kids when mom was in the military. Once mom left and started teaching at USC, we settled down for a few years up in Arcadia.”
I nod, familiar with the town near where we live now.
“I loved it there,” she continues. “We all did. It’s kind of where most of my happy memories are. But right before I started high school, mom got a job down here, so we moved again, and that’s when they bought this house.”
She pauses and looks back at me with a strained expression. “I don’t come down here a lot anymore, mostly because this area is where everything kind of fell apart for me. But sometimes, it still feels good to be home.”
I give her a sympathetic smile, but it probably makes me look more constipated than anything. My assumption is confirmed when Susie points out the upstairs guest bathroom, you know,in case you need it.
We pass an office and what Susie tells me is the second master suite, since her parents use the downstairs master due to her mom’s arthritis.
“I’d like to have a suite,” I say.
“Girl, your apartment is a suite. So is mine. We don’t have to share with anyone.”
I beam. “I can’t even tell you how much I love that perspective. Get ready for me to invite you over to mysuiteto watch a movie this week.”
She giggles, then gestures to the room we’ve stopped in front of. “This was my room in high school. Now it’s a guest room, but mom keeps all of the stuff from when I was younger in the closet,” she says, leading me into a room filled with dark oak furniture, a four-poster bed and beige bedding. “After I left Ephraim’s, she and dad drove to his house and collected anything of mine they could find. I don’t even want to think about what that was like for them. But it’s the only reason I still own anything. They’ve kept it all in here, but I guess now that I have a real place, I should move it up to mine. Give them their space back.”
What started as a quick information dump has rapidly shifted towards a depressing story, and I can see the desire Susie has in this moment to beat herself up.
Refusing to let her give in to the negativity that the past can bring, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Everything takes time, girlfriend. You’ll get all this stuff back at some point. You’re focusing on what’s important first, and that’s okay.”
She gives me a thankful smile and leans into my hug, takes a deep breath, and then starts snooping. She walks over to the dresser, opening the top drawer, closing it, and then going for the one beneath it. “I thought there were bathing suits in here,” she murmurs to herself, then steps away to look in the closet.
I reach out to close the dresser drawer that she left partially open, but my eyes snag on a framed photo that has been tucked under a few t-shirts.
A tall blonde in tight jeans and a cleavage-baring top stands tucked in to Fin’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist, a sassy smile on her face.
What startles me most about the picture is the absolutely massive smile on Fin. He looks a bit younger, probably early twenties, but he’s got that military haircut I’ve seen in photos from Susie’s apartment.
Damn does he look happy.
My eyes flick back to the woman, and I can’t help but wonder who she is. Clearly this was an important relationship or there wouldn’t be framed photos of the two of them still in his parents’ house, right?
She’s really pretty. One of those natural beauties who probably doesn’t have to wear any makeup to…
“Did you find one?”
Susie’s voice startles me into slamming the drawer shut, cutting off my view into a small piece of Fin’s life when he was younger.
