Page 98 of Some Like It Scot
“What on earth?” Dad’s question likely voiced everyone else’s thoughts.
She’d seemed so happy.
What had gone wrong? The dancing?
My gaze shot to my brother. Calum?
“I think Katie might be a better lass for you than me, Uncle Graeme.” I blinked and looked from Lachlan to Mum and back.
“And why do you say that, lad?”
“Because you’re a faster runner than me.” He set his banjo down and shrugged. “And taller. And don’t mind a wee bit of crazy.”
Calum’s brows rose as if he wanted to laugh, and the nudge somehow set my feet in motion. I grabbed my jacket and car keys and ran out the door into the rain, searching for a sign of her. We’d left her bicycle at church because of the rain, so she had to be on foot.
I caught sight of her red mackintosh up the drive, farther than I imagined her capable of walking in such a short period of time. But shewasn’twalking. She was nearly running.
Away.
What had happened? Everything seemed to be going fine. Well, in fact. Mum had cooked one of her best meals. Dad brought in addedhumor and warmth. Calum was... Calum, but he wasn’t usually too off-putting, except when he lathered on the charm.
Eejit.
And I’d mostly behaved myself. My manners could always do with some improvement, but I’d not made a mess of things. Or so I thought.
Her pace had slowed by the time I pulled beside her in the car. I rolled down the window. “Katie.”
Which caused her to speed back up.
So did I. “Whatever it is, we can talk it through.”
She shook her head and walked faster, her shoulders shaking.
This was getting me nowhere, so I put the car in park and stepped out in the rain after her. “Did I do something to hurt you?”
Which was the most likely option.
She shook her head more fiercely, and her feet faltered because she turned around to face me, her eyes red-rimmed, tears mingling with rain on her face. My chest crashed from the sight.
“Your... your family is... wonderful.”
Not what I’d expected. “What?”
She sniffled, pinching her eyes closed. “Like... like a dream. Absolutely wonderful.”
“You’re greetin’ over how wonderful my family is?” Her brow creased and I rephrased. “My family made you weep?”
“No.” She gave a helpless shrug. “And yes.” She covered her eyes with one of her hands, and another sob shook her shoulders. “You... you can’t understand. I’ve... I’ve only imagined a place so warm and sweet as your family. Where parents love and respect each other. Where there’s... joy.”
I took another step nearer, trying to understand.
She looked up at me, the pain on her face nearly slicing my middle. “I don’t—”
“I know what it’s like to lose a sister.” Her words stilled my forwardmotion. “She... Sarah... she was nineteen and I was thirteen. First year of college for her, and a crazy drunk driver hit her head-on. In a moment she was gone.” The words poured out of her, as if she needed to say them. “And... and it’s hard enough to deal with the grief of a missing life. I know you understand that.” Her voice wavered, her gaze searching mine. “But what’s worse is never being able to talk about her because it will upset your fragile mother too much. And your dad can’t handle your mom’s emotions, so he just works more, leaving the kids to try and sort out an upside-down world.”
“Katie—”
“And your family... they... they’re healthy, even as they grieve. You talk about Greer and laugh as you share memories of her.” She raised her wet sleeve to her face. “Mom removed all of Sarah’s photos. All of them. And refused to talk about her, ever, because grieving in real time didn’t fit with her country club lifestyle. And if we did, Mom would break down on us and blame us for her response.”
