Page 53 of Tell Me When It's Over

Katherine, besides being an egomaniac with a personality that rivals Harry’s, is close-lipped. Unwilling to share more than necessary. I know that she loves money and material things, never turns down a gift from my sperm donor, and talks down to Leighton any chance she gets. She’s a selfish bitch that Lenny loves, which tells me the reason her daughter doesn’t enjoy birthdays is because she never had the chance to.

“I don’t really…” She winces at her cracked tone, and Mia’s genuine smile instantly drops as her hand reaches out to brush Len’s. Clearing her throat, Leighton shrugs. “Mom is usually busy working or something, so sometimes one of our neighbors would bake me a cake. Last year, I went over to the store and got the ingredients to make it myself because I didn’t really have anyone in our building that I was close with like other times.”

She had to make her own fucking birthday cake? Christ.

I’m taken aback when I see an easy smile tilt the corners of her lips. “I shared it with the little boy next door once I found out we had the same birthday. He was only staying with his aunt and uncle for the week, but they didn’t have the money to throw him a party. It was sort of nice to eat our weight in chocolate without having to share it with the adults.”

Both Mia and I stare at her in wonder. When she realizes, she blushes and looks at her lap, picking at her yellow nail polish. “It isn’t that big of a deal. It’s just another day.”

She squeaks when Mia hugs her from behind, squeezing her tightly. “You’re too young to say that, Leighton. We’re going to do something special for you this year. No more baking your own cakes.”

“I like baking though.”

“If she wants to bake a cake,” I counter, eyeing Mia, “then we will. Together. Chocolate, I’m guessing?”

Mia snorts. “Duh.” She feeds Lenny’s addiction, slipping her chocolate candies any chance she gets. “Our little Lenny Lou is going to have the best damn homemade cake she’s ever had.”

“Lenny Lou?” I repeat, snickering.

Even Leighton scrunches her brows.

“If you get to call her Lele, then I get to give her a nickname too. You can’t deny that it’s cute as hell. Right, Len?”

“Lenny Lou,” Leighton tests, like she’s weighing it on her ton

gue. “Nobody’s used my middle name for anything before. Ms. Wynona was the first one to call me Lenny regularly because she said it reminded her of an old client named Lenora Louise, or Lenny for short. She said she was spunky like me.”

The name sounds familiar. “The PR person who used to tell you stories?”

A head nod. “I like it,” she tells Mia quietly, reaching up and resting her hand on our sister’s. I file away her lack of details on this Ms. Wynona chick, saving it to ask about later.

I smile at my two sisters. They’re the only two I wanted to spend the day with, so I’m glad our parents are out doing God knows what.

I wrap my fingers around my glass. “I think we should make this a tradition. Every year for our birthdays, we’ll spend it together. Homemade cake, presents, and a movie.”

They both smile in return. My littlest sister whispers, “I think that sounds perfect.”

“Me too,” Mia agrees, pecking the back of Lenny’s head before stepping back.

We finish our cake, clean the living room, and watch another movie. Leighton falls asleep between me and Mia on the couch, so when the movie ends, I pick her up and carry her to the guest bedroom beside mine. She stirs slightly before burying her face in the crook of my neck, letting out a content sigh right before I deposit her on the bed.

When I pull the covers over her, she snuggles into the pillow and murmurs something that I take to mean “thank you” before falling back into unconsciousness.

Mia is at the door when I turn around, a sleepy smile on her own face. “She’s the best thing that’s happened to this family in a while, huh?”

Even I have to admit that Harry has been less cold since Leighton’s been around. He’s more willing to ask questions and listen without being as much of a judgmental dick. He doesn’t grumble or remark when she does something that is outside of a Bishop “norm” like refuse his money or join an elite club at Saint Michael’s. She’s herself, and even if he’s used to getting his way when it comes to shaping his children, he doesn’t push her to conform.

Maybe he knows she won’t.

Still, there’s something that’s nagged at me a little more every day since Lenny and Katherine have been here—the way her mother acts toward her, the look in my father’s eyes when he studies the young girl like he’s silently wondering something. There have been very few times when my gut is wrong, and the heaviness settling into it makes me wonder if I’m missing something that Harry and her mother already know.

“Yeah,” I agree, letting go of the prickly feeling while walking out of our sister’s room and draping an arm around Mia’s shoulders. “She is.”

The following week, Lenny’s birthday is spent at her condo with Mia and I attempting to bake her a chocolate cake from scratch. Minus some burnt edges, it doesn’t look or taste awful. Her mother even joins us for a slice before kissing her daughter and saying she has to go. I’m surprised she even bothered staying for as long as she did, much less adding to the conversation we had while laughing it up in the kitchen. When she asked what we had planned today, I wanted to ask her the same thing—it’s a weekend. What could she possibly have to do that’s more important than spending time with her daughter on her damn birthday?

According to one of my buddies, she got canned from the job Harry set her up with. That takes skill considering most people wouldn’t fuck with a guy like him, but apparently she wasn’t “secretary material” whatever the hell that means. Makes me wonder if she purposely got fired, or if Harry himself had something to do with it. Something tells me, Katherine would rather play trophy wife than make a living for herself anyway.

Setting the empty plate down, I focus on the black-haired girl sitting across from me. “Has your mother said anything about Harry recently?”

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