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Sandy awoke the same way she had for the last couple of days—overtired and with an annoying, unsatisfied ache in her core. She huffed and got out of bed, already irritated and the day had only just begun.
Before him, she used to have dreams of acquiring A-list accounts, a corner office in a downtown high-rise, and an apartment overlooking Central Park. She still did, but now those dreams also included him coming to her private office and locking the door for a one-on-one meeting. Or showing up at her swanky place, unannounced, and them having hot wall sex because they couldn’t keep their hands, lips, tongues, and other body parts away from each other long enough to make it to the bedroom.
It wasn’t the dreams she minded so much as the inability to see them to the end. Thus far, every scene had ended abruptly because she’d woken herself up with her own moans.
She brushed her teeth with more force than necessary, splashed cold water on her face, then scowled at the mirror, silently willing that flushed, just-had-sex glow to fade. She hadn’t just had sex, but those erotic dreams were hot enough to be damn close. Perhaps because they weren’t based solely on her imagination.
As for the dark circles, they came from lack of sleep. When she wasn’t dreaming of hot desk and wall sex, she was tossing and turning, trying to figure out what she was going to do. In less than a week, she was scheduled to start her new job at Metzgar and Fitz.
She tossed on some yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt and went on a quest for caffeine, stopping short in the doorway when she saw Kevin already there. After seven days, it wasn’t as much of a shock as it had been initially.
Kevin sat quietly at the table, fully dressed, face washed, hair combed neatly to the side, wielding a spoon. A box of Cheerios and a jar of peanut butter sat in front of him along with a reusable water bottle. Just like every other morning, a heavy canvas backpack was strapped to his shoulders, the kind one might find in an Army surplus store. At his feet was the worn duffel that contained exactly six pairs of underwear, six white T-shirts, six striped polos, six pairs of socks, and six pairs of Dockers.
Sandy knew this because, yesterday, she’d found him standing in front of her washing machine, naked. That was when she learned that Kevin had exactly seven days’ worth of outfits and had run out.
She watched in quiet fascination as he dipped the spoon in the peanut butter and then pressed the resulting glob into the box of cereal. When he pulled it back out, the cereal clung to the coated spoon, a perfect-sized mouthful. She’d offered him a bowl and milk the first few days, but he’d declined.
Her half-brother was quiet, docile, and cared for himself with a stark minimalism that made her heart ache. In some way, he reminded her of Trace. He’d never wanted to ask for anyone’s help either.
Sandy couldn’t help but wonder what Trace would have thought of Kevin. How he would have handled the situation had he still been around. She missed her older brother terribly but especially at times like these, when she felt so far out of her element.
She’d tried to start several conversations with Kevin, but he wasn’t much of a talker. She hadn’t pushed, foolishly believing that he wouldn’t be around for very long for it to matter.
She should have known better.
It had been a week since her father walked out the door, swearing that he’d only be gone a few days. Part of her wanted to believe that he would be back, just as he’d said, and that it was just taking longer than expected, but in her gut, she knew.
He wasn’t coming back. And she should have listened to her instincts instead of her heart.
Kevin hadn’t figured it out yet though. He continued to get up every morning, dress, and pack as if he was waiting for their father to walk through the door at any moment.
Does he really believe that, she wondered, or is it just wishful thinking on his part?
With a sigh, Sandy moved into the kitchen and toward the coffeemaker and the fresh pot of coffee it held, thankful she’d gone with the deluxe model with the digital set-ahead timer option.
“Good morning, Kevin.”
He didn’t answer.
She pulled the biggest mug she had out of the cupboard and filled it nearly to the top, allowing just enough space for her favorite flavored creamer, and then she sat down at the table. Kevin’s gaze remained down, though he’d stopped eating.
“Kevin, we need to talk.”
He paused and put the spoon down. He didn’t look at her, choosing instead to stare at the table in front of him.
“Have you heard from Dad?”
He shook his head.
“Neither have I. And that’s a problem because I’m moving to the city in a few days, and we’ve got to figure out what we’re going to do. Is there anyone else you can stay with? An aunt or uncle? Grandparents? Friends? Neighbors?”
At each suggestion, Kevin shook his head, and Sandy felt her heart sink further. Surely, there had to be someone who could help. The clock was ticking.
Long minutes passed in awkward silence. Kevin checked his watch and then closed up his box of cereal and his jar of peanut butter. After dutifully washing and drying his spoon, he picked up his duffel and moved into the living room where, if today was like the ones before it, he’d wait patiently for his father to come pick him up.
Sandy dropped her face into her hands and exhaled heavily. She didn’t want to be the one to tell Kevin that their father was a selfish, lying bastard who only thought of himself.
A soft knock sounded at the back door. Sandy looked up to find Lenny there. She invited him in. He was freshly showered and dressed in the tan uniform of the Sumneyville PD.
He waved his hand toward the coffeepot. “Do you mind?”
“Help yourself,” she told him.
He ambled to the counter, grabbed a mug, and poured himself a cup. “Is he in there?” he asked quietly, inclining his head toward the living room.
“Yes.” She sighed. “He really believes my father’s coming back.”
Lenny leaned back against the counter. “Maybe he will,” he suggested unconvincingly.
“History suggests he won’t.”
“People can change.”
Sandy snorted. “Maybe some people do, but my father’s not one of them. He’s the same self-serving prick he’s always been.”
Lenny tilted his head to the side. “If you believe that, then why did you agree to let Kevin stay?”
“Because maybe a part of me had hoped ...” She shook her head. “A really stupid part. But it’s been a week, Len, and we both know he’s not coming. What the hell am I supposed to do, huh? I should be on my way to New York right now, getting settled into my new place, preparing for my new job. You know, the one I’ve been working my ass off to get for the last ten years?”
Lenny sipped his coffee and avoided her eyes. “I don’t know, Sandy. Maybe this is fate’s way of keeping you around.”
Another snort. “No, Len. My dream job in the city is fate’s way of making up for all the crappy stuff it’s already dumped on me. Stuff which, by the way, is also my father’s fault. This is ... well, I don’t know what this is, other than a hot mess.” She looked up at him hopefully. “No luck tracking him down?”
Lenny shook his head.
“Goddamn it!” She slapped her palm on the table in frustration, keeping her voice low so Kevin wouldn’t hear. “I am not going to let him screw this up for me.”
“You’ve got a couple more days.”
“Yeah.” But in her heart, she already knew it wasn’t going to be enough.