“Don’t ever touch your sister like that again!” Dad shouted. “Do you hear me?”
Brian pushed Dad in one swift move. Dad didn’t react. I think he already regretted what he’d done, pouncing on Brian like that, even if he was defending me.
Brian stared at all three of us, taking in several replenishing breaths before speaking. He looked at Dad. “If you touch me like that again, I’ll kill you,” he said. He stomped up the stairs, leaving us all in silence, each one of us catching our breath.
I didn’t think Brian meant his threat, and I’m sure he regretted saying it. Apart from anything else, because Dad would be dead within six months.
Twenty-Two
Now
We need to get to the cabin soon. I don’t have to google the forecast to know a storm is settling in. One of those quick, typical spring squalls, but I fear too many fallen branches will block the narrow driveway leading to our lodge. Danny and Violet shake hands before he enters the car. He sits for a moment, taking a breath before he starts the ignition.
“Do you want to tell me what happened in there?” he asks.
“I just got a little woozy. It’s not a big deal.” I prop my feet on the dash. “Violet shouldn’t have called you.”
“Yes, she should have.” He starts the car and rumbles out of the near-empty parking lot. “And I should have come with you. You fainted, Della. Something must have set you off.”
“I’m fine,” I say, looking out the window. Tiny drops of water sprinkle the glass.
I don’t want to tell Danny that Mom mentioned Brian. Bringing it up will give Brian more attention than he’s worth. Even I don’t know why I had the physical reaction I did. I remember feeling like I was falling, and then Violet was there, helping me off the floor. It’s probably connected to my sick spell this morning.
We pull into a pharmacy parking lot. “I’m going to get you some Tylenol before we head up the mountain,” Danny says. I know he’s trying to shake off his worry and salvage the weekend.
“I’ll go in,” I say, unhooking my seat belt. “Need anything?”
Before he can protest, I’m out of the car. The chilly breeze wooshes past, and I hustle inside. I feel as though I’ve already ruined our weekend. I shouldn’t have insisted on visiting Mom. I’m stressed enough with everything happening at Victory Hills.
I pick up some Tylenol before moving on to the vitamin aisle. I usually take a multivitamin but ran out while we were in Hilton Head. It’s the only change in routine that might account for my funk. That, and the introduction of Zoey into my life, but I’m trying not to think about her.
I close my eyes and imagine it’s still spring break. I remember the sun against my skin, the saltwater in my hair, Danny’s hand holding mine. It’s the last time I felt like life was in balance. As I exhale, I scan the plethora of pills promising to make you healthy and strong. I choose a bottle and start reading the contents. As I put it back, I realize they’re prenatals.
I think back to the beach. I’d fretted over starting my period that week and was thankful when it held off. That was… three weeks ago. I rub my forehead, like I’m not doing the math right. Surely I couldn’t be three weeks late? That never happens. Had I been so preoccupied I hadn’t noticed? I think of how tired I’ve felt since our return. Nauseous. I’ve been stressing about Zoey and thinking about Brian. But what if there’s another explanation for my symptoms? I move to the next aisle and look around a bit before making my purchases.
We’ve stayed at this place before. It’s a small one-bedroom with a fireplace in the living room and a hot tub on the wrap-around porch. The perfect setting for a romantic weekend, and yet I feel I’ve already ruined that. And now I’ve got other worries on my mind.
I grab my luggage from the backseat and slide my pharmacy bag inside the front zipper.
“You’re in a hurry,” Danny says. He’s still standing at the back of the car, looping grocery bags across his forearm.
“Bathroom,” I say, nodding my head at the locked front door.
“Key should be under that rock by the left,” Danny says. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” I say for the hundredth time. I skid the rock over with my foot and bend to retrieve the key. The door creaks open, and I see the familiar sight of our rented living room. The stone fireplace reaches up to the paneled ceiling which makes the room forever smell of pine. I walk down the narrow hallway leading to the bedroom. I throw my bags on the bed, immediately opening the front pocket to make sure my pharmacy bag is still inside. Of course it is. But now I feel all fidgety and forgetful, like maybe I’m making something out of nothing.
Am I supposed to just take the test now? Should I tell Danny first? No, I don’t want to do that. No sense, when it could be a false alarm. I’ll take the test first. I run my fingers through my hair and stare at the vaulted ceiling. The fan spins slowly above me. I don’t even have to go to the bathroom yet! Maybe I am just losing my mind. It feels that way a little bit.
When I re-enter the living space, Danny stands at the counter preparing a marinade. He stops what he’s doing, walks over and kisses my forehead. “Maybe you should come by the office when we get back in town. Run some bloodwork.”
“I don’t need all that,” I say, hopping onto one of the barstools. “You know how anxious I get about visiting
