I laid there in a daze after he left, but then it hit me. His mother might be here. After that letter she sent me, I really didn’t want to see her, but life never gave me what I wanted. I hustled out of the bed and dressed as quickly as I could.
Clint’s voice seemed muffled. The female voice wasn’t, though, which told me it wasn’t his mother at the door.
“Seriously, Clint, go put some pants on. I brought donuts, you’re gonna brew coffees with your fancy machine, and I want answers.”
That voice sounded younger; it must be one of his sisters. I debated whether I could hide in the bedroom until they finished with breakfast and whatever ‘answers’ she wanted. When I put my knee on the bed, it creaked, and I cursed my rotten luck.
“You got somebody here? You have a woman? Here? Since—”
“Raegan, come on out, honey.”
“Rae... ‘Honey?’ Are you shitting me, hermano?” I realized it was Laura who was visiting.
Since I was still in the bedroom, I rolled my eyes at Laura using the Spanish word for brother. Aside from the episode at Mom’s house, I hadn’t seen her in a long time, but I knew she and Bronwyn had kept in touch until three years after Clint and I had split.
When I padded into the room, Laura had a guarded expression. At least she didn’t seem as angry as when she showed up at Mom’s.
Her eyes went to Clint. “Does Mamá know she’s here? And in your bedroom?”
He ran a hand through his hair and walked into the kitchen. “No. And you feel the need to rectify that, not much I can do about it. But I’ll remember it in about twelve weeks.”
My brows furrowed at such a specific timeline.
“What are you, Santa?” Laura asked.
Then I understood. Clint always gave his mother and sisters the best Christmas he possibly could. This stemmed from their deadbeat father, as far as I knew, but I had never asked because Clint hardly ever talked about his father.
I stared at his couch as thoughts of Christmas being three months away assaulted me. So many holidays I would have to face without my sister.
I felt eyes on me, and I looked up expecting to see Clint watching me, but it was Laura. She was a female version of Clint. Though, since she was the older sibling by two years, I supposed Clint was the male version of her. Her dark hair gleamed in the light and her eyes were the same vibrant shade of toffee like Clint’s. Some would say her nose had character, but I knew it was a point of contention between her, Clint, and their mother. When she was twelve, her father hit her hard enough to break her nose. They couldn’t afford to go have it set because Juanita had been pregnant with Erica at the time, so medical bills were piling up. It didn’t heal up right. She had to endure that for all her teenage years. Now she wore it like a badge of honor. I knew because Bronwyn had asked her point-blank why she didn’t get a nose job.
“Raegan. Aside from reuniting with my brother, how are things?” Laura asked.
Her tone wasn’t spiteful, which was the only indicator her question held genuine concern.
I gave a small shrug. “If you really want to know, things are surreal at best and horrible at worst. When I think Wynnie’s death has sunk in, something else turns up to freshen the pain, if you will.”
She nodded, but her facial expression said she really didn’t know what I was going through.
The sound of Clint’s sigh shifted my gaze to him in the kitchen. He was leaning into an arm braced on the counter by the coffee machine. Since he was only wearing his boxers, it struck me, I’d been robbed last night. He controlled everything, and I had no opportunity to lick my way from his sternum down his happy trail to his generous cock. For that matter, I noticed he had moved from a four-pack when we were together to sporting a borderline eight-pack.
He opened his mouth to say something, but his cell phone rang and not a second later, so did mine.
I knew that wasn’t a coincidence, and I scurried to my purse.
My phone indicated Mom was calling and my stomach sank. “Mom? Is everything okay?”
“Everything would be fine if Juanita would stop demanding to know where you are.”
“What?” I breathed.
“You heard me. Comes up here, claiming she wants to apologize for that awful letter. Pushes her way in here. Assumes Gabe is your no-good slimeball ex-husband, as if she doesn’t know you got divorced.”
Mom didn’t need to work herself up like this, so I cut into her tirade. “Okay, Mom. It’s all right. Why don’t you—”
I paused when I heard Laura’s loud snort. Then I heard Clint saying, “No, Mamá, I didn’t forget what you said. Will you calm down, por favor?”
“Why don’t I what, Raegan? Don’t tell me to take a deep breath or some shit, but if you got ideas for this situation, I’m all ears.”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes for a moment before I exhaled. “There’s only one thing to do, Mom. Tell her I’m at Clint’s.”
Mom’s outrage was palpable even over the phone. “That’s all you got, smart girl? I already did that! She’s dead set that I accept her apology, which I don’t want to do. But with her in my house, I have to accept whatever she says.”
I fought laughter. “Mom. She wrote the letter to me. I feel sure she’s there to apologize to me.”
“Well, it was me who had to put your pieces back together. Hell, if she hadn’t written that damn letter, Trey Garrity wouldn’t have gotten his slimy mitts on you.”
She said his name like it was a venereal disease. That wasn’t entirely wrong. In hindsight, I was lucky I caught on to his bullshit when I did.
As I
