Playing the Part

“Kinda like babysitting, but for old people,” Carys said.

Lindy laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. But I ain’t on diaper duty, that’s for sure. That job can go to Lora.”

Carys’s expression mirrored Lilah’s as they both said ewwww in unison.

“I can’t believe you went there,” Lilah said, fighting a laugh. “God, Lindy. You’re so gross.”

“Hey, you were thinking it, too. Don’t give me that,” Lindy said.

Carys grinned at the warmth between the two sisters, wanting to bask in that sensation for as long as possible. Grieving for her mom was hard, but the loneliness sucking at her insides felt worse. Being around Lindy and her quiet yet mysterious twin seemed to ease that awful feeling inside. “Do you miss your grams a lot?” she asked.

Lilah’s expression turned wistful. “Oh, yes. Sometimes it’s a weird comfort to pretend that she’s just around the corner or at the store or something like that so I don’t have to acknowledge the fact that she’s gone.”

Carys considered that for a minute and slowly came to understand. “Sometimes I close my eyes and pretend that my mom is in the other room, in the kitchen or something, making dinner or washing dishes. For a second it makes me feel better, but then I remember she’s gone and then I feel worse.”

“Well, imagine if you got locked in that feeling before you realized it was all in your imagination,” Lindy said. “That’s where Pops is at. He’s locked in that feel-good place, and when we remind him that she’s gone, it kicks him into the sad place but the sad place scares him because he doesn’t understand. Ultimately, it’s just better if we leave him to whatever he believes. It’s not hurting anyone and frankly, it seems a small concession to keep things running more or less smoothly.”

Carys nodded. Her dad would have a fit if she constantly wandered around having conversations with her dead mother. It might be the straw that broke the camel’s back, as her mom used to say. “What was your grams like?” she asked.

At that both Lindy and Lilah shared a smile, but it was Lindy who spoke first. “Well, she was a kick in the pants. Strong like Lora, feisty like me, talented like Lilah. I guess we all got a piece of her personality.” Lindy cast a speculative look Carys’s way. “She would’ve loved you. You have just the right amount of piss and vinegar that Grams found amusing.”

Carys grinned. “Really?”

Lindy nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. Grams had a habit of gravitating toward extremes. She said love or hate them, they were never boring. I think the only thing Grams found more tedious than boring people was when others insisted she do things their way.”

“Yep. The quickest way to get Grams to do the exact opposite—”

“—was to insist she do it whatever way she didn’t agree with. She could be a little contrary,” Lindy said, adding with a slight lift of her brow, “I guess I come by it honestly.”

Lilah laughed. “Yes, well, you take it to another level. Even Grams agreed, you were just downright difficult by nature.”

Lindy pretended to take offense but Carys could tell they were just joking. She giggled at the sisters and wished for the umpteenth time she hadn’t been an only child. It probably would’ve sucked less if she’d been able to share her grief with a sister or brother, even. But she’d never know because her mom was dead and it wasn’t as if her dad was in a hurry to get married again—thank God.

“So what was your mom like?” Lindy asked, swinging the conversation back around to Carys. “Was she like you?”

Carys shook her head and grinned. “No. She was nice.”

Lindy cracked up and playfully slapped Carys on the arm. “Not bad, kid. There’s hope for you yet. So, seriously, tell us about your mom. We’ve got time to kill before dinner, right, Li?”

“Sure,” Lilah said, sipping at her smoothie. “I’d love to hear about your mom.”

Carys took a deep breath and cast a nervous look Lindy’s way. She’d never really talked about her mom to anyone before. It was something she kept locked away in a private place where no one else could judge, or touch. Oddly, she trusted Lindy and her sister Lilah. Somehow she knew they were genuine, unlike the dumb shrink her dad had hired right after Carys’s mom had died. Dr. Dippity-Do, as Carys had privately named him when she’d seen how stiff his hair was from all the product he’d gooped on, had been a complete and total idiot as far Carys was concerned. He’d always spoken to her in a low, monotone voice that she supposed he thought was soothing, but really it made Carys want to bounce a basketball off his head. So, yeah, that hadn’t ended well. The doc had diagnosed Carys with a personality disorder and had prescribed medication. Thankfully, her dad had agreed the doc was off his rocker and hadn’t insisted on any more shrinks.

“My mom was supersupportive of everything I wanted to do, even if it was stupid,” Carys admitted a bit shyly. “I mean, she never rained on my parade by saying something negative. I always knew I could tell her anything and I miss that.” She glanced at the sisters. “Was your mom like that?”

Lilah frowned and Lindy answered with a sigh, “Not really. Our mom was...I don’t know, timid. She was quiet and reserved, from what I remember. We were

really young when she died. Lora might remember something different about her, but for us she always seemed sad.”

“Why?”

“Well, our dad left and it was hard for her to take. It really threw her for a loop. I don’t think she ever recovered from it.”

“Oh,” Carys said. Her father would’ve never left her mom. At least, she didn’t think he would. He worked too much to spend time looking for anyone else, at the very least. “I’m sorry.”

“Ancient history, kiddo,” Lindy said brightly, though Carys heard the fake happiness in Lindy’s tone. Lilah must’ve caught it, too, for she sent her sister a quick look. But Lindy had moved on, saying, “It sounds like even though your time with your mom was cut short, at least you had some quality time with her, right? You have great memories to hold on to.”

Carys nodded but it was hard to be grateful when there was so much she still needed her mom to be around for. “She’ll never see me get married. Or go to college,” Carys said quietly. “I won’t have anyone to call when I need, you know, advice about stuff. I mean, it’s not like I can ask my dad about girl stuff. When I asked my dad if I could get a training bra he turned six different shades of red and then said I didn’t need one yet. How does he know? My friend Yasmine said if you don’t get a bra right when your boobs start growing, they’ll sag like an old lady’s. I don’t want old lady boobs!”

Lindy didn’t even try to hold back her laughter and let loose with a huge guffaw. “Old lady boobs! Ha! I remember thinking that, too.” After a few more chuckles, Lindy said, “Listen, hon, your boobs are going to be fine. But if you really want a training bra, I think I could take you out shopping for one, though it might give your dad a heart attack if he knew. But take it from me, bras are a pain. Which is why I rarely wear one.”

“And why your boobs are going to hang down to your knees by the time you’re thirty,” Lora said, surprising them all when she announced her presence behind them.

“They will not.” Lindy sniffed as if offended. “For those of us who weren’t cursed with porn star cans, we don’t have to worry about gravity as much, so there.”

“Lucky you,” Lora remarked drily. “Hey, while you ladies are out here enjoying the sunset, Celly’s been busy making dinner. If you’re hungry, dinner will be served in the formal dining room.”

“Ohh, the formal dining room,” Lindy said in a pseudo-British accent that made Carys giggle. “So fancy these days! In my apartment, I have a formal dining recliner that also serves as a guest bed for when friends crash for the night.”

Lora grimaced and rolled her eyes while Lilah laughed, too. “Sounds divine. Dinner is ready in five.”

“You hungry?” Lindy asked Carys. “Cuz there’s always room for one more in the Bell household.”

Carys nodded eagerly even though that smoothie had filled her up. She wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to hang with Lindy and her crazy family. It was far more interesting than anything happening back at her place, where her dad would spend all night on the phone or on his laptop doing whatever it was he did aside from pay attention to her. “I’m starved,” Carys said, grinning. And it didn’t even matter what was on the menu.

* * *

GABE SCRUBBED HIS face and tossed his phone, tired and frustrated by the turn of events. A simple phone call had turned into a major time-suck and now it was much too late to take Carys to the beach. Likely, she’d already returned and was now hiding out in her room, like an angry little chinchilla just waiting for the right opportunity to snap his fingers off.

Even worse, though, was he had a feeling she’d given up on him way before he’d given her the chance to believe he’d keep his word.

But damn it, it wasn’t so easy to just drop everything when you were the boss. Livelihoods were balanced on his ability to make profitable decisions for the company. He wished he could make Carys understand. Ahhh, hell. Justifications, that’s all they were. He’d let her down—again.

Time to face the music.

He went to her room and knocked. “Carys, honey? You hungry? Want to grab a bite? You name the place.”

No answer.

He sighed. Not this again. The silent treatment was getting old. He tried again. “Carys, come on. You know I can’t always control how long a business call lasts. Trust me, if I’d had my choices, I’d rather have spent the time with my feet in the sand with you.” More silence. He frowned and cautiously opened the door, only to find it empty. He swore under his breath. Now what? He returned to the living room and grabbed his phone from the sofa where he’d tossed it. He dialed her phone. With a spike of alarm, he heard the muffled music of her ringtone sound from somewhere in her room. Damn. She didn’t have her phone. Don’t panic. She was probably...with Lindy.

Somehow, intuitively, he knew his daughter had sought out the company of the one person he’d rather she steered clear of.

“Carys...if you’re with that woman I’m going to tan your little hide,” he muttered, though it was an idle threat. It was likely why she was such a holy terror. He and Charlotte had never spanked Carys; it hadn’t been their parenting style. And now, with hindsight being twenty-twenty, he wasn’t above admitting maybe if he’d given her a little wap on the butt to put the fear of God into her when she’d been younger... Now it was too late. “Charlotte,” he said to the ceiling, hoping his wife was up there, watching, listening. “I need a little help here.... She’s twice as stubborn as I ever was. How did you handle it?”

“And here I thought only my pops talked to people who weren’t there.”

The voice at his back caused him to jump. He saw Lindy framed in the open doorway with a smirk on her face.