Daniel curls up his lip, shaking his head. “I knew you wouldn’t listen. You never listen, Audrey.” He turns away and grips the edge of his dresser, his body rigid as silence fills the space between us. Panic and worry swirl inside my brain; my hands tremble.
“What’s going on?” I ask him. “I don’t understand what you’re—”
“Do you remember your birthday?” he asks quietly, ignoring my question. At first I think it’s a dig, but he goes on. “The one before Mom died. You didn’t want a party, but she decided to throw you a surprise one anyway. She wanted to do something special even though she knew you’d hate her for it.”
He devastates me. The entire world breaks open and hurt floods in. Daniel doesn’t talk about our mother. I didn’t know he still could. For the longest time I thought I wanted him to mention her in some way, acknowledge her. But I didn’t consider how desperate it would make me feel when he did. How much it would make me miss her again.
“It was the worst birthday party that’s ever been,” I say with a rush of sentimentality. We both choke out a laugh, but there’s agony in the sound.
“Seven of your closest friends,” he says, looking back at me. His face is wet with tears, his pale eyes bloodshot. He sniffles hard and brushes his fist over his cheek. “Which basically meant Ryan and a group of kids you hadn’t spoken to since junior high.”
“I still don’t know how she found their numbers,” I say, and then bite down hard on my lip to keep it from quivering. Is this therapeutic? Can it be when it hurts so much?
Daniel leans back against the dresser. “I was bringing you home from a driving lesson—which, by the way,” he adds, smiling, “you were horrible at. Then we walked in and everyone jumped out. Mom’s face . . .” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears streaming down. I start to sob. “She was so fucking happy,” he says. “She was so proud of herself.”
For a moment mine and Daniel’s cries are the only sound in the room. We’re heartbroken. We’re lost without her. I gather myself, swallowing down thickening saliva. “I turned and walked back onto the porch,” I say, continuing the story. “I was embarrassed. She followed me out and asked if I was mad at her. I said yes. I told her I was going to murder you both.”
“You had fun, though,” Daniel says. “After you came in, after Ryan calmed you down. Mom had been prepping lasagna because she knew it was your favorite. Only she forgot there was still a pizza box on the rack from the night before, and when she tried to preheat the oven, she nearly burned down the entire kitchen.”
“Do you remember the flames shooting out of there?” I ask, laughing through my tears. “Ryan and I spent fifteen minutes waving a dishcloth in front of the smoke alarm, until you finally came in and hit it with the broom to knock it off the wall.”
“The oven was ruined,” Daniel says. “So she dumped the lasagna in the trash and ordered another pizza. Deep dish, so the candles would stand up in it.” He smiles sadly. “But she forgot to buy candles, and the only one she could find was a half-burned number eight that was in the junk drawer for years. But we lit it. And we sang.
“Best birthday you ever had,” he says. “Hell, best birthday I ever had.”
I close my eyes, the ache bleeding from my heart down to my toes. We both know my mother wasn’t perfect, even if the memories I’ve allowed the past few months portray her that way. She would yell, that completely unhinged kind of yell that would rattle the glasses in the cupboards. One time during a heated argument she asked if I was stupid, and I slammed my door in her face. And there was that time she called my dad an asshole in the car, when we were on our way home from dinner, because he had criticized her father.
But then she was wonderful. She’d instinctively know when to make brownies or pick us up from school to go to a movie. She’d give Daniel dating advice and taught me how to put on mascara so I didn’t get spider lashes. She was my mother. She was my mother and I’ll never see her again no matter how badly I want to. I don’t think there is a more helpless feeling than that.
“Why are you doing this, Daniel?” I ask finally. “Why talk about her now?”
“Because I want you to hold on to those things,” he says. “I don’t ever want you to forget that it was good sometimes. It was fucking perfect. And no matter what happens, that won’t change.”
I start to wipe away my tears, my adrenaline rushing in. “What do you mean?” I ask in a hoarse voice. “What’s going to happen?”
Daniel puts his palm over his eyes for a moment; his shoulders sag. By the time he straightens again, his face has hardened. Gone cold. The air in the room deflates. “I’m not going to Elko with you, Audrey,” he says. “I’m staying at the Ruby.”
I should ask him if he’s joking, because in the regular world my brother wouldn’t abandon me. He would stick with me even if it meant a few months in our grandmother’s house.
“You can’t,” I say weakly. “You can’t do this to me.”
He tightens his lips, taking too long to answer. “It’s done.”
“But why?” Tears sputter between my lips. I’m going to completely lose it—this isn’t possible. He wouldn’t do this! “Is it because of Catherine?” I shout, jumping to my feet. “You don’t even know her! I won’t forgive you,” I say, nearing hysterics. “I’ll never forgive you if you do this!”
“This isn’t about Catherine,” he states. “You’re leaving, Aud. Dad wants you to stay until tomorrow, but then you’re out of here. Without hesitation. Do you understand? You’ll be fine at Grandma Nell’s—you’ll start over. It’s time to let go of all of this. You don’t have to—”
“Stop being an idiot!” I scream. My head aches from crying, my body is trembling. I’m afraid I’ll hyperventilate if I don’t leave soon. Of all people, I never thought Daniel would leave me. “You can’t stay here!”
“You’re not my mother,” he says darkly. “Stop acting like her.”
Silence. I sway on my feet, bulldozed by his words. Too sickened to be angry. Daniel exhales, seeing the hurt on my face, and takes a step toward me.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “But if I—” The phone next to the bed rings loudly, startling us both. Daniel makes no move to answer it, and the ringing comes again—longer and shriller. My brother clenches his jaw and turns away.
“You’d better go,” he says coldly. “Go before I say something worse.”
“Daniel—”
“Go,” he growls. “I don’t want to fight with you.” He pauses. “Don’t make me.”
“I’m not going to fight with you,” I say miserably. “Like you said, I’m not your mother.” He winces, hating his own words. I walk to the door, a mixture of grief and anger now bubbling over.
The phone continues to ring like an alarm, and just as I open the door, Daniel calls my name. I look back over my shoulder, and Daniel’s head is down. “Don’t trust Dad,” he says quietly. “Don’t trust any of them.”
Words that aren’t an apology are just another slap in the face. “Yeah, well,” I say. “You betrayed me. So it seems you’re the one who can’t be trusted, Daniel.”
He shoots me an annoyed look and then walks to the window with his arms crossed, staring over the grounds and shutting me out completely.
I slam his door and then jog down the hall, checking once to see if he’s going to run after me to say he changed his mind. I press the button for the elevator and watch his door. He doesn’t come for me. The hallway stands empty, the corridor endless from this angle. A hush has fallen over the world, a weighted pause that feels like it’s about to explode.
“Come on,” I murmur, pressing the elevator button again and again. When the doors finally open, I sigh out my relief and then let them close before selecting a floor. I should go to my father, tell him not only about the concierge, but about Daniel, too. Catherine has obviously clouded my brother’s judgment, but I can’t accept that he would let a girl destroy our relationship. We depend on each other. He wouldn’t a
bandon me without a good reason. At least . . . that’s what I’ve always thought.
And if I tell my father that, what would he say? He’s finally talking to us again. Will I screw that up if I go to him ranting about Daniel and the concierge? My father doesn’t exactly have a history of being understanding.
I take a steadying breath, trying to calm myself. Daniel said not to trust our father—anyone—but he’s the one acting crazy. My father will probably be waiting for me at the movie theater. I can head down there, check his temperament. I don’t have another choice. Now that Daniel has abandoned me, my father’s all I have left.
Kenneth isn’t at the desk as I come out of the elevator into the lobby. My nerves are shot, my head spinning with different explanations for my brother’s behavior. Ways I can convince him to leave with me anyway. There’s a crowd meandering outside the theater room, and I crisscross through the bodies until I get to the door. An attendant, more like a guard, stands near the entrance. He’s large, with dark hair and dark eyes, and he seems to grow bigger as I pass him. I can feel the weight of his stare on my back, and I wonder if all of the Ruby is watching me now because of Kenneth. Is this the sort of thing Daniel warned me about?
I let out a held breath when I enter the theater, struck all at once by the elegance surrounding me. A screen stretches the length of the back wall—at least twenty feet, with red velvet curtains draped at either side. The walls have burgundy and gold patterned wallpapers, sconces directing the lights into the perfect shadows, adding to the ambiance. Rows of plush red seats lead back from the screen, and are filled with people—many of them in shawls and dresses. I didn’t know this was a formal event.
Self-conscious, I smooth back my hair and glance around for my father. There is the smell of popcorn, and I turn toward the small bar set up in the back of the room. About a dozen stools sit at the counter, with important-looking men sipping from short glasses. There’s a popcorn machine and a rack of candy, little dishes filled with pretzels on the bar top. I expect to find my father there, but he’s nowhere in sight. I do, however, see the woman from the gift shop. She notices me and smiles brightly. Astrid wears a different blazer, with thick shoulder pads, and I offer a curt wave. After all, she did sell me those disgusting chocolates.
I start down the aisle. A few guests look at me and then whisper to whoever’s next to them. Some people don’t look at me at all. I’m being paranoid, but who wouldn’t be after Kenneth’s threats? After Daniel’s warning? I’m halfway to the screen when I hear my name, and I turn to the left and find my dad sitting in the middle with an empty seat next to him. He looks elated to see me. I don’t plan to stay, but I murmur “Excuse me” and shimmy past the legs and laps of the people in the row.
“Hey, kid,” my father says when I reach him. “I’m glad you could make it!” He holds down the seat of the chair, and I sit next to him, glancing behind me to see if anyone is listening. In the back of the room the guard has come in and is standing at the end of the aisle. He looks directly at me, and I turn away, my skin chilled under his watchful stare. If I pull my father out of here, will he report it to Kenneth? Is this how the concierge has been keeping tabs on me?
“Are you okay?” my father asks, sounding concerned. “You’re so pale.”
“Dad,” I say quietly. My father furrows his brow, reading my fear. “Dad, I have to talk to you about this hotel.”
His easy smile falls away, and his eyes lose the warmth they had when I first arrived. “Kenneth warned me about your behavior,” my father says in a disappointed voice. “Have you done something to upset the Ruby?”
There’s a wave of unease, my dad’s demeanor mimicking the sketchiness that happened in Daniel’s room. Do they already know Kenneth is a creep? Or has he brainwashed them? I take in a harsh breath, my entire body starting to tremble. “We have to leave, Dad,” I say as calmly as possible, but my voice wavers. “You, me, and Daniel have to get out of here before Kenneth does something to us.”
At the mention of our family his expression softens slightly. “Why would we leave, Audrey?” he asks. “Things are better here. We’re better. You just have to give it a chance.”
“A chance?” I repeat, incredulous.
“This is our opportunity to start over. Isn’t that what you want?”
I stare at him; the color’s returned to his cheeks, his hair is well kept, and his clothes are stylish. I haven’t seen him like this since Mom died, and I’ve missed him. I’ve missed having a father. “It is what I want,” I say, confused. “But—”
“Then it’s settled,” he says, the rest of my sentence unimportant. “Popcorn?” He outstretches the bag in my direction. “They have candy, too. This is supposed to be a great movie, but the summary was pretty vague. We’ll see, I guess.”
I take the popcorn even though I’d choke if I tried to eat anything right now. I don’t understand what’s going on with him and Daniel. The concierge is spying on us, threatening his staff. Am I the one overreacting?
The lights in the room go dark and I gasp. The popcorn falls from my hands, sending white kernels scattering across the black floor at my feet. Right then the screen illuminates and previews start. Patrons lean forward to watch, smiling and content. I ease back in the chair.
My father looks down at the floor and reaches to pick up the bag I dropped. “I’ll go grab us another popcorn,” he whispers. “Be right back, kid.”
People laugh at something on-screen, but I can’t pay attention. My mind keeps turning back to Daniel. Why did he bring up my mother? And exactly how long do he and my father plan on staying here? Living at a hotel may be okay for Elias, but I don’t want to spend my life wandering around the Ruby, terrified of Kenneth. I glance at the door, considering leaving, but before I can make the decision, my father is scooting back down the aisle. He hands me a new bag of popcorn as he passes.
“Got you Junior Mints,” he whispers. “They’re your favorite, right?”
My automatic response is to say no, because my father hasn’t guessed a correct thing about me in a long while. But this time . . . “Right,” I say, taking the white box from his hand. “They are my favorite.”
I look down at the candy, still afraid, but maybe a little less so. I turn to my father as he sits down and settles in, smiling before taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth. I watch him until he laughs, pointing at the screen, and then I turn away.
When my fear has faded enough, I take a few bites of popcorn and open my Junior Mints. In a way my father’s right—maybe we are better here. At least for another night. I sit back and watch the show.
Chapter 12
The movie ends. My father looks over at me as the lights come up. “That was actually funny,” he says. “They need to hire better people to write those descriptions. I wouldn’t have even stayed if I weren’t meeting you.”
I return his smile, his affection feeling genuine though it still catches me off guard. The room starts to empty, and my father and I walk toward the exit, tossing what’s left of our snacks in the trash can near the door. I pretend not to notice the guard, even as he watches me.
“Where are you heading to now?” my father asks, holding open the door for me to leave first. “We could probably grab dinner if you’re hungry.”
Distracted, I keep a careful eye on everything around us. “Uh . . .” I’m considering fried chicken when the crowd in the lobby suddenly quiets.
“Mr. Casella,” Kenneth says. My stomach sinks, and I turn slowly to face the concierge as he stands next to my father. Kenneth glances at me. “Miss Casella, nice to see you enjoying the Ruby.”
“Whatever,” I say, annoyed that he’d pretend to be polite to me in front of my father. For his part, my father tenses like he’s expecting bad news. Does he really think I’m acting out? He turns to Kenneth, but instead of apologizing, he stoops his shoulders.
“I need more time,” he says quietly. Kenneth is unmoved, lifting his chin in a pompo
us way to look down his nose. “Please,” my father goes on, “just another few days.”
“What?” I demand. First of all, I just finished telling my father that I wanted out of this place, and now he’s begging the concierge to let us stay? Is he nuts? And what gives—did my dad run out of money? I hardly think this is Kenneth’s call.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Casella,” Kenneth replies, ignoring me. “But this is the final warning. You remember what we talked out, yes?”
My father touches his throat, a sudden flinch of pain. My anger is quickly replaced with fear, terror reverberating from my father to me. Whatever they’ve talked out—it’s not good. I step in and take my father’s arm.
“Believe me,” I tell Kenneth, trying to act brave. “We’re out of here in the morning. You can count on that.”
Kenneth flashes me a look of disdain and then sets his eyes on my father. I swallow hard, my dad’s arm shaking beneath my hand. “See to it,” Kenneth tells him. “Otherwise there will be repercussions.” He turns on his heel and walks back across the lobby.
My heart thuds against my ribs; the crowd starts talking again. My father pats my hand like the exchange never happened, and looks down at me, smiling gently.
“Now, about dinner,” he says.
“Seriously?” I ask him. “We’re not going to discuss the psycho who just threatened you? What is he talking about, Dad? Do you owe him money?”
My father shakes his head. “It’s nothing like that, kid. Promise. Kenneth . . . he’s uncomfortable with some of the choices you’ve made. He’d prefer if you left sooner than later.”
“Likewise. I think he’s an asshole.”
My father’s mouth twitches with a smile. “I won’t even correct your language on that one.” Surprised, I laugh. “I just wish we could stay longer,” my father continues. “This has been wonderful, having us all together.” He looks over at me, his eyes glistening in the lights of the chandelier. “But after tomorrow you’ll never have to deal with Kenneth again,” he says. “I swear it.”