Lukas and I drive to my aunt and uncle’s house without telling them we’re coming. I’m hoping that if we catch Aunt Daisy off guard, she’ll be more likely to slip up and give us something useful. Information… Leverage… A reason not to throw myself into the nearest body of water… We bring Roxy along too, mostly for the chaos factor. Aunt Daisy HATES animals in her perfect little house. The fur, the smell, the audacity of nature. But with Lukas present, she’ll pretend not to mind. She likes to appear calm and composed and above it all. Maybe watching her eye twitch every time Roxy sniffs a cushion will give me the strength I need to get through this. If I get the chance, I’m totally encouraging Roxy to jump onto the couch. I SHOULD be mentally preparing for the upcoming confrontation, making a plan or something. But instead, I’m stuck on the part where Lukas has apparently been bonding with my brother. Without telling me. It’s not the fact that they’re getting along, honestly, that’s great. Touching, even. It’s just… No one told me. It didn’t even occur to Lukas that I might want to KNOW that my brother’s been checking in with him. Lukas seems mildly baffled by how much it bothers me. He can hear my thoughts, sure, but that doesn’t mean he always gets them. It’s not that I’m upset, exactly. It’s more this weird knot in my chest, like there’s a part of his life I didn’t even realise I was missing. It’s not like he was hiding it. I asked who he was texting and he told me immediately. Handed over his phone, let me read every message. There was no deception involved at all. But the fact that it didn’t even cross his mind to mention it? That’s what gets me. We’ve been so close lately. Practically glued together. He hears almost everything I think. At this point I seriously doubt there’s anyone who knows me better. But I don’t know HIM like that. Not all the way. Not unless I ask. Or dig. Or catch glimpses and piece them together like a puzzle I wasn’t given all the pieces for. I mean, I THINK I know him. But so much of that knowledge comes from careful observation or me straight up interrogating him. He rarely offers things unprompted. But… Does it matter? I don’t NEED to know everything he does. That sounds exhausting. I don’t think I want to know everything he thinks about. It takes me a while to work out what it is that’s bothering me. I just… Want to be someone he chooses to tell things to.
“Hey, Lukas…” I say slowly, hesitantly.
“Yeah?” He glances over at me, then back to the road, one hand steady on the wheel.
“If there was something going on in your life… Even if it wasn’t directly about me… Would you tell me?” I ask. Okay. That came out as clear as dirt. I wince at myself. I suspect Lukas is going to have no clue what I’m getting at. Sure enough, he furrows his brow slightly and reaches over, dropping his free hand gently onto my thigh. His expression softens.
“You’re worried I don’t share things with you?” He asks.
“Yeah.” I admit quietly.
“Because I talk to your brother.” He adds, nailing it in one. I shrug, trying to stay casual.
“It’s not that you talk to him. It’s that you’re talking to him. About… Stuff. And not to me.” I say awkwardly. I’m flailing. Again. Thank goodness he can hear my thoughts and translate my nonsense into something coherent. He frowns.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you about. You’ve been there for most of it. All the good parts of my day, you’re in them.” He points out.
“Yeah…” I say.
“But I don’t know how you FEEL about them. I know what happened. I don’t know which parts mattered to you. I don’t know which moments you carried with you.” I explain. That lands. I see it in the way his expression shifts, understanding flickering behind his eyes, followed by something warmer. He squeezes my thigh gently, then offers a crooked little smile.
“In that case, I can tell you right now that, regardless of what happens the rest of today, the highlight of my day was kissing you this morning.” He says bluntly then pauses.
“Actually, that might be the highlight of my week.” He adds. His tone is almost smug, but the genuine joy in his expression kind of ruins that. I flush pink and look away.
“Don’t you dare share that update with my brother.” I mutter.
“I won’t, that one’s just for me.” Lukas says easily. He pulls up in front of Aunt Daisy’s pristine house and puts the car in park. Roxy lets out a soft huff from the back seat, like she knows that we’re both suddenly incredibly tense and uncomfortable. Lukas turns to me.
“Are you ready for this?” He asks. I sigh deeply, dragging a hand down my face.
“I’m never ready to deal with Aunt Daisy.” I glance at the house, steel myself.
“But let’s do it anyway.”
I straighten my skirt and take another deep breath as we head up the driveway. Lukas reaches over and takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine with quiet reassurance. Roxy trots along beside us, tail gently wagging as she positions herself between us, like a living, fluffy barrier keeping us slightly apart. She keeps knocking against us both like she’s doing her best to comfort us. Aww. Sweet girl. It’s like she knows that we’re stressed out. It’s probably just instinct, but still… She IS Lukas’s familiar. That means she’s tuned into his emotions, probably better than either of us are right now. And honestly, dogs are already freakishly good at this kind of thing anyway. I wouldn’t put it past her to be trying to comfort us both at once. I lift my free hand and knock on the front door. The sound echoes a little too loudly in the stillness, and we’re left standing there in awkward silence while I listen to someone rushing around inside. Footsteps shuffle. A muffled voice says something unintelligible. Then the door swings open. Uncle Lance stands on the threshold, blinking at us. Every time I see him, the same two thoughts hit me like clockwork. One, his red hair is fantastic. Seriously, unfairly good hair. And two, no matter how perfectly pressed his shirt is or how polished his dress shoes are, he always looks exhausted. Like someone who’s been politely holding back a scream for the past decade. Then again, he’s married to Aunt Daisy, so maybe he has been…
“Hi, Uncle Lance.” I greet him.
“Hello, Clare.” His voice is soft and low, and when he sees Lukas beside me, the two of them exchange one of those manly chin dip nods that somehow counts as a full conversation. I open my mouth, ready to launch into some hastily invented excuse for our unexpected visit. But Uncle Lance lifts a hand, stopping me before I can begin. There’s something quietly resigned in his eyes. A kind of tired understanding.
“You need to talk to Daisy, right?” He says, his expression gentle and a little sad. I nod silently. He sighs, shoulders slumping just a little more.
“Come on in.”