20 Confusion
20
Confusion
Alexander Smith stood at the top of Grams’ house, where a narrow staircase led to the rooftop balcony. From there, the whole neighborhood stretched out like a quiet painting. The dim streetlights flickered against the cobblestone paths, and the cool night breeze carried faint traces of laughter that still lingered from the party below.
Alex leaned against the rails, staring down at the yard. Most of the guests had already left. Midnight had long passed, and the first whispers of dawn were still tucked behind the horizon. The once lively celebration now looked hollow just a few figures moving about, clearing tables and packing away decorations.
He sighed, his jaw tightening, brows furrowing with thoughts he didn’t want to name.
“Alex!”
The familiar voice pulled him from his silence. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was, but he did anyway, catching sight of Margaret climbing the last few steps.
“You’re here,” she said, a little breathless. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”
The cold breeze wrapped around her, and she hugged herself, goosebumps rising on her bare arms.
“Mm,” Alex hummed, low and unreadable, before turning his eyes back to the view.
Margaret walked to his side, letting the silence between them stretch until it pressed heavy. Finally, she asked softly, her voice touched with worry,
“What are you thinking about?”
Alex hissed, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration.
“I just don’t get this whole thing between Victoria and Grams,” he muttered, teeth clenched. “They keep dragging me into what I don’t even understand, and neither of them will tell me what the real issue is.”
Margaret stayed quiet, only nodding. There were no words of comfort she could offer him. The weight on his shoulders was already heavy enough, Grams’ tension, Victoria’s drama, and the ache of still not being over his dead wife.
“This was supposed to be Grams’ birthday,” Alex continued bitterly. “And look at the stunt she pulled. She could’ve handled it differently, like the adult she’s supposed to be. But no, she has to make a scene. Every time it’s the same, everything turns into a battle between them.”
He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “And the girl? The one caught in the middle of all this? Who is she?”
“It seems Ryan’s taken a liking of her,” Margaret said carefully. “That’s what set them off.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. “Well, my son can be with whoever he chooses. Victoria has no right to interfere in his life.”
“She thinks she does,” Margaret admitted softly. “She keeps saying she doesn’t want him making a grievous mistake like you did. She insists she’s guiding him onto the right path.”
The words slipped out before she realized the weight they carried. Her eyes flicked to Alex. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay, Margaret,” Alex cut in, his voice surprisingly calm. “I understand.”
But there was a shadow in his eyes when he said it, a memory he didn’t speak aloud. His late wife’s smile, the choices that had led them here, the emptiness that lingered no matter how many years passed.
He turned toward Margaret then, his gaze tracing over her slowly, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time that night. A small smile tugged at his lips.
“That dress looks good on you. When I saw it, I knew it would fit you perfectly.”
Margaret blinked, heat creeping into her cheeks. She had misunderstood his gesture earlier. When Alex had brought the dress back from his trip, she thought he was trying to say she didn’t have anything decent to wear, that he wanted to polish her up so she wouldn’t embarrass them at the party. They had argued about it for hours. But the truth was simpler. Alex hadn’t bought it because she lacked dresses, he knew she had plenty. He had bought it because he thought of her… because he wanted to see her in it.
Now, standing there with his compliment lingering in the air, she finally saw that. And it made her blush.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Alex studied her a moment longer. The way she ducked her head. The way the wind toyed with strands of her hair. There were things he wanted to say but didn’t, because saying them would open doors he wasn’t sure either of them was ready to walk through.
Her gaze drifted downward, and she caught sight of Patricia in the yard, hugging her friend goodbye before Grams urged her inside. Something in Margaret’s face shifted. A frown crept across her lips, her eyes clouded with something deeper, memories, recognition, unease.
“What is it?” Alex asked quickly, catching the change in her expression.
Margaret hesitated. “Nothing. It’s just…” Her eyes followed Patricia’s figure as she disappeared toward the house. “She looks familiar. But that’s impossible.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. He chuckled lightly. “Impossible how? Honestly, when I saw her earlier, I thought the same thing. She looks like you. Like a younger version, almost a mini you.”
Margaret’s face hardened. “Ryan said the same thing.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them again, heavier now. Alex tilted his head, studying her. “Does it bother you? That she reminds you of yourself?”
Margaret’s throat worked, but she didn’t answer. Her heart pounded with a confusion she couldn’t quite place.
Before Alex could press, Ronda stumbled into the yard, her face streaked with tears. Margaret’s frown deepened. “Is that Ronda? Why is she crying?”
She watched as Ronda went straight to Victoria, pulling her aside. The two women disappeared into the shadows, their hushed voices sharp enough to cut.
“Something must’ve happened,” Alex muttered, shrugging it off. “Those two are always up to no good.” He slipped his jacket from his shoulders and draped it over Margaret. “It’s cold. Let’s head in.”
Margaret pulled the jacket tighter around herself, her mind still lingering on Patricia.
“When are we leaving?” she asked quietly as they started back toward the house.
“Tomorrow,” Alex decided firmly. “Mom’s not comfortable with Victoria around, even though she’s glad she finally saw her daughter again. And I know Victoria, she won’t stop stirring trouble. The sooner we’re out of here, the better. For everyone and for my mom.”