Masquerade

2

"Ugh," I groan as I roll over in my bed. My head is pounding, my stomach reeling, and my mouth tastes like I've just licked the shag carpet in a sorority house. The light is too bright, even through my closed lids. I sling an arm over my face to block it out.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," my brother calls out cheerfully, and I lift my other hand in the air to give him the finger. He chuckles softly then crosses the room, plopping down on the edge of my bed. "Come on, Willie. Mom's got breakfast ready. Might do you good to eat."

"Go away and let me die in peace. And don't call me Willie. You know I hate that shit."

He lets out a sigh then pulls my arm off my face. My eyes creak open to meet his, and though he'd been teasing me I can see something else in his gaze: pity. "You can't lay here all day. You know it'll only make you hurt."

I sigh and close my eyes against his soft spoken truth. I slowly raise myself up, gritting my teeth against the ache that's already setting in.

"Too late," I say as I swing my legs off the bed then sit on its edge, taking deep breaths as I wait for the pain to subside. When it finally eases into a dull ache, I get to my feet and wait. When nothing new screams at me, I turn to look at my kid brother then nod my head. He visibly relaxes then gets up too. "Tell mom I'll be down in a few."

"Don't take too long. Dad wants to see you before he heads out."

I nod and he leaves, closing the door behind himself. I need a shower but I forgo that for the time being, opting instead for brushing my teeth and hair. I slip out and then down the stairs, hanging a right at the bottom. The aromas of bacon, pancakes, and coffee hang heavy in the air, and though most mornings my mouth would be watering from that heavenly perfume, this morning it does not.

All I want is coffee, and for my stomach to stop twisting around inside me. I enter the kitchen quietly, but there's never hope of going unnoticed around here. My dad looks up from his paper at the table; Mom turns from the stove. They both give me identical smiles, smiles that say they're both happy to see me and saddened by the circumstances behind my being here.

Aiden just gives me a crooked smile then goes back to his breakfast. "Your meds are on the counter next to the coffee pot," he says through a mouthful of half chewed pancake.

"Thanks."

I cross the room, snatch a mug from a cabinet, then move to pour myself the only breakfast I want this morning. I open the pill bottles next to the coffee maker, shake one pill out of each into my hand, then dry swallow them, knowing the coffee will be too hot to be of much help. I move to the table and sit between my dad and Aiden.

"Your sister will be here in a little while," my mother says as she fills a plate and brings it to the table. She sets it down before me and my stomach does a nasty little flip in response.

"That'll be nice. I haven't seen her in a while," I say, trying not let my stomach do something even worse to me.

We all fall into somewhat easy conversation, much like it has always been around my parents' table. No one brings up last night, or Spenser, for which I am grateful. It's too soon. I can't quite wrap my head around it all yet, and I certainly don't feel like talking about it. I know that will change when my sister gets here. For her, there have never been many boundaries she's recognized.

When my father finally reaches over and lays a brawny hand over mine then gives it a gentle squeeze, only then do I feel the prick of fresh tears. But I blink them away. I may have been a blubbering mess last night, but I won't be that in front of him. I give him a tiny smile and he nods his head in understanding.