One True Thing (37 page)

semblance of a relationship that Archer and I had

left. Asshole or not, he was still my brother.

“I know. I’m still thinking about it. I just don’t

want to be the one that ends things with him and me

permanently.”

“He didn’t do that by stealing from you?” I

turned my face into Dusty’s belly. I didn’t want to

talk about calling my brother a criminal. I was so

weak when it came to him. Fuck. “Sorry. Shit. I

know he’s your brother. I just get protective. I

want to fix things for you.”

“I know, love. I know.” Problem was, I didn’t

know how to fix it without making things ten times

worse.

“What if you went and got the card from

Archer?” I’d told Dusty of the latest problem,

where he could potentially be using the card still,

spending anything that I’d paid back.

“Just go over there and take it?”

“Well, yeah.”

My phone rang again. It was the collections

office. Again. I hadn’t answered them yet about

what I wanted to do for payment, and now that they

had a number that seemed to be working for them,

they’d been relentless. I’d just about had enough. I

sent the call to voice mail, not willing to deal with

them for even one more minute that day, and stood.

“I think I might go do that.”

Dusty grinned at my sudden bravado. “Get

’em, Mr. Tough Guy.”

I had to laugh. It was the first laugh in days,

and for that I was grateful.

“I’ll be back soon. Love you.”

IT WASN’T quite as easy as that once I got over to

Archer’s place. He stood there with his usual

insolent face, looking at me like I was a total

annoyance that he didn’t want to deal with.

“What now, Ash?”

It pissed me off that he didn’t even look

slightly contrite. “What now is you’re going to

give me the credit card so I don’t have to call the

police. I’m trying to bail your ass out, but I’m not

going to let you do it to me again.”

“You wouldn’t call the police.” Archer rolled

his eyes.

I got my phone out of my pocket and unlocked

the screen. “Give me the card, Arch. I’m not doing

this shit again.”

He looked at me for a long, long time. I

narrowed my eyes. “
Fuck
,” he finally said. Archer

got his wallet out and tossed the card at me. I

caught it and nodded to him, ready to turn and get

the hell out of there.

“You’re not really going to call the damn

cops, are you?”

I gave him another long look. “I really don’t

want to. Don’t do anything else to make me feel

like I should have to.”

“Fine.”

Archer followed me to the door and slammed

it right as I was walking out. I nearly had to jump

out of the way. The lock clunked, loud and final, as

I walked away.

Chapter Seventeen

Dusty

IT HAD been more than two weeks since Asher

told me about the whole credit card situation. I

knew his parents had sent him some money, and

he’d wavered for days about whether or not to

deposit the check. He’d given in eventually, and

then felt horrible afterward. I understood why, but

at least between that and the money he’d been

pulling in from his jobs, he’d managed to get the

collection agency nearly six grand. It was enough

to get them off his back a little. Not much and not

for long, though. At best, it would earn him a

reprieve for a few days before the phone calls

started coming in hard and heavy again.

What made things even more difficult was

that, despite all the extra gigs, Asher still had to

worry about paying his regular bills too—rent,

insurance, cell phone, gas, his car payment. I’d

told him to leave the grocery shopping to me, and

that I’d take care of the utilities we were

responsible for whenever they came due. He’d

agreed, but I knew it hurt his pride.

It would be an even bigger blow for him to

take the money I’d offered from my own savings—

and I knew it was the very last thing he wanted to

do—but I was just biding my time for the right

moment to bring it up again. He could be stubborn

if he wanted. I could too. I knew if the situation

had been reversed, he would have been tripping

over himself to help me. It was only fair that I got

to do the same for him.

I was desperate to talk to Rue about it. I

hadn’t yet. First, because I had worried about how

much I should share. Then, because I knew the

timing was all wrong. Erik’s mother, Charlotte

(“Call me Char, sweetie.”), had just gotten into

town a few days before and was staying in my old

room instead of a hotel like she’d initially planned.

I didn’t want to spoil their family time by dumping

my drama on Rue’s head.

She was only in town for another two weeks,

and she hadn’t seen Erik since a quick visit to

Wilmington during that whirlwind month of

packing after Rue had accepted his new position at

Roberto Colucci. I hadn’t gotten to meet her then,

so they’d invited me over for dinner to make the

introductions. Asher too, but his schedule had been

packed full lately, and he couldn’t come because

he’d had to drive up to Montrose to cover a fiftieth

anniversary party.

I felt like we’d barely seen each other over

the past week, and when he was home, he

alternated between exhausted and angry. Not that I

blamed him—I’d probably be ripping my hair out

—but I couldn’t help missing him. We hadn’t made

love in days, and the last time had been hard and

rushed and over entirely too soon.

Sex wasn’t everything—had never been for

me—but there were nights I lay in bed and ached

for wanting to touch him. He hadn’t told me not to.

He never pushed me away. It was only that

sometimes his body language just begged to be left

alone. Even without the words, I respected that.

I hated it, though. I couldn’t stand that he was

so tired, that he was working himself into the

ground to protect his selfish, remorseless asshole

of a brother.

I didn’t like to think badly of people. I’d

made excuses for Gary back in the day. I often

allowed people liberties with me beyond what

they deserved. Under normal circumstances, I

didn’t have a violent bone in my body. But,

dammit, there had been moments lately when I

would have loved nothing more than to punch

Archer in the face. For what he was doing to Asher

most of all, but also what he’d done to me, us, and

our fledgling relationship.

I hoped Asher and I were solid enough to

make it through. I knew financial troubles were

strenuous for even the most committed of couples.

With Asher and me being so new still, not quite at

the six-month mark, I sometimes wondered if our

love might collapse under the strain of Archer’s

mess. The thought terrified me. I would never,
ever

be the first to pull away, but I worried sometimes

that Asher might, if for nothing other than some

misguided attempt to protect me from what he saw

as only
his
problem. I didn’t know why he couldn’t

get that it was mine too, by my own choice.

“Hey, Uncle Dustpan, you all right over

there?”

I blinked, drawn out of my thoughts by Rue’s

voice. He was watching me closely, green eyes

dark with concern. “Huh?”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Later,” I said, glancing significantly to

where Char was waiting open-armed for Alice to

toddle across the living room so they could play

blocks.

According to Rue, she’d stepped happily into

the role of “nana” and had been spoiling Alice

rotten since her arrival. I thought it was awesome

myself. Out of the three of us, Erik was the only

one who had any type of relationship with his

parents. With the way he’d been before, back when

he started babysitting Alice, I imagined Char had

never thought she’d see a grandchild from him. It

didn’t appear to matter to her that Alice wasn’t

Erik’s daughter by blood. Alice was his in every

way that counted, and for Char that seemed to be

more than enough.

It warmed my heart to see how much she

loved Erik, and how that love had clearly extended

to Rue and Alice as well. And, God, she reminded

me so much of him, it was almost unreal. I knew it

probably shouldn’t have been since she was his

mom, but still. Personality-wise they were

completely different. Physically, Erik looked like

the male embodiment of his mom, from his unruly

brown waves and pale gold skin, to the big,

brown, heavily-lashed eyes I’d nearly swooned

over the first time I met him.

There didn’t seem to be any of his dad in him,

as far I could remember from the handful of

pictures I’d seen, whereas
I
was an obvious blend

of my own parents. I owed my mother for my fair

complexion and small stature, but the naturally

dark hair and downturned eyes, those were my

father all the way. Sometimes when I looked in the

mirror, I resented that, wished I’d been born

without any resemblance to either one of them. It

was hard seeing them in my face when I knew they

would both prefer it if I didn’t exist.

Some of what I was feeling must have

showed in my expression, because Rue stood

abruptly and grabbed my arm to pull me up beside

him.

“Hey, babe?” he said to Erik. “Dusty and I

are going to take a quick walk, okay?”

Erik, who’d been smiling as he watched his

mother build a block tower with Alice, looked at

us curiously. “Isn’t it k-kind of cold?”

Rue waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine.

We’ll be right back.”

In southern California, “cold” was a relative

term. The winter had been mild overall—nothing

like what we were used to back in Wilmington.

Even at night in early February, the temperature

was still in the upper 40s. I didn’t need much more

than my thick black hoodie, though I wrapped the

scarf Asher’s mom had made me around my neck

before we left the house, for good measure.

Once we’d gotten about halfway down the

block, Rue reached out a hand to stop me. “Okay.

Spill. Don’t even try to tell me there isn’t anything

wrong. I know you, Dustball.”

“I’m not even sure where to start.” I sighed

and scuffed at the sidewalk with the toe of one of

my dark purple Chucks. “It’s just… I’ve been

thinking about my sister a lot lately, and my

parents, and now there’s all this other stuff going

on too. I wanted to talk to you about it earlier,

but….”

Rue was quiet for a few seconds. “Did Asher

do something?”

My head jerked up. “What? No!”

Another moment of silence. “Archer?”

I groaned, my stomach clenching at the sound

of his name. “
Yes
. God, you have no idea.”

“Tell me,” Rue said.

So I did.

“HEY, Ash, want some of this soup?” I called into

the living room. “I warmed up enough for the two

of us.”

Asher mumbled something unintelligible, but

it didn’t sound like a yes. I frowned. He’d been

irritable and withdrawn all afternoon, and it

wasn’t that he didn’t have cause. It wasn’t that I