"Mama needs an evening of peace," she said. "There's an exhibit at the science museum that's open late tonight, and Roger is taking him to see it. And I thought I'd come over and talk to a real-life non-toddler for a change."
"Well, I can't promise that talking to me will be all that much different from talking to Brady."
"Will you throw yourself on the floor and scream incoherently because I cut your chicken nuggets into bite-sized pieces instead of allowing you to attempt to swallow them whole?" she asks.
I laugh. "In fact, I can promise that won't happen. But only because you brought soup and not chicken nuggets." I take the containers out of the bag. "Ooh, chicken tortilla from my favorite Mexican restaurant."
"I'm the best sister in the world," she interrupts, sitting on the barstool across the kitchen counter.
"You are," I agree. I open one of the cabinets and take out two bowls, pouring soup from the containers into the dishes.
"Where's Hendrix?" she asks, and my hand slips. Chicken soup pours over the edge of one of the bowls.
"Shit," I say, scrambling for a paper towel to clean it up. "I don't know. He's probably in his room. I haven't seen him. I mean, I saw him last night. At mom's. Only at dinner. Nothing else, though." I can feel the heat on my face as I ramble, my words making me sound both stupid and guilt-ridden.
"Are you talking about me?" Hendrix enters the kitchen, looking just as sexy as when I woke up with him in bed this morning. Except now he's wearing clothes, jeans and a white t-shirt, which should be completely unassuming. In reality, they make him look hotter than a damn model.
"Hey, sweetie!" Grace runs over to Hendrix and hugs him. His arm around her, he looks at me, and it makes my cheeks flush. I pretend to be busy with the chips and avocado and cheese, opening the little containers to sprinkle the contents on the tortilla soup. "I brought soup. I thought Addison was sick, but it turns out she was just lying."
"Oh?" Hendrix asks.
"She told me about you guys going to mom's last night."
"She did, did she?" Hendrix asks, and I sputter, choking even though I'm not eating anything. I think I see Hendrix smile, and for some reason, the fact that he can be so cavalier about what happened makes me more upset.
"Yeah, I'd have a headache too if I had to deal with our mother for anything more than a few minute conversation," Grace says. "Which is why I have to limit my time with her. You want to do dinner and a movie with us? It's a girl movie, but we could watch a thriller or something."
"Hendrix is probably going running, right, Hendrix?" I ask. There is no way I'm sitting through dinner and a movie with Grace and Hendrix after what just happened between him and I. Grace is the sister version of a bloodhound, brilliant at sniffing out secrets, and the last thing I need is her figuring out what happened.
"What?" Grace asks. "Oh, don't do that. Skip your run and stuff your face with us. We have soup. And chips and queso, too. I've barely seen you since you've been here. And I'm Brady-less. Roger took him to the science museum."
Hendrix gives me a long look. "Yeah, I'm going running," he says.
"But you're not even dressed in running clothes." I can feel Grace's eyes on me, and I turn around to throw away the paper towels in my hand, grateful for an excuse to do anything else.
"I won't be that long," Hendrix says. "It's just ten miles."
"Just ten miles," Grace scoffs. "Fine, go be fit or whatever. We'll snarf soup and watch girl movies."
I pretend to be nonchalant as Hendrix goes back to his room, changes, and then leaves the house for his run. I'm chatting with Grace, gossiping about stupid things, until the door shuts, and Grace stops mid-sentence to look at me through narrowed eyes.
"Do I have something in my teeth?" I ask.
"No," she says. "Spill the beans."
My hand feels shaky as I bring my spoon to my lips. "I have no idea what beans there are to spill."
"Bullshit," Grace says. "I'm your sister. And you guys are weird."
"What are you talking about?" I ask. "Hendrix is weird. He's been gone for five years. I don't even know him anymore. There's nothing weird. You're weird." I stop abruptly, aware that I'm doing that thing where my voice gets high-pitched and squeaky. Totally indicative of guilt.
Grace's eyes go wide as she stares at me. "Oh. My. God."
"No, no. There's no Oh my God. There's nothing to Oh My God about."
"Yes there is." She inhales sharply, bringing her hand to her mouth. "You and Hendrix."
"No, no, no." I shake my head. "There is no me and Hendrix."
"There so totally is you and Hendrix!" She points at me. "You're guilty. I can see it all over your face. I should have guessed. You guys were always so close."
"What?" I squeak. "We were not close."
"Yes you were, you lying liar," she says. "Or should I call you a dirty liar? I thought you guys were doing it when you were in high school, actually. You weren't?"