**Mature Audiences**
When Lawrence Adams returns to Orchid Island, Florida for her mother's funeral, she expects a brief, somber visit before returning to her life in North Carolina. However, faced with the fractured relationships with her siblings...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Wren
I approach the backdoor, wiping the sand off of my feet. I could hear my dad and Maebry arguing in the kitchen and I sigh, steadying my breathing before I pinch the doorknob and walk inside.
I could just sneak through the breakfast area and slide back upstairs. No one would be the wiser, but I must face the music one way or another. Besides, my left leg is beginning to ache from my walk in the soft sand and I didn't bring my medication with me.
"But Dad, she—"
Maebry's voice is cut off by my dad raising his hand. My brows furrow at the sight, he's never done that before. My dad is a patient man. He would always listen to anything you had to say before he ever interjected. That's why it was so much easier talking to him than mom. However, this is new.
"No buts, Mae. I am your father and you will listen to me, understood?" Dad chastised.
My hands go slick with sweat. I don't know if I'm up for my first family argument in ten years at seven in the morning. Maebry's chocolate brown eyes darken, almost matching the black silk pajamas she's wearing. A huge contrast to my dad's chosen outfit which brings a small smile to my face. No matter how much money my mom would spend on designer pajamas—of all things—my dad still preferred a simple t-shirt and flannel pants.
Realizing they still haven't noticed that I'm in the room, I clear my throat. "Morning. I would say good, but considering..."
"Ugh!" Maebry groans loudly and stomps out of the kitchen like she's a six-year-old again. You can't teach an old dog new tricks.
My dad exhales loudly as we both listen to the stomping as Maebry makes her way up the stairs and to her room. She slams the door loudly before her stomping ceases, most likely waking Julia and Maverick up.
"Tough crowd," I mumble and pull out a chair at the breakfast table, bringing my hand toward my shin and gently rubbing it.
I could've just kept my mouth shut and left it at 'morning', but I've never done well in serious settings. Humor is my way of breaking the awkwardness and it worked wonders back home in North Carolina. I have to remember I'm not there anymore, until tomorrow at least.
"How did you sleep, bug?" My dad joins me at the table, setting his mug of coffee on one of the placemats.
Like shit.
"Fine, Dad," I lied. "Where's the Ibuprofen?"
Almost as if he senses my lie, he ignores my question. "How long are you staying, bug?"
I eye him, his soft green eyes watching me carefully and I abandon my aching leg altogether. There's something suggestive in his tone.
"I have a flight tomorrow afternoon," I answer and immediately, he deflates, as if he was hoping I would say that I'm staying forever. "Come on, dad. We both know I'm not welcomed here. If I stay any longer a war will break out. It's best for everyone."
