Comeback Route (New Hope #3)

Chapter Eleven

My uncle and cousins are already here. Stephanie was going to hitch with us, but decided to drive herself at the last minute. For some reason, Payton insisted on being in her car. I think he's nervous about the big reveal, and wanted her support. I'm trying not to think about it, but my stomach is clenched in anticipation.

Is there anything I can help with? I ask my brother.

"The girls are going to set the table in a bit," he tells me, glancing toward the dining room. "Would you mind supervising?"

Not at all, I sign.

He pecks my forehead as he passes into the kitchen. "Thanks, sis."

Ten minutes later, I'm in the dining room with Josephine and Arabella when my aunt's car pulls into the lot. Payton gets out, but Stephanie stops him, appearing to give him a pep talk. He stares at her, his expression blank, then nods. They walk through the front door, and Steph aims straight for the kitchen to say hello to her husband and kids. Payton slows his stride in the foyer, glancing at me.

I give him a wave.

He returns it, then proceeds to the living room, head down.

Weird.

A loud clink garners my attention, and I return to my duties. Josie is knocking two dishes together, giggling at the sound they make. Arabella has her arms crossed, and she's peering down her nose at her twin. I step in, showing my nieces where to put the plates. It's difficult giving direction without a voice, but not impossible. The girls don't have a full grasp on the English language, so they're receptive to my method of communication.

After the table is set, my parents take Kendall and the twins outside to burn off their energy. I join the commotion in the kitchen. The cooking area opens into the living room, giving me a view of the cozy space. Flames lick the inside of the chimney, and a football game is on the television. The majority of my extended family is gathered on the couches, watching the teams face off. Payton is seated in the corner of the room, sunken into a leather armchair. His body appears to be made of gelatin. His gaze is on the TV, but he isn't focused on the game.

For the next hour, I offer my assistance in the kitchen. I'm not much of a chef, so Olivia assigns me simple tasks—brush butter on the rolls, take the beef's temperature, make sure the pies are in the spare oven. Olivia is flushed, and she keeps skating her hand over her swollen belly. Steph suggests she put her feet up, but Liv refuses, saying she prefers having something to do at these things. We keep out mouths shut, but my brother is more forceful.

"Sit your ass down, princess," Aidan growls, rubbing the base of Olivia's spine. "You're growing a human. We can handle dinner."

"It's almost done," she argues, reaching for the oven handle.

I block her, signing, I got it.

I set the timer on the vegetables, then remove the roast beef and place it on the stove to rest. I toss the mittens on the counter, turning to ask what I should do next, but Olivia is distracted. She's staring at Payton, who hasn't moved a muscle.

"He's acting odd, right?" she whispers, posing the question to no one in particular. "It isn't just me?"

"Who, P?" Aidan asks, biting into a roll. He chews, speaking around the food. "Oh, he's high as a fucking kite."

I snap my head to him, astonished.

Olivia does the same, but she's able to seek clarification. "What do you mean?"

"I noticed it the second he walked through the door," Aidan explains, chuckling to himself. He points across the open living area at his best friend. "Look at his eyes. See how glassy they are? Dude is in another dimension."