Nathan
June was barely talking to me. According to Sam, she was barely talking to anyone these days, being consumed by homework and the internship she was doing at some tech company known for their photo filter app. It was a big deal that she'd gotten it, and I knew she was giving it all she had, because that was who she was. From the few things my brother remembered to tell me, I figured out that this really was a great opportunity for her. They didn't send her around fixing coffee, which would've been pointless in her case anyway, no, they let her assist on keeping their social media pages up to date, taught her about the structure of the business, and had her writing bits and pieces of code. Yet, I couldn't help but be concerned she was going to burn out.
June was strong and enthusiastic and passionate. That didn't take away the fact she was disabled and that things cost her more energy than it did an able-bodied person. She was at school from eight till two and at the company every day from two-thirty till nine, Monday through Friday. Then, when she got home, she would do her homework, sometimes until deep into the night, judging by the fact she was frequently online at ten am London time. So yeah, considering all that, I had every reason to be worried. Sam told me to chill and that she was fine. Yeah, well, I was going to have to see that with my own eyes first.
She wasn't posting anything on Instagram anymore and scarcely picked up the phone whenever I called her. As a consequence, I sometimes found myself reading back the messages I'd received from her over the years, ranging from "we're out of milk", to "can you pick me up?", "this song is gold!" and "didn't know politeness was time-bound". By now, I was probably able to recite every single poem she'd sent me this summer, and there were seventeen of them.
One evening in the pub, Albert had caught me staring at the one about the eagles. He'd raised his eyebrows at me, the rest of his face as emotionless as ever. "That good?"
I'd felt foolish. How many times had he noticed me scrolling through the texts? What must he be thinking of me, stalking a sixteen-year-old girl like I was some sort of creep?
But I couldn't help myself.
At least, she hadn't forgotten about me completely. In every picture Hayley posted of the two of them, she was wearing the ring, as green as always. Sam was there too sometimes, awkwardly squinting at the camera, even taller than he'd been when I left. I wondered, when we returned to California for Christmas, would it turn out he'd outgrown me? I had the idea my brother was still expecting to find me back at the doorstep at any moment; his usual answer to a question, if he remembered to give me one, was "you'll see when you get home".
The nearer we got to that moment, the more I seemed to long for it, until I found myself spacing out during a dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford one November evening, wondering if June would have another recipe card for me, and what would be on it.
"Nathan? Nathan, are you alright?"
Charlotte had taken my hand, smiling at me. She looked like royalty again, in a long dress, laden with glittering jewelry. I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen her in a simple pair of pants. Her father was watching me with an amused smile, her mother was scanning me like I was an interesting piece of art in one of their galleries, and her cousin Edward's eyes were hooked on me like a hawk. "Err, yeah, sorry. Was thinking about the Brisco case."
"See, Edward," Mr. Rutherford said. "This is a man with proper work ethics."
Great. He should stop giving me compliments, because for one, I didn't deserve them, and two, Edward already hated me enough to begin with. I didn't care that he did, but he was spreading more and more lies about me, constantly putting me on the spot by asking me questions in front of others from which he knew I didn't know the answer to, and it was starting to take its toll on Charlotte.
"We were discussing the Christmas celebrations," her father continued, waving at a waiter to refill his glass. "Thank you, John. Now, where was I? Yes... Christmas dinner. We assumed you'd prefer being seated next to Albert, considering how you two struck up that... remarkable comradeship."
What? I stared at him, at a loss for words — was he under the impression we'd be here? We'd informed him early on we were going to fly back home to be with family. He was someone who preferred to be notified of everything happening around him, from the smallest of fights to the names of his staff, and we'd thought it'd be smart to make our intentions clear from the start.
Charlotte threw me a quick glance, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Dad," she said, "you know we'll be in the US for Christmas. We've told you that before."
Mr. Rutherford shook his head, almost like he was scolding a toddler. "Nonsense! I've had to miss my daughter for three years in a row. I won't have another Christmas without her." He lifted his glass as if to say "end of speech", then turned to me. There was a smile on his face, but I was all too familiar with the sharp glint in his eyes, having seen it many times in my life. "You should understand most of all... Three Christmases without the loveliest girl on earth, ah, the heartache!"
To someone who hadn't grown up in an environment like this one, that might've seemed like the innocent plea of an adoring father. I, however, wasn't as fortunate to be that blissfully ignorant.
I've given you a job and permission to date my daughter. You owe me.
Something tight took its place in my chest. I should've realized. This man wasn't any different from others with power, no matter what Charlotte might claim, and it was foolish of me to think he was.
"Dad, please," she said, oblivious to the messages that were being exchanged. "Nathan just wants to see his brother."
Yes. Sam — and June, of course. But he was never going to let me. Not if I was planning to take Charlotte with me.
"Well, he can invite his brother to come here. Simple solution, isn't it?" He opened his arms, looking around the table, searching for the approval he was sure he was going to get. And yeah, there was nodding, voices muttering "yes, naturally", shrugging... No one disagreed with the big boss, after all.
Asshole.
"But dad—"
"It's alright, Charlotte," I said, "we can stay here. Your father is right, we can just fly Sam in."
For a moment, she narrowed her eyes at me, as if she could see right through me — she couldn't, though. Otherwise, she wouldn't have broken out into a smile, a large one, revealing that secretly, this was what she'd been hoping for, even if she'd never admit it.
Couldn't blame her. What was Christmas without family, anyway?
I was staring into my glass, head leaning on my fist. Normally, I was careful not to place my elbows on the bar, especially if I was wearing a suit. Right now, I couldn't give a fuck.
The brown liquid before me was fizzing, the layer of foam slowly evaporating before my eyes. Topsy had made it an extra-large one; apparently, it looked like I needed it. I probably did, but I couldn't get myself to lift it and take a sip.
Sam would've been horrified of the size, glaring at it like it was some kind of monster.
June would need a straw; no way she could hold this one, it was too heavy. She didn't like the taste of beer anyway. Said it was gross, too bitter, and especially foul when you had to slurp it in through a plastic straw. Still, she would've loved to try one. This was England, after all, where people weren't living in a fantasy world; she wouldn't be able to order alcohol herself yet for another year, though it was legal for an adult to buy it for someone over the age of sixteen. And she'd be seventeen soon.
Seventeen. Could you believe it?
Albert was examining me, had been for a while. I wished he'd stop that. It was getting on my nerves. Topsy had asked him what was up with me, and I didn't understand how, but she'd interpreted his three-word answer correctly.
I'd thought I'd escaped this. Manipulative, unscrupulous people, always out to get more control, more domination, extorting employees who most of the time weren't even aware of being used. Pushing their own kids around to get maximum profit, appearing to be so generous and considerate, until the day you had a different opinion than them.
I knew how it worked. What I didn't understand was how I'd gotten caught up in it again.
"Why not invite her?"
Oh. He was talking to me. Dazedly, I glanced up, to the one English man I was sure of would never play dirty games like these. "Who?" My head was a blurred chaos. The watch around my wrist seemed to sit too tight. I was glad grandpa wasn't here to see me like this.
"June."
"June?"
Albert didn't say anything, leisurely picking up his own beer and swallowing a mouthful. He was talkative today, in a good mood, and I wondered if it had any particular reason, and if so, I could have some of it, because I was in desperate need of some positive news.
June. I'd contemplated it, of course. The whole damn night. But Sam, in a stroke of unexpected brilliance, had asked me if he could fly her abuela in for Christmas, as a surprise, and needless to say, I'd said yes. I suspected his sudden thoughtfulness had less to do with June and more with impressing Hayley, but I didn't mind. Flying in someone's grandma was certainly a step up from dropping dictionaries on your head.
It did mean I couldn't propose June to spend Christmas in London, and to separate her from Sam seemed like an even worse idea.
"I can't. Her abuela is visiting. They haven't seen each other in three years." After a questioning look from Albert, which wasn't any more than a slight tilt of the head, I added: "Her grandma. What? It's basic Spanish." He was still staring at me, not in the slightest giving me a hint to what he thought about the whole deal, and all at once, I wanted to explain everything. "I did think about inviting both of them, plus her parents, and Sam, of course. Only, that'd be insensible, right? Dragging five people here, while I have to attend office dinners with people I can't stand most of the time? We're going to be busy hiding behind trees to avoid Edward... I'm sure they all have better ways to spend their holiday. Especially June. June would hate it."
June would hate it if she'd see how I ended up. Is that why she didn't call anymore?
At that moment, something happened I'd never believed to be possible: behind his glasses, Albert's eyes softened, his usually closed mouth curling up into a smile. A real smile. It didn't last long, a few seconds maybe, but it had been there, I was sure of it. All of the wrinkles in his forehead vanished temporarily, making him appear much younger, all of his authority gone with the wind.
It scared the shit out of me.
Albert didn't smile. Never. And I didn't get why he was now.
I couldn't watch him; it felt like the world had gone upside down.
"I've got a solution. Permanent."
My head shot back up. Frowning, I wondered if I'd heard it right, and if so, how in the hell he could've solved my problems in a second while I'd been failing to do that for hours now. "Which is?"
"Soon."
I didn't know if it made sense that that one word eased all of the tension and that suddenly, the beer looked appealing after all; I just knew it did. Whatever Albert was planning, I hoped it would get me out of this situation, because sorry Charlotte, but no girl was worth falling back into the trap I'd spend years to get out of.