Test (A Gentry Generations Story) Read online

  “When we were kids sometimes our parents would drive us to this neighborhood at Christmas to check out the lights,” I said, remembering something I hadn’t thought of in years. “This whole street was always all decked out.”

  Paige nodded. “Most of the neighbors are still really into that. But we haven’t participated in a long time.”

  Suddenly she looked down and reddened. Then she snatched some ugly blanket off a chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. I wondered why. The thing looked itchy and the temperature wasn’t exactly frosty today. Maybe she didn’t want us to notice she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her cute little dress. If so, she was too late. I’d already noticed.

  Kellan had decided to make himself at home on the faded couch. “We must have passed this house a thousand times, right Derek? Always wondered about the people who lived here.”

  “My grandmother was a fan of Victorian architecture,” Paige explained. “So after my grandfather’s real estate business started booming they hired an architect to design this place.”

  “And they still live here too?” I asked, noticing there were family photos on the walls and tables.

  “No.” Paige sat on the arm of a brown leather armchair that had probably been high quality at one time but was now cracked in a few dozen places. She sighed and it seemed like she’d deflated a little. “My grandma died of breast cancer when I was a freshman in high school. And my grandfather was sick for a long time. Two years ago he had a stroke in his sleep and never woke up. So it’s just me living here now.”

  “Just you?” I was surprised. This was a big house for one girl to occupy.

  “Just me,” she repeated and pulled the hideous blanket tighter around herself.

  A few seconds of awkward silence followed. Kellan had found a picture book about the history of airplanes and was leisurely flipping through it over on the couch. It figured he had nothing to say the one time I actually wanted him to talk.

  Paige watched me. I watched her back. She looked really small sitting on the edge of that big armchair.

  “I was worried about you,” I told her.

  “Worried about me?” She was surprised. “I didn’t even get hurt.”

  I didn’t believe that. There was more than one way to get hurt. I remembered how she’d collapsed in my arms and burrowed against my chest. And I remembered the protective instinct I’d felt last night. I was feeling it again now.

  “You had a hell of a scare,” I said. “In a way that can be worse than getting cut.”

  “That might be true.” Her eyes focused on my arm again. “But I’d still prefer not to get cut.”

  “Can’t deny this stings like a bitch.” I glanced at my brother, who was still engrossed in his airplane book. The dude could be weird sometimes. “Look, I’m sorry that we just barged in on you like this.”

  “Oh no, I’m glad you did. I didn’t get a chance to thank you last night. I’m really grateful you were there, Derek.” She smiled. When most people smiled it didn’t matter much. It was just a slight variation of their normal expression. And then there were people whose smiles could turn the world inside out. Paige had one of those smiles.

  I wanted to scoff and tell her it was no big deal, that I’d only been out in search of something to get drunk with. But instead I just said, “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you keep thinking about it?” she wanted to know. “Does it all just keep replaying in your head?”

  “Trying not to,” I admitted.

  Paige tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

  “I didn’t sleep so well myself.”

  She nodded and seemed distracted, pulling at a strand of yarn hanging from the blanket. “It was so embarrassing.”

  That was a strange thing to say. “No need to be embarrassed,” I assured her. “You can’t predict when some psycho’s going to lose his shit. It’s certainly not your fault.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She sucked on her lower lip and her eyes shyly met mine. “I tried to go to work today. I got sent home home because I started crying like an idiot and I couldn’t stop. My boss was very understanding but he gave me a few days off because apparently no one wants their pepperoni pizza with a side of traumatic tears.”

  Now Kellan decided to perk up since the conversation had turned to food. “You work at a pizza place?”

  “Yup. Esposito’s on Mill.”

  “No kidding.” Kellan set the airplane book down. “I’m in there all the time but I’ve never seen you.”

  “That’s because I’m always back in the kitchen. I tried being a server once and hated it.”

  “How come?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose I’m just not a people person.”

  Kellan accepted that and moved on. “So what happened between you and Todd Benedict?”

  I almost groaned aloud. The kid had no tact. None. The girl was sitting here pouring her heart out and all he could do is quiz her about some dopey teenage bullshit.

  “Todd Benedict?” Paige wrinkled her nose. “That was high school for crying out loud.”

  “Kel,” I warned, sitting down on the couch next to him so I could elbow him in the ribs if necessary. “Lay off.”

  He looked at me with wide eyes as if he couldn’t imagine what he might have done wrong.

  I apologized to Paige. “I’m really sorry about my little brother. He doesn’t respond to subtlety so feel free to tell him to go to hell.”

  “It’s all right.” She seemed amused and nodded at Kellan. “So I take it Todd is a friend of yours?”

  “Fuck no,” Kellan said.

  “Good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s a narcissistic dickhead with a cow milking fetish.”

  “I knew it!” Kellan said. Then he nudged me and asked, “What’s a cow milking fetish?”

  “You’re too young to know,” I said and Paige laughed. She had a sweet laugh. When she laughed the edge of her ugly yarn blanket slipped and revealed a smooth shoulder. I wished she’d laugh again.

  Kellan snapped his fingers. “You need to come to dinner with us. Our mom is making brisket. It’s not a cure for post traumatic stress symptoms but it’s a nice distraction.”

  Paige looked doubtful. “Thanks, but I was just going to stay in tonight.”

  Kellan wasn’t going to accept defeat easily. “Come on, it’s spring break. Everyone else around here is off fucking their brains out on a beach somewhere.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with Mom’s brisket?” I grumbled.

  “Because it’s the best offer any of us are going to have tonight. Besides, I already texted Mom and said I’d invited Paige.”

  I didn’t believe him. “When did you do that?”

  “Just now.”

  “You were reading an airplane book just now.”

  “I was only pretending. Anyway, Mom’s excited about meeting the girl you saved.”

  This was getting old. “I didn’t save anyone.”

  “Yes you did,” Paige said. She seemed surprised that I was even arguing about it. “The clerk would have gotten stabbed again for sure. He might have died. And who knows what could have happened to me.” She shuddered, her face growing pale as the memory flooded back. And there went the tiny knife twisting inside my chest again.

  “I really wish you would come to dinner,” I said because I couldn’t handle the idea of her sitting in this huge house alone and reliving her worst nightmare all evening. No, I couldn’t let her do that. “I promise the rest of my family behaves better than Kellan.”

  “That’s not true,” Kellan argued. “But you should come anyway.”

  Paige was considering. I was afraid she’d say no. I tried to think of reasons to convince her. But then she nodded.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll come.”

  “Can I make a suggestion though?” Kellan asked.

  “What’s that?”

 
“Our folks like to keep the house cool and tend to crank the air conditioner.”

  She was perplexed. “So?”

  He pointed. “So you might want to put on a bra.”

  “Oh my fucking god,” I muttered.

  Luckily Paige wasn’t offended. She threw off her hideous yarn coverlet. “Give me five minutes,” she said and ran upstairs.

  “You’re an asshole,” I informed my brother.

  He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter Seven

  Paige

  I never expected to find myself sitting shotgun in Derek Gentry’s car as he drove to his parents’ house for dinner. Derek drove with care, keeping his eyes on the road and his hands firmly fixed at ten and two while his brother peppered me with a series of unrelated questions from the backseat.

  He asked if I could sneak him some free pizza from Esposito’s.

  He asked if I went to ASU.

  He asked if I had a boyfriend.

  He asked if I liked the latest addition to the Star Wars franchise.

  Usually I wasn’t the most forthcoming person in the world but his questions didn’t bother me because Kellan could manage to be charming at the same time he was being a little annoying.

  Derek gave up on trying to stop his brother from saying whatever popped into his head and we didn’t have far to drive anyway. As we pulled up to the curb of the Gentry home I could see people in the kitchen because all the windows were lit and all the shades were open. It was a one story ranch-style tract home that was probably less than half the size of my house but even before I set foot inside I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a much happier place. Any house that was filled with a family was bound to be happier than one that echoed with emptiness.

  Kellan had already hopped out of the car the second it came to stop but Derek remained behind the wheel, staring out the driver’s side window at the house.

  “You sure this is okay?” I asked him. “That I’m here I mean?”

  “What?” He looked my way and broke into a smile. “Yeah, of course it’s okay. My folks are the informal type.” He opened the door. “Come on.”

  Kellan was already inside. We found him in the foyer talking to a guy who had to be the youngest Gentry brother. He was tall, athletically built and blessed with the family good looks. His hair was a few shades lighter than that of his two brothers and he looked like he spent a lot of time in the sun.

  He clapped when he spotted Derek. “All hail the Super Q Hero,” he announced and grabbed his brother in a rather rough hug that I hoped didn’t inflict pain on Derek’s stitches.

  The noise drew Derek’s parents out of the kitchen and they made a big fuss, hugging him and exclaiming over the bandage on his arm. I could instantly see the resemblance between the three boys and their dad. He joked constantly and had passed down his devilish grin down to his sons. Derek’s mom on the other hand came across as more serious. She inspected her son carefully and asked him questions about his stab wound before kissing his cheek and hugging him tight. Derek took all the attention in stride, like he was used to being treated like a prince every time he walked through the door. I wondered what that was like.

  “Hello there,” said Derek’s dad when he noticed me. In the midst of all the fascinating family affection I’d kind of pressed myself against the front door to stay out of the way.

  “Hi,” I said, waving like a fool. “I’m Paige.”

  The man and his wife were obviously mystified by my appearance, meaning Kellan hadn’t cleared the invitation with them after all. But Derek stepped in and explained that I was a friend and I was also one of the people who happened to be at the Super Q last night when all hell broke loose.

  Kellan, however, wouldn’t allow the details to slide. “You’ve seen the video, right? Paige over here was the girl who was getting chased by that knife-wielding fuckwit. He almost got her until Derek stepped in and flattened the son of a bitch.”

  “Really?” the younger brother asked and started searching on his phone, presumably for the video. He watched it for a few seconds, raised his eyebrows and looked right at me. “Are you all right?” he asked, distress shadowing his excessively handsome expression.

  “I’m fine,” I said, although a distinctly sour taste had risen in my mouth.

  “Candy.”

  Derek’s mother came forward first. “Stephanie Gentry,” she said. She had a firm handshake. “I’m very happy to meet you. You said your name’s Paige, right?”

  “Yes. Nice to meet you too.”

  I didn’t miss the way Stephanie conducted a brief appraisal of me and I was glad I’d taken Kellan’s advice and avoided the risk of conspicuous nipples, choosing to change into cropped jeans and a green short sleeve Henley shirt.

  Stephanie was pleased enough with my appearance to offer a smile and ask if I would like a glass of water. I met Derek’s father, Chase Gentry, who taught at a high school in Chandler. I also met Thomas Gentry, the youngest brother who would be graduating in a few months and was narrowing down his college choices from among the ones that had offered him a full baseball scholarship.

  Derek moved to stand beside me while I met his family. It felt curiously intimate, as if I was being presented as something other than a near stranger who happened to share a harrowing experience with him. But I couldn’t deny that ever since I opened my front door and found Derek standing there earlier this evening I’d breathed a little easier.

  Stephanie summoned her husband to help set out the food. Apparently dinner was going to be buffet style. I hoped that wasn’t because of my unexpected arrival. But then I learned I wouldn’t be the only dinner guest.

  “Uncle Creed and Aunt Truly are coming over,” Thomas said, poking at his eldest brother. “They heard you were going to be here for dinner and invited themselves. You know how Aunt Truly is; she won’t be satisfied until she’s seen for herself that you’re not maimed.”

  “So everyone prepare to be engulfed,” Kellan declared, investigating the dishes that had already been set out on the sideboard.

  “Engulfed by what?” I wanted to know.

  “Aunt Truly hugs,” Thomas explained.

  “Hugs who?”

  “Everyone,” Kellan answered. He popped a crescent roll into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “We’re actually an entire family filled with insatiable huggers.”

  I snorted. “Is that right?”

  “Yeah.” Suddenly he grinned, spread his arms and began walking towards me. “You feel like participating in the family business?”

  Derek shoved his brother away before he got too close. “Stand down,” he growled and threw me an apologetic look.

  “Kellan, that’s not how you should ever approach a woman who’s just been through a terrifying experience,” lectured Thomas.

  His brothers stared at him.

  Then Kellan laughed. “Listen to the little wise man over here.”

  But Derek kept his gazed fixed on me. There was something daunting about being an object of Derek Gentry’s attention. I wished I knew what was going on in his head. Derek was a mystery. He had a hell of a scandalous past but obviously enjoyed a good relationship with his loving family. He wouldn’t hesitate to stand up to a knife-wielding lunatic and yet he had a reputation as a dimwitted party boy. I really didn’t know who he was. I just knew that I liked being next to him.

  When Derek’s aunt and uncle arrived the room got really loud for a few minutes. The woman they called Aunt Truly lived up to her reputation as a hugger of epic magnitude. She enveloped her nephews one at a time and fretted over Derek’s bandaged stitches until he got embarrassed. Kellan must have thought I was feeling left out because he decided to announce my role in the Super Q Hero drama.

  Truly Gentry’s eyes widened and she immediately wrapped her soft arms around me, saying “You poor little sweetheart,” in a southern accent and telling me how happy she was that I was okay even though she hadn’t known I existed until a moment ago. S
trangely, receiving such lavish attention from someone else’s aunt felt quite nice and I didn’t mind at all.

  Dinner was casual. Chase and Stephanie finished delivering piles of food and ordered us to grab a paper plate and start eating. The brothers each piled enough food on their plates to feed four grown men and Kellan teased me for only taking birdlike quantities so I helped myself to a bit more. We ate outside on the back patio, balancing plates of food and cans of soda.

  There were multiple conversations happening at once so I nibbled at my food and listened. Derek was repeating last night’s events to Truly’s husband, Creed. Thomas was talking to his dad about a baseball game he was supposed to be pitching in this week. Stephanie and Truly were talking about various family members. Someone was apparently pregnant and someone else was graduating from college soon.

  Kellan was sitting in the chair closest to me and decided I needed an education on the Gentrys. In between bites of meat, corn on the cob and buttered biscuits he summarized the members of his extended family. It was very confusing web. Aunts and uncles and cousins and this guy a half brother of that guy and so on, with a set of triplets that included Chase Gentry at the core. I hoped there wouldn’t be a quiz at the end.

  Eventually Derek noticed that I was being held captive by his talkative brother. He tossed his empty plate in a trash can and moved his chair closer.

  “Kel, change the subject. Paige doesn’t want to hear about the time our piece of shit grandfather banged his second cousin’s wife.”

  “Do you live around here, Paige?” Truly asked and since there happened to be a lull in all the other conversations everyone was now looking at me and waiting to hear the answer.

  “Only a couple of miles away,” I said.

  “Paige lives in The Gingerbread House,” Kellan said.

  Truly’s husband Creed was confused. “She lives in a gingerbread house?”

  “You mean the house over on Richland Street?” Stephanie Gentry asked.

  “Yes,” I admitted.