In The Weeds by Borison B.K

Author:Borison, B.K.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-18T00:00:00+00:00

“I told you, I’m not going.”

I peer out of the kitchen to the living room where Evelyn is wrapped up in four blankets on the couch, a mug of tea cupped gently between her hands. The cats have all burrowed in various spots in her cocoon. I can see Vixen by her shoulder, her tail curled gently over the back of Evelyn’s neck. With a purely selfish impulse, I brought her one of my flannels to wear and I can make out the rolled sleeve as she brings the mug to her lips, the collar stretched wide over bare skin.

Gus stopped by not too long ago, the ambulance barreling into my driveway. Evelyn had been mortified, hands curled tight to her chest, quietly asking if bringing the behemoth was really necessary. Gus had chuckled and unloaded his bag, gently checking her over.

“It’s my work whip,” he told her, two fingers pressed to the delicate skin on her wrist as he took her pulse. “Next time I’ll rent a limousine.”

I had made a sound at that. There won’t be a next time. We won’t ever be re-visiting this little trip to the pond again. The next time Evelyn goes there, it’ll be one-hundred-and-two and sunny. I’ll put her on one of those backpack leashes. Now that the fear is gone, I’m left with nothing but a buzz of frustration. I have to hold myself back from sitting close to her, scooping her up against me. I want to feel the heat thrumming beneath her skin. I want to wrap her in seven more blankets and lock her in this house.

I slam the box of tea bags shut and toss the metal container in the cabinet, making enough noise to wake the dead. I somehow manage to not dislodge the phone cradled against my shoulder.

“Oh, now you’re telling me things,” Nova snips on the other end of the line. I can imagine her pinched face, the way her hands clench into fists when she’s pissed about something. “You’ve got a woman—a high profile social media starlet, mind you—staying with you for weeks, and you don’t say anything to anyone. But now you’re telling me. Okay.”

“Didn’t want to make it a thing,” I explain. I also didn’t want all of my sisters showing up on my doorstep. I watch as the social media starlet shifts on the couch, her hand petting at one of the cats. It’s their own fault if they haven’t been paying attention to the phone tree.

“You could have mentioned something at dinner this week.”

Evelyn had been at Stella’s place when I attended family dinner on Tuesday night. I brought her home a Tupperware container of potato salad and she ate it for breakfast, three days in a row.

“There was nothing to mention.”

Nova snorts.

“I have no idea how long she’s staying and you guys get … weird.”

They get invasive. All of the rooms in this house would have suddenly found themselves occupied by the sisters Porter if I so much as mentioned Evelyn’s name.

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