The Game by A.B. Wilson

The Game by A.B. Wilson

Author:A.B. Wilson [Wilson, A.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group
Published: 2022-01-22T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Sixteen

Matti

The sound of multiple generations shrieking and the acrid scent of burnt pine needles was apparent even from outside the modern glass and stucco mansion as we rang the bell. Our gazes clashed involuntarily as the sounds passed through the door, lots of questions in Abby’s big gray eyes and raised eyebrows. I shrugged. My family was chaos. Pounding feet followed by an exasperated shout from my sister. “Girls, leave the door. I’ve got it!”

The massive frosted-glass door opened slowly and two pairs of eyes appeared roughly at my waist level. My six-year-old hellion nieces, Tess and Trudy. “Onkle Matti!” they shouted in German, and babbled on asking me if I’d brought a soccer ball, if I wanted to play because no one else did, and how they were sorry about the fire but it was a little one and everyone had overreacted.

“Girls, English? This is Abby, my fiancée, and she has no idea what you’re saying. I’m sure she’s very interested in hearing about the fire,” I said and grinned at Abby.

Her eyebrows hovered near her hairline. “Fire?” her perfect lips mouthed at me.

“Matti? Is that you? I never thought I’d say this, but thank god you’re here.” My sister Ella appeared behind her daughters, pushing her flyaway blonde bangs back. She was wearing a fuzzy white sweater that seemed to be streaked in gray and brown ash and stank of skunky tree sap, like a resiny joint that had been lit and extinguished in a hurry because the cops were coming.

“Aw, Ella. You missed me and you know it.”

“Absolutely. Girls, go find your father. Matti will play with you in a bit—you will, right, Matti?”

“Of course,” I said and watched the girls take off back into the house my brother and his wife had recently bought on the beach south of L.A. I could see the rest of my family clustered around a singed evergreen through one of the big windows, my mother gesturing theatrically before flopping down on a chaise and covering her face. My father hovered over her in concern. “Oomph,” I grunted as a sharp elbow dug into my ribs. “Oh, Ella, this is Abby, my fiancée.”

“It’s so nice to meet you—” Abby stepped forward and extended her hand to my sister, who looked at it, then looked down at her own dirty hand and sighed, waving us in.

“Nice to meet you too. Welcome to the Shellenberg family madness—burned Christmas trees and all,” she said over her shoulder as she hurried back toward the living room.

Abby was nonplussed and gave me a “what is wrong with your family?” eyebrow wiggle. I shrugged again, helplessly. My sister wasn’t always comfortable with social niceties or new people and often came off as cold and abrasive, but there were reasons for that no one ever talked about.

Ella had struggled for years trying to fit in and operate normally amidst a family that simply ignored differences. I hadn’t told Abby about Ella since it didn’t feel like my



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