Paper Thin

Why the hell hadn’t he said anything to me?

“Go with him. Check the woods,” Emma gutted me by saying. “She’s gone in the woods once before. She never makes it far though. I’ll finish things for the party.” She glanced at her watch. I knew she was counting down. There couldn’t be much longer until the next guests arrived.

“Okay.” I started toward the back of the house without checking to see if Dawson was following me.

“Thank you, Char,” Emma said. I hated how sweet her voice sounded, how grateful she seemed that I was helping.

The sun beat down on me as I kicked off the killer heels I had on before stepping foot into the woods behind my house. They weren’t thick, but I knew better than to enter them with heels on. A broken ankle was not something I needed to add to this visit. It had already been crazy and hurtful enough.

I moved a few branches of low-lying bushes away so I could step through, my eyes sca

“I thought you knew.” His voice was hesitant and low.

“Well, I didn’t.” I watched where I was walking, not wanting to look at him.

“She’s your sister,” he said as though it made all the difference in the world. “Don’t the two of you talk about stuff like that?”

“We talk. Sometimes.” I wasn’t sure why I answered him. We were supposed to be looking for my mentally unstable mother, not working through whatever this awkwardness between us was.

I wanted to dig a hole and die. Dawson knew I still had feelings for him. My mind flashed back to the lake last night, to the way I had looked at him as he climbed out of the water. How could he not? Jesus, I had made myself look like an idiot. My cheeks heated, and I could feel the warmth from my embarrassment spread down my neck.

“This was sort of a big thing,” he continued. His pace still matched mine, and I became hyperaware of the short amount of space between us. “Me asking her to marry me seems like something she would call you and mention.”

One would think. Why hadn’t she? Was it because she knew I would care? I frowned, because apparently she knew me better than I knew myself. She had been right. I did care for some crazy reason.

“She didn’t. Okay. I don’t know why it matters to you anyway.”

I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t meet his gaze. I swept the area, searching for my mom. Once we found her, I could end this moment with Dawson. There would be no more talking with him tonight. Or ever. I wouldn’t talk to him unless I had to, or at least until I could view him as my sister’s husband and not someone I had wanted for most of my life.

“I think it’s sad is all.” His words surprised me. I glanced at him then. “You two used to be so close. What happened?”

I blinked. Nothing. Nothing had happened between us. There wasn’t an argument that tore us apart or any life-changing event. Not really. We had begun to drift apart before Mom became sick. It was just life. My sister and I were different people, and that was it. Night and day.

“Nothing happened.” I shrugged.

“Something had to of happened to cause such distance between the two of you.”

“We grew up.” It was the only answer I could give, because there wasn’t another reason.

It wasn’t as though I wanted things to be this way between Emma and me. I had always wanted the opposite. I wanted us to be best friends, to call each other and talk for hours about everything and nothing. It just wasn’t the way we were. The distance between us was hard to erase, and we had nothing to pin the blame on.

We each sucked at being a sibling. It was as simple as that.

A soft moan caught my attention, pulling me from my thoughts. It was coming from somewhere to my right.

“That—” Dawson started, but I held up a hand to quiet him. Listening carefully, I waited for the noise to come again.

When it did, my eyes widened.

“Mom?” I called out. “Mom, it’s Charlotte. Where are you?”

Another moan rolled through the air to my ears.

“Over there.” Dawson bolted away from me, able to pinpoint where she was faster than I could.

We found her a few feet away. She was lying on the ground behind a large fallen tree.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Montgomery?” He helped her into a sitting position.

“Oh my God,” I gasped. There was a large gash on her cheek and scratches along her right arm. “Mom.”

“I’m okay,” she soothed me. Her eyes locked with mine, and in that moment, she was my mom again. She knew who I was. I could see it in the depths of her eyes. For the first time since I arrived, she was coherent.

“What were you doing out here?” I scolded her, feeling as though our roles had somehow reversed, and she was the child. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.”

Mom waved my words away as she let Dawson help her to her feet. “I wanted to come for a walk. It looked so pretty out here.”

“You should have asked someone to come with you.” I reached for her, offering to help her walk back to the house.

“I’m fine.” She pushed my hand away. Her legs wobbled, but she caught herself before Dawson or me could touch her. “I’m okay.”

I watched her, keeping pace with her. What if she had a concussion? I debated whether I should take her to the emergency room once we got back to the house.

“I know what you’re thinking, and no, I don’t need a doctor,” she said as though she could read my mind.

Normal. This moment. This conversation with her. It was all so normal. Well, minus her disappearing act. Happiness bloomed through me. This was how it should be. Not the tromping through the woods, searching for her, but this ordinary conversation where she knew who I was and what was happening around her. She should always be this way.

“Thank God!” Emma shouted once we broke through the woods and into our backyard. She flew out the kitchen door and straight toward Mom.

“I went for a walk, and got a little turned around,” Mom said as though it was no big deal.

“Why would you do that? You know it’s not safe. We’ve talked about this,” Emma scolded. “What happened to your cheek?”

I watched as Emma gave Mom a thorough onceover, deciding yet again there was no way I could handle this. Was this what it was like day to day for her? How could she handle this? The fact became more apparent the longer I was here; things had gotten so much worse in the few short months since my last visit.

“Dr. Miles will be here shortly. I’ll see if he’ll look at you.” Emma ignored all of our mother’s protests and glanced at Dawson. “Thank you for helping find her again.” A large, gracious smile spread onto her face when she looked at him.

“No problem.” He leaned forward, and placed a soft kiss against my sister’s forehead. She closed her eyes, and I swore I saw all of her tension melt away.

I wanted to continue to hate them together. In fact, I braced myself for the wave of jealousy I expected to crash into me any second from his sweet gesture, but it never did. Emma needed Dawson. I could see that clearly. In that fraction of a second, I came to realize how much the statement was true. Dawson must be what made all of this bearable for her; he must be from where she drew her extra strength.

“Mrs. Nelson brought your dad by for you,” Emma told Dawson as they pulled apart, and started through the back door of our house. “He’s in the living room.”

“I asked him if he wanted to ride with me.” Dawson wrapped his arm around Emma’s waist and pulled her close. “But, he insisted I come spend some time with you first, before all the craziness of the night kept us apart.”