Read Online More Bitter Than Death by Dana Cameron - Free Book Online Page B

then, and I was right! I knew I wasn’t ready—what kid is when he’s twenty-three?”
    I took deep breaths, working to calm myself. “I knew. At least, I was pretty sure.” And I was a year younger than you, I added to myself.
    He shrugged. “Maybe you were. Can’t you forgive me for not being ready? For being scared?”
    It was my turn to shrug. “I don’t have a problem with people being scared. I have a problem when they don’t handle it well.”
    “I apologized for that already.”
    We both knew there was a big, nasty elephant still standing in the middle of the room. “And the other thing?” There were a lot of “other things,” and I was curious to see which one he’d pick.
    “Yeah, and you know that lasted about ten minutes, same as my next half-dozen ‘relationships.’ It’s taken me a long time to sort out my act.”
    I said, “I just want to keep the story straight. You were seeing her long before you walked out on me.” Christ, why couldn’t I keep from sounding so shrill? “If we’re going to discuss it. Civilly.” As soon as I said it, I realized that I didn’t want to discuss it, I was too tired and had too much else I’d rather do. Get a Brazilian wax, clean a septic tank, shove splinters under my nails…
    “Okay.” He turned to the door, then paused. What would it take him to get all the way through that door and close it behind him? “My mother really appreciated the note that you sent. When Dad died.”
    Damn it, that was low. And just when I had been working up a really good head of steam. “Your dad was a great guy,” I said simply. “And your mother…I really liked her a lot. It was the least I could do.”
    “She misses you. A lot. She likes Cindy—my wife, now—but she really liked you. She wouldn’t mind hearing from you.”
    I snorted. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”
    “It’s for Mom. That’s all.”
    “I’ll see you, Duncan.”
    He finally left. I waited, then picked up my slides, finished placing them back in order, and left the slide room. I ducked back into the doorway when I saw Jay was also heading for the elevators. Thank God; I was pretty sure he didn’t see me. I just didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to talk to anyone.
    No such luck. “Emma! Get your ass in here!” Lissa called from the bar.
    Much of our poker group had coalesced around Laurel’s table by this time; I was reminded of the old computer game, Life, when groups of cells formed, moved, broke off, reformed. I shook my head; I was way too tired.
    “Now, Fielding!” Chris bellowed: He was deep into the beer and I went over to keep him from shouting again.
    “I’m heading up to my room,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m beat!”
    “What! It’s only Wednesday! You can’t crap out on us so soon!” he said. “Let me get you a drink.”
    “I’m serious, man. I’ve had a rough night.”
    “Why, what’s wrong, Emma?”
    “Oh, I…I went for a walk and got the stuffing scared out of me. Noises outside spooked me. I ran all the way from the beach to my room. I was just checking my slides to try and calm down, but I’m going to go to sleep now.”
    “Hey, Emma got scared by Sue’s ghost,” Lissa yelled, laughing hysterically.
    “Emma needs to lay off work, if she’s seeing ghosts,” Scott said. “C’mon, have another drink!”
    “Tomorrow, I promise,” I said. “G’night everyone.”
    After a few more protests, I escaped. Once I got up to my room, I glanced at the clock but went straight for the phone anyway.
    A sleepy, grumpy voice answered. “Hello?”
    I didn’t let it bother me. My younger sister, Charlotte—and while she might be Carrie to her few friends and veterinarian colleagues, she’d always be my kid sister Bucky to me—is always either sleepy or grumpy. “It’s me, Bucks.”
    “Hey, Em.” I heard muffled voices, the television being muted in the background. “What’s up?”
    “I can’t just call you to say hi?”
    “Not