Read Online The Heartbreakers by Pamela Wells - Free Book Online Page A

Drew called or emailed or something? Was he deliberately avoiding her? She picked up her cell phone and double-checked her messages. Still nothing. She called his cell and voice mail picked up right away.
    â€œYou reached Drew. Leave it after the beep.” Beep.
    â€œDrew, call me!”
    She flipped the phone closed and went out to the kitchen. Her mother was at the table, clicking away on her laptop. The laptop and her BlackBerry were permanent tools at her side now that she was an executive at SunBery Vitamins. It’d taken her ten years of hard work but she finally got to the top. Sydney was proud of her for reaching her goal, but it didn’treally feel like she had a mother anymore. Or any parental unit for that matter. Sydney wondered if her mom’s new position was putting a rift in her parents’ relationship.
    She watched her father pull a pan of meat loaf out of the oven, floral oven mitts on his hands. He’d taken over the role of Mr. Mom in the last two years. He was getting better at it, but occasionally he forgot to buy toilet paper or misplaced the cable bill, which resulted in an hour’s worth of searching the house. That is, until Sydney logged into their account online and printed out a new bill.
    His dinners were improving, too, but Sydney hated meat loaf. It was her mother’s favorite, though, so she couldn’t fault her dad for making it.
    Sydney came up beside him. His silver-framed glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. She noticed more gray hair on his head than black. A year ago, she might have poked fun at him for it, but now he wouldn’t laugh or make fun of himself. He’d just shrug and probably say, “I’m not going to stay young forever.” He was rarely in a good mood anymore.
    â€œNeed any help?” she asked. She didn’t really feel like helping, but it was something to get her mind off Drew’s flakiness.
    â€œNo,” he said as he set the pan on the stovetop and poked the meat with a knife. Sydney swore she saw it breathe. “Thanks for asking though.” He turned to his wife. “Honey, dinner is done.”
    â€œAll right.” She clicked in a few more things on her laptop. “I’m almost finished. Just five more minutes.”
    Mr. Howard nodded and got plates out, then started slicing up the meat loaf. Sydney groaned, seeing the moist meat on herplate. She didn’t want to be here right now—certainly not eating that. Her house had become this silent, half-living thing. She could predict exactly what would happen over dinner.
    Her dad would serve the food. He’d pour the drinks. He’d try to make small talk with his wife until her cell would ring, or her email alert would go off. Then she’d bury herself back in her work, ignoring Mr. Howard and Sydney.
    â€œDad, I think I’m skipping dinner tonight.”
    He pushed his glasses back. “You have to eat.”
    â€œBut not meat loaf.” And not at the table, either. She’d take her food to her room. At least there she’d have the TV to keep her company instead of two bodies that moved and breathed but had somehow forgotten how to communicate.
    â€œWell,” her dad said, “I haven’t gotten groceries yet, so there isn’t much else.”
    Sydney opened the fridge. There was leftover spaghetti from three nights ago on the top shelf. Grapes and sour cream were on the second. She grabbed a carton of blueberry yogurt and read the expiration date in the fridge’s light. OCT 10 . Way overdue for the trash can.
    Throwing the yogurt away, she went on to the cupboards and found them in the same sad shape.
    Correction: Her house had become this silent, half-living, empty thing.
    The thought of spending her Saturday night like this made Sydney want to cry for another two hours. Or sleep for a month.
    â€œI’m going to Alexia’s,” she announced. There was always food at Alexia’s.