Read Online Winning the Right Brother by Abigail Strom - Free Book Online Page B

antiseptic on these,” he said. Holly didn’t respond, and Alex wasn’t sure she’d heard him. He wasn’t sure she knew he was there. Her eyes were wide and dark as she stared over his shoulder at her house, her face lit by the garish light of the flames.
    “Holly,” he said softly, trying to reach her. “Holly,” he said again, cupping her face in his hands and moving so he was blocking her vision, blocking the sight of the fire. Her frozen stare finally wavered, but she still didn’t see him.
    “My fault,” she said, so softly that Alex almost missed it.
    “What do you mean?” he asked gently, stroking the hair away from her soot-streaked face.
    “This is my fault. Will noticed something in the kitchen, a smell that worried him. I told him I would check it out. I didn’t. I had a hangover, and I forgot. It must have been the wiring in the kitchen. I’m the mom, it’s my job to—oh, God, I’m the mom—what a joke, what a damned joke—”
    She started to shake, and Alex pulled her into a rough hug. “This is not your fault, Holly.” Her face was buried against his shoulder, and for just a moment the tension holding her body rigid eased a little. But then she jerked upright, pushing him away from her.
    “It is my fault,” she said harshly. “I got drunk last night and I was hungover today and I didn’t pay any attention to what Will was saying. He could have died in that fire because of me. Because I was careless and irresponsible. I don’t get to make mistakes, Alex. I’m the only parent Will has. Of course it’s my fault.”
    Alex gripped her shoulders. “Stop it, Holly. Stop blaming yourself.”
    “My mattress,” she said, staring toward the house again. Alex glanced back over his shoulder and saw that the firemen had managed to contain the blaze. No sign of a mattress, though.
    “What are you talking about, Holly?”
    “It’s brand-new. I just bought it. Oh, God, my mattress!” She struggled to her feet and watched the firemen douse the last of the flames, leaving a blackened, smoking ruin. “There’s nothing left. It’s all gone. Everything that belonged to my grandmother. All the beautiful things she made.”
    Her voice sounded numb, dazed, and Alex wanted so much to help her it was like an ache in his gut.
    “Will’s baby pictures. All our photo albums. All our—”
    Alex listened helplessly as she recited the litany of loss in a dead voice. “I know it’s terrible,” he said, wincing at the inadequacy of his words. “But you and Will are safe, Holly. Try to focus on that. That’s all that really matters.”
    Holly turned to look at him, and for the first time since he’d found her behind the house Alex felt like she was actually seeing him.
    “Safe,” she repeated. “Safe.” She backed away a couple of steps and gave a bitter laugh. “Sure, right, we’re safe.” She stood still for a moment, her eyes on him with something unreadable in their depths. When she spoke again her voice was cold and remote. “You must really be enjoying this, Alex.”
    His head snapped back as if she’d punched him in the face.
    “What?”
    “You heard me. This must be your idea of heaven.”
    He stared at her. “How can you say that? How could you even think it? You think I enjoy seeing you—”
    “Vulnerable? Yes, I do.” A spark of anger flared up in her eyes, and Alex told himself that any emotion was better than the empty, terrible numbness he’d seen in her a moment ago.
    “You always show up when life hits me in the face, don’t you? It’s your favorite sideshow. I’m stuck-upand condescending and holier-than-thou, right? Just ripe for a fall. And you love it when that happens, when I get knocked down. Or knocked up, as the case may be.”
    Alex looked at her warily. “Holly, you’re not making sense right now. You’re in shock. It’s good to let out the pain you’re feeling, but—”
    “All through high school you wanted me to screw up, to make a mistake, to