Catch a Mate by Gena Showalter Page A

angels with their sweet, round faces but they were devils in their souls.
    The chance of Jillian settling down and having kids was very remote, so she lavished all her attention on her nieces.
    â€œGo. To. Bed. Or I’ll tell Daddy you misbehaved.” Pause. “Thank you.” Pause. “She refuses to take her antidepressants,” Brittany said, picking up their conversation as if it had never stopped, “so she’ll end up crying on the shoulder of every man who approaches her, those men will drop her and then she’ll become even more depressed because no one wants her. I feel a suicide attempt coming on—and it won’t be Mom’s!”
    The phone beeped and Jillian sat up straighter as a wave of excitement swept through her. “Hang on. I’m getting another call.” It had to be Marcus, and she could hardly wait to hear his voice—uh, could hardly wait to tell him off, the pig. Amid Brittany’s protests, Jillian clicked over. “What? This had better be an apology.”
    â€œHas Mom called you yet?” her brother Brent—Brittany’s twin—asked. “And why would I apologize to you? I haven’t done a damn thing wrong.”
    She sighed with disappointment. “No, Mom hasn’t called me, and don’t worry about the apology. I’m on the other line with Brit, who’s telling me all about the situation.”
    â€œMom never calls you with her problems,” he grumbled. “It’s not fair. I think she likes you best.”
    â€œShe just wants someone to think of her as normal, and the someone she picked is me. Remember what the therapist said?”
    â€œWants someone to think of her as normal,” he mocked. “I just wish her revelations and breakdowns happened during the day.”
    â€œAgain, remember what the therapist said? She’s alone at night with nothing to distract her.” Jillian paused. “Maybe we should buy her a dog.”
    â€œShe’s allergic, dummy. So, have you talked to Georgia lately?”
    Jillian fell back onto the softness of her mattress. God save her from her family. “She’s dating someone else. You know that, so stop stalking me about her. You should have asked her out when we were teenagers.”
    â€œHow serious is she about the boyfriend? I asked her to a movie earlier today, but she said she had plans with him. What kind of plans?”
    â€œShe’s practically engaged, so leave her alone. Now, goodbye, Brent,” she said and clicked over.
    â€œâ€”to bed,” Brittany was saying over loud giggles. “I’m serious, girls. This is your last warning. Steven! Steven, the girls won’t go to bed.”
    The giggling stopped and murmuring took its place, then Steven’s deep voice drifted over the line. “All right, my little fruit pies, let’s give your mommy some privacy.” Static, kissing noises. “Love you, bunnybear.”
    â€œLove you, too, sugarbutt,” Brittany said.
    Jillian gagged. Thankfully, her other line beeped again, saving her from having to hear the rest. She clicked over. “What now, Brent.”
    Silence.
    â€œBrent. Please. No heavy breathing or I’ll have to hurt you.”
    â€œUh, Jillian?”
    Everything inside of Jillian froze. Hatred filled her, as did longing and need and all the tears she hadn’t shed over him these many years. “I told you not to call here, Dad.”
    â€œBrent told me you were up. I just wanted—”
    Hand shaking, she clicked over. “—cutest man I’ve ever seen,” Brittany was cooing.
    â€œAnd you’re—” Steven began.
    â€œI’m here, I’m here,” Jillian said hastily. She forced her dad’s phone call from her mind. Just like she always did. He would not affect her in any way. “Brent called me,” she said. “Mom called him, too.”
    â€œWhy does she always call us in