Archive of Our Own

                        ~ 1 ~

 

“I’m ready.”

 

Dad smiled at her, cheeks ruddy and eyes bright. 

 

“Don’t you look beautiful.” He always said that, even when she was sure she looked like crap. Naturally, his kindness called for a big hug. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Rose, sipping coffee at the table.

Sarah glanced at her expectantly.

 

“You called me?” 

 

Rose put her coffee mug on the table and sighed contently, eyes glued to her computer screen. 

 

“Sarah, perfect. I need you to start a batch of sugar cookies first and then you can do the peanut butter blossoms for Wheezie.”

 

“Aren’t you going to cook with me?” Rose’s eyes flickered towards hers before quickly returning to the computer screen. “I’m a bit preoccupied.” “But I thought we were supposed to do this together.” Wasn’t that the whole point? Dad wanted her to bond with Rose. Rose wanted to keep Dad happy. Sarah wanted the same thing. “Something came up,” said Rose, trying to keep the bite out of her tone. This was so typical. Leave it to her to convince Sarah to do one thing, and then back out at the last minute.

 

“Oh, Sarah. What’s the point in teaching you to bake if you watched those YouTube videos I told you to, then you would know what to do.”

Sarah was just about to tell her that she did watch the videos when a soft knock on the dining room doorway captured her attention. 

 

“Hey Dad.” It was Rafe, wearing a pair of colorful shorts and a grey t-shirt. “Have you seen my phone?”

 

Rose looked up from her cup of coffee, as if suddenly intrigued. It was nice to know she could at least pay attention to one of her step children.

 

“I’ll get it for you after I finish my drink,” she said.

 

“You took it? Who the hell gave you the right.”

 

Dad pointed a stern finger at him. 

 

“Watch your mouth.”

 

Rafe whirled around, eyes wild with betrayal.

 

“That’s not fair, Dad! She can’t just —“

 

“You should have attended the family dinner that Rose spent hours cooking.” 

 

Sarah could see her brother physically biting his tongue, keeping back the snarky comments about how Rose literally bought the chicken from Heywards. But he kept the comment to himself. 

 

“Look, I need my phone so I can read this stupid book I downloaded for school. I’m already behind on my homework because someone took my laptop. My schedule’s all messed up because Rose keeps dragging me to her little tea parties with her Barbie friends and I can’t even have the keys to my own car without permission. AND NOW you’re telling me I can’t even read a book for school?” 

 

“Rafe,” Dad interrupted. His voice was quiet but Sarah knew it was the kind of quiet that screamed: I’m really mad right now but I’m trying not to yell at you in front of Rose. “Do you want to go in the other room and talk?” 

 

Not good. Sarah pictured a plane taking a nose dive to earth.  

 

Rafe’s whole body tensed on the spot. They both knew that was Dad’s polite way of saying, ‘Rose doesn’t want to hear me beating your ass, nor does she want to see me beating your ass, but rest assured I will still drag you by the hair into the livingroom and beat your freaking ass if you don’t shut up.

 

Her brother was not an idiot. She would never admit that to anyone else. But he could pick up on cues as well as she could. That’s why he ducked his head, and mumbled a sheepish apology.

 

“Good,” Dad smiled, pleased with his submission. 

 

“It will only be a few more minutes,” Rose soothed, which actually seemed more like spilling salt over an already festering wound but hey that was just in her nature. 

 

“Come. Stop being so dramatic and sit with us.” 

 

Rafe scoffed, ready to say something sharp, but Dad gestured for him to come sit, pulling out the empty chair. 

 

“You too Sarah,” Rose said, beckoning her forward with a finger, “Come sit with us.” 

 

Rafe smiled thinly, and Sarah was pretty sure he was only doing that to hold back his nausea as he sat in between Rose and Dad.  Sarah shoved herself uncomfortably across from Rafe, and clasped her hands together.

 

“There we go. One big happy family.” 

 

Oh yeah. They were the Brady Bunch in color.  

 

“Coffee or tea?” Rose asked and Sarah shook her head, “I should really get going. I need to bake.”

 

“Hey Rafe. Why don’t you help your sister?”

“I’ll get the flour,” he muttered.

 

 

                                    ~ 2 ~ 

 

“Wheez?” 

 

“Leave me alone.” 

 

“Come on, Wheezie, open the door.” Sarah pleaded. Silence followed on the other side. 

 

“I have Christmas cookies with your name on them.” Sarah tried, fingers crossed that her little sister would open up the door from some melted chocolate and peanut butter deliciousness. 

 

“Peanut butter blossoms?”

 

“Duh,” Sarah laughed, “What else?” 

 

A few more minutes of silence and then Sarah heard the door unlock. 

 

“Hey Wheez, I know you’re probably upset, so I thought I might come and keep you company.”

 

 Wheezie was already sitting on her bed, a stuffed animal elephant pressed to her chest. 

 

The tears on her cheeks were breaking Sarah’s heart, but what she said her next caused Sarah’s heart to absolutely shatter. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Her little sister thought she had to apologize. 

 

“Wheez, you have nothing to be sorry for.” She shook her head, sat down on her little sisters bed and handed her the plastic bin of cookies. 

 

“I made him mad. I shouldn’t have turned up the volume,” she swallowed hard. “I shouldn’t have talked back to him.”

 

“It’s okay,” Sarah soothed, “It’s not your fault.”

 

If there was one thing Sarah knew for sure, it was that nothing was ever Wheezie’s fault.

 

“Then why does he yell at me so much? It feels like every time I make a mistake, he hates me. Meanwhile you’re miss perfect.” 

 

“I’m not perfect Wheezie,” Sarah whispered, alarmed that her sister felt that way, “Half of this is my fault. If I wasn’t arguing with Rafe then maybe you wouldn’t have turned up the volume and then Dad wouldn’t have yelled at you.”

 

“He feels the same way I do,” Wheezie whispered. “About you being perfect… and us being… not perfect.” 

 

“Who, Rafe?”

 

Wheezie nodded, hugging her elephant tighter, “He said Dad loves you more than us.”

 

A lump of emotions twisted in her throat, choking her voice. 

 

“Wheeize, that’s not true. I’m sorry if Dad makes you feel that way. Or if Rafe feels that way. I don’t know why Dad likes me so much? I honestly make plenty of mistakes…” 

 

Wheezie rolled her eyes, “You really don’t know? Come on, Sarah.” 

 

Her mind tripped over the words. Know what? 

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“Well Rafe says it’s because you cry. Dad takes pity on you. But then I said it’s because you are more pretty than me but still a girl. So you’re like Daddy’s little girl. But then Rafe got real quiet for a moment and then he said I was right. It’s because of how pretty you are.” 

 

Sarah looked at Wheezie in stunned disbelief. But she also felt horrified. Maybe a little flattered? Also insulted. 

 

“He said it’s cause you look like mom.”

 

Sarah wasn’t prepared for this. She wasn’t able to even process Wheeize sneaking a cookie in her mouth or when Wheeize put a bracelet hand over hers. 

 

“So of course Dad likes you better.” 

 

“I get it,” was what came out of Sarah’s mouth even though she really didn’t understand it at all. 

 

“I don’t think you do,” Wheezie said, taking a bite out of her cookie. “I mean, you can’t possibly know how it feels to not be Dad’s favorite. It sucks.” 

 

“It’s…” Sarah took a deep breath, sucked in that ‘complicated’ and started to play with Wheezie’s hair. “I’m sorry he yelled at you.”

 

Wheezie pursed her lips, almost upset that the conversation was rolling back towards Dad yelling at her, as if that wasn’t the major issue here. As if Wheeize thought she was actually touching on something more important by bringing out how Dad treats her. 

 

“It’s okay,” Wheezie shrugged, defeated. “I’ll get over it. The cookies help.”

 

Sarah hummed in agreement, taking one for herself. 

 

“Promise you feel better?”

 

Sarah held out her pinky finger and locked it with Wheezie’s, waiting for her little sister’s answer.

 

“Promise,” she said, reluctantly. 

 

                                  ~ 3 ~ 

 

Wheezie was sitting in front of the Christmas Tree with her legs folded beneath her when Sarah walked inside carrying a bunch of shopping bags. 

 

“Hey Sneezie! You’re never going to guess what I just bought.”

 

“Shhh,” Wheezie scolded with a finger over her lips. She glanced nervously in the direction of the kitchen. 

 

 “Rose is on the phone.”

 

Sarah’s gaze followed her sister’s to where Rose was pacing in heels with her cellphone pressed to her ear. 

 

“Who’s she talking to?”

 

“Dad.”

 

Sarah chewed her lip, curious and tempted to push for further details but Wheezie was already off the floor and standing by her side. 

 

“Need help?” Wheezie asked, and Sarah was so grateful for her kid sister sometimes.

 

“Please,” she smiled, handing off two heavy bags so a few of the lighter ones could slip from her shoulder to her wrist. 

 

“Let’s take them to the kitchen,” Sarah said, moving at a fast rate. When she got close enough to the door she could hear Rose speaking. 

 

“It’s not a suggestion, Ward. I’m telling you to book a flight right now,” Rose said into the cellphone. Sarah dumped her bags on the white countertop, eyeing Rose’s sparkling red dress. 

 

“I don’t care if they’re all booked. Make something happen. Can’t you get Gavin to fly the private jet?” 

 

“Sarah?” Wheezie was nudging her, but Sarah needed to fully focus on the one-sided conversation she was hearing. 

 

“Damn it. Then what am I supposed to do? I’m not missing this party, I can tell you that right now.” 

 

Rose turned around just then, and there was a second where they both just stared at each other in surprise and shock before Rose turned away again. 

 

“I need to call you back. Just come home asap.”

 

Sarah smacks Wheezie’s hand away from the her bags on the counter. They were full of Christmas presents for everyone including her. 

 

“Love you too. Bye,” Rose said, then she threw her phone down on on the counter and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

 

“What was all that about?” Sarah asked casually, standing on her tippy toes and peeking into her bags. 

 

“Nothing. Just your father is out of town for another three days and Rafe’s upstairs with a fever and he keeps asking for him that’s all.”

 

“Rafe’s sick?” Sarah stilled her movement. “Is he okay?” 

 

“He’s fine,” Rose snapped, vexed. “I swear he’s just faking it to spite me.” 

 

“No, he wouldn’t be able to stay in his room if he was faking it,” Sarah joked with a hint of human concern. 

 

If there was one thing she knew about her older brother it was how much he liked being outside. He liked doing things. Golfing, fishing, swimming, biking — basically anything except sit inside all day. Whereas her little sister, Wheeize, was the opposite. She enjoyed a good cozy blanket, a nice book or cellphone, and definitely some good old fashioned movies. That was the reason Wheezie had a TV in her room and Rafe didn’t. 

 

“Yeah,” Wheezie said, adding yo the conversation. “Plus he wouldn’t be able to fake cry.”

 

“He’s crying?” Sarah felt her skin prickle. It was cold and hot and her arms broke out into goosebumps at the mere thought. 

 

Rafe hadn’t cried since Mom —

 

She discarded her bags and went directly for the medicine cabinet, grabbing a bottle of cough syrup and Advil. 

 

“Oh no, Sarah. Don’t go in there,” Rose grabbed her arm. 

 

“Why? What’s going on?” 

 

It was weird for Rose to be keeping her away from her brother. It sent Sarah’s nerves sparking, signaling to her brain that something was really wrong. 

 

When Sarah was only six years old her mother had died. It was sudden, unexpected. A long drawn-out respiratory illness that had turned into pneumonia and the pneumonia became life-threatening in a matter of days. 

 

If Rafe had something similar, maybe it’s an irrational thought, but Sarah needed to see him to make sure he was okay. Her brother might be a freaking jerk, and she might be a terrible jerk to him, but they were family.  

 

“Nothing’s going on. I just don’t want you to get sick. The last thing I need is a bunch of sick kids on Christmas.” Rose explained, exasperated, hands on her hips in a disapproving way. 

 

Sarah’s face scrunched up in disgust. Rose didn’t want to deal with sick kids. Really? Sarah was worried about Rafe dying from the same terrible illness that Mom had and Rose was worried about them ruining her perfect Christmas by being sick. 

 

“No, I’m seeing him.”

 

“It’s for the best,” Rose said, pulling her by the arm towards the kitchen stool and sitting her down, "To let him rest."

 

Sarah glared hard through her thick black mascara. She didn’t like being told what to do by a woman who wasn’t her mother. Rose sent her a cold stare in return and sat herself on the stool across. 

 

Wheezie dug through her bags of clothes and jewelry that Sarah had left out. 

 

“Wow! Is this one for me?”

 

Sarah didn’t need to look. She knew it was, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about her little sister snooping right now. This was turning into a staring war between herself and Rose. 

 

“How about this one?” Wheezie held up a golden necklace and began to try it on. 

 

“Sarah, sweetie, it isn’t polite to stare,” Rose commented. The volume in her voice was low, but the edge of her tone was abrasive. Her eyes narrowed, “Why don’t you have a cup of warm apple cider? Maybe you can take a nap afterwards.” 

 

Sarah studied her. She wasn‘t so intimidating with the glass of wine in her hand. 

 

There was once a time when Sarah would have been terrified to be alone with Rose in a room. She remembered when Dad first met her, and Sarah made Rafe promise to never leave her side when Rose was around. Back then, her brother used to wrap a protective arm around her shoulder and glare at the woman who was set to become their step-mother. He made it clear that she was not welcomed among them. Sarah was grateful for it back then. She felt protected. Like her siblings had formed a secret pact and it was them against this new woman trying to be their mother. 

 

“I’ll get you that cider, dear,” Rose slipped off her chair and opened the refrigerator with vigor. 

 

From down the hall, Sarah heard a faint plea for Dad. It was barely audible, but Sarah could hear her brother crying out for help. 

 

She swallowed thickly. Watched as Wheezie froze her search for presents and cranked her neck in the direction of the sound.

 

“Was that— ?”

 

Rose placed a glass in front of Sarah and then sat back down on the stool.

 

“Aren’t you going to see what he wants?” Sarah asked. 

 

“No. I told you. If he really is sick, then I am not risking it. Not when it’s this close to Christmas.”

 

Sarah clenched her jaw, molars lined up with molars in the back of her mouth. 

 

“So you’re just going to leave him alone?”

 

Rose’s put-on smile faded as she watched Sarah push away the drink with outright refusal. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

That did it. 

 

Sarah jumped off her stool so fast it nearly toppled to the ground. Wheezie had to reach out and steady the thing. 

 

“Sarah Elizabeth Cameron, don’t you dare go in there.”

 

Sarah did a complete 360, and whirled on Rose, walking towards her so fast she had to back up a few steps. 

 

“Don’t tell me I can’t see my own brother. And don’t you dare start acting like my mother now because you are not her and you never will be.”

 

When Sarah finished her tirade, she felt like a balloon inside of her had deflated. It felt good for a second and then the emptiness was immediately replaced by guilt. 

 

Rose placed her glass of wine at the end of the counter and looked up at Sarah with expressionless eyes. 

 

“If you want to get sick so badly, then go. I was only trying to look out for you. Jeesh.

 

Not letting Rose guilt trip, Sarah went walking to her brothers room. 

 

Her house was so large with so many walls and doors and twists and turns, it was a miracle her friends never got lost when they came over. 

 

Wheezie slipped off the stool and followed Sarah down the hall a few minutes later carrying a tin can of Christmas cookies under her arm.

 

“Gingerbread?” Sarah asked upon noticing the tin can. 

 

“Duh. It’s his favorite.” 

 

Sarah nodded and knocked on the door. She pushed it open ever so slowly. 

 

“Dad?” Rafe called, dazed and confused, trying to push himself up in bed and twist towards the door. 

 

“Just us,” Wheezie whispered, walking in and sitting on the edge of the red comforter. “We’re here to take care of you.”

 

“Right…” Rafe turned his head towards the pillows and smothered his face. 

 

A harsh, barking cough sent shivers through Sarah’s body. It sounded so much like Mom’s cough she went ridged. 

 

“Jesus, Rafe. I don’t like the sound of that at all.”

 

“Hurts to swallow,” Rafe mumbled, eyeing the cough syrup with contempt. He tried to snort back some congestion only for it to backfire and send him into another hacking fit. This time he leaned forward, over the edge of the bed, and Sarah thought he was going to be sick. 

 

“Wheezie get the trash bin!” 

 

But he didn’t lose his lunch. Just kept coughing. Eventually he was able to stop long enough to sit back in bed. But the coughing must have hurt his chest because he was wincing and holding a hand over his heart. 

 

“That hurt?”

 

Rafe shrugged. 

 

“Think you can swallow a Christmas cookie?” Wheezie asked after a moment of silence. 

 

He smiled at her briefly, “I think it might choke me. But I can try.” 

 

Wheezie grinned, ripping the tin open, “You sound like you have a frog in your throat.” 

 

He reached over and tickled her side eliciting a howl of laughter from her. 

 

“You don’t think it’s pneumonia, do you?” Sarah said, needing to voice her concerns, even if it killed both Wheezie and Rafe’s laughter at once. 

 

“No, umm, it’s not… it’s not that.” 

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Cause,” her voice came out hoarse and croaked and he was quick this time to drink some of the syrup, “I just know.” 

 

As convincing as that was (which was not convincing at all), Sarah felt his forehead, checking for a temperature. 

 

Rafe made a face and stuck out his tongue. 

 

“Get your hands off me, before I slug you one.”

 

“Shut up,” Sarah whispered, feeling her own head and then feeling his again. 

 

“I’ll bring you back some of the tea Rose made,” Wheezie said, leaping off the bed.

 

“No need, dude. I can wash them down with these.” He stuffed two gingerbread men cookies in his mouth and chewed. 

 

                                   ~ 4 ~

 

Dad had two tickets to the basketball game between Carolina and Duke. 

 

Rafe loved basketball. He loved watching it with his father. He loved going to the games and he loved the rivalry between the two teams. 

 

Sarah didn’t know anything about basketball. She didn’t enjoy the sport. She never wanted to play. She only watched it on the rarest of rare occasions with Dad, and it was only if Dad asked her too. 

 

But Dad had two tickets to the basketball game. 

 

Which is why Rafe was sitting at home, watching the game on TV, and Sarah was somewhere in the crowd with Dad having a terrible freaking time. Just like Rafe. 

 

He didn’t even know why he was watching the game at this point. It was simply torture instead of the thrill it would have been if he were in the crowd. His eyes rested on the flickering screen and he put his cheek on his knuckles, arm resting upright on the armrest, grey baseball cap twisted backwards on his head. 

 

Freaking Sarah. 

 

During his brief distracting thoughts about home much he despised his younger sister, the commercials had begun. He found those ten times more interesting because at least Sarah couldn’t ruin those.

 

That’s when a soft sniffle caught Rafe’s attention faster than the commercial about insurance, and he immediately turned his head to the source of the sound. 

 

“Wheezie?” he asked in a hushed tone unable to see anyone behind him.

 

“Rafe?”

 

The quiet voice came from the other side of his armchair. Rafe turned towards it, startled to find Wheezie standing right there like a pop-up book from hell with a red-nose and watery eyes. 

 

“Damn it, Wheez. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

 

His youngest sister’s face wrinkled until it resembled a withered crabapple.

 

“Aw shit. Are you crying?” 

 

Rafe was not accustomed to comforting people. It just didn’t happen in his family. They weren’t the hugging type. The only person that was ever shown hugs and affection when crying was Sarah.

 

When it was him, if he even dared to cry in front of Dad at all, it was a pat on the shoulder and a you’ll do better next time, son. I know you will. Which was sometimes more like a threat than words of comfort. Or, depending on what Dad’s mood was in and whatever shit Rafe did, he could sometimes be shoved backwards or a slapped across the face if dared cry the way Sarah and Wheezie did. 

 

Wheezie, on the other hand, was just touch starved it seemed. She never got any hugs when she cried but she never got a slap of disapproval either. 

 

Sarah got the positive attention. Rafe got the negative attention and Wheezie rarely got any attention at all. 

 

“Dude, why are you freaking out?”

 

He felt like he had to say something because she was starting to make loud choking noises, and her eyes were bloodshot red. Clearly, something upset her big time and he should probably get to the bottom of it. But it also wasn’t his responsibility, was it? 

 

Maybe Wheezie wanted to go the basketball game too. Rafe would definitely be able to relate if that was the case. It sucks being Dad’s second choice, huh? 

 

Yeah Rafe. I hate Sarah too. 

 

But he doubted that was how the conversation would go. Knowing Wheeize, it was about some asshole on Instagram insulting her photo or something petty thing that can destroy a little girl’s feelings. 

 

“Spill it,” he ordered. Wheezie flinched, maybe his tone was too loud. He struggled sometimes, when he didn’t know what was happening, to regulate his emotions. 

 

“Rafe… I’m scared.”

 

“Scared of what?” he scoffed in disgust, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” For crying out loud. 

 

She was being ridiculous. 

 

“I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident.” 

 

“What did you do?” Rafe asked immediately, his body tight with concern. 

 

“I - I broke something.”

 

He nodded, following along but not getting much information here. 

 

“Broke what?” he gestured for her to continue with his hand. 

 

Wheezie grabbed a pillow from the couch and buried her head letting the cushion muffle her words, “Dad’s laptop.”

 

Oh. 

 

Oh, fuck. 

 

“Like really broke it or did it just crash? Because maybe it’s the wi-fi. I’ve been having some issues —“

 

“It’s in half, Rafe. Two pieces. Split clean down the middle. I’m so dead!”

 

Yeah, you are. 

 

“No, you’re not.” 

 

“Yes I am. He’s going to kill me.”

 

“Listen. Just do what I do, okay. Pretend you don’t know anything,” Rafe suggested helpfully, “And if Dad asks what happened, you don’t know. You didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. You were outside by the pool. I’ll be your witness.”

 

“Really? You’ll be my witness for me?”

 

“Sure. Why not? What are big brothers for.”

 

Wheezie grinned, and patted him on the shoulder, the closest they’ve come to hugging in years. 

 

“Thanks, Rafe.”

 

“Hey, I think there’s some left over Christmas cookies on the kitchen counter. Want some?”

 

“Is that even a question? Of course.” 

 

 

                                ~ 5 ~