The Dysfunctional Test (3 page)

He also belonged on the cover of
Playgirl
. And knew it. Troy had sandy blond hair which lightened considerably in the summer and was always just south of needing a cut. His eyes were a deep, rich brown, and his lashes were a criminal waste on a man. Just shy of six feet tall, his body was the result of hard work and discipline. But his smile was the kicker. No woman had ever resisted that smile when the wattage cranked.

No one would believe they were a couple. Men like him didn’t date women like her. It went against the balance of nature. The world would implode.

One more thing her family would blame her for.

Emily came running into the room waving a piece of paper. “I made a picture of you, Auntie Cam.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see.” Camryn looked down at the primitive etchings of her young niece. “Not bad, honey. But why do I have a big frown on my face?”

“Because you never smile.”

This must be
make Camryn feel like crap
week. Camryn looked at Heather, who was too busy texting to notice. To prove the three-year-old wrong, Camryn plastered a big smile on her face. “Thank you. I love it. Maybe next time I can wear a smile?”

Heather laughed. Camryn thought it was at her until Heather turned the cell screen so she could see it.

Heather: What time do you get off work tomorrow?

Troy: 3. Why? Change your mind about the wedding? Wanna run away with me?

Heather: Lol. No, Cam will be at your place at 3:15 to discuss an important proposal.

Troy: Cam, huh? Must be serious.

Heather: Always is with her. Think about it before saying no.

Troy: Oh no. You’re not sending her to arrange my wardrobe, are you? I can iron my own underwear.

Heather: Lmfao. Be home by 3:15.

Troy: K.

Camryn ground her teeth and stood. She was halfway to the kitchen before Heather spoke.

“What? You didn’t say
no
.”

When Camryn turned, Heather was wearing a pink baby doll dress and pigtails. Large black freckles spotted her nose. Some of the tension drained from Camryn before the image dissolved.

“I’m saying it now. No.”

“Come on, sis. It’ll work.”

No, it wouldn’t. Troy would never go for this charade. And even if he did, this would be one more joke to him. Contrary to popular opinion, her life was not a joke.

It may be sad and pathetic, but it wasn’t a joke.

Chapter Two

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

Family trees full of nuts have nothing on me. My family is temperamental.

Half temper, half mental.

The second her sister unlocked the front door to the family home, Emily barreled inside the door, pigtails bouncing. “Grandma, Grandpa, Auntie Cam started a fire at work. And she got an erection!”

Camryn stepped inside the door and dropped her suitcase at her feet. She pinched her eyes closed seconds after her eighty-five-year-old Nana spit coffee out of her mouth faster than the recorded speed of light.

Heather rushed over to Nana’s recliner and smacked her on the back to dissolve her coughing fit. “Jeez, Emily. You’re worse than the iPhone spell-check. Auntie Cam didn’t
start
a fire, she
got
fired. And it’s not an
erec
tion, it’s
evic
tion.”

Her father’s bald head gleamed from the sun shining through the window as he shook his head in shame.

Her mother waddled into the small living room from the kitchen, rollers in her hair and a towel slung over her shoulder. “You started a fire at work? And what’s this about an erection?”

Camryn walked over to Nana and kissed her cheek. “You okay? Need a heart pill?”

Nana waved her hand. “Stop fussing. I’m old, not dead. An erection is how I conceived your mom, you know.”

“TMI, Nana,” Heather said.

“It’s an MRI, you twit!” Nana professed. “And my hip is fine. The doctor said so last week.”

“No, Nana,” Heather said, exasperated. “TMI means too much information.”

“Why did you ask about the results then?”

Welcome home
.

Camryn sighed and sat next to her father on the only thing older than the carpet—the couch. It was a shade lighter than the dark brown shag carpet. According to old family photos, it used to be white. Nothing ever changed at home.

“Camryn Covic, you answer me,” her mother demanded.

She thought of responding with the first line of “Who’s on First”, but changed her mind. Her family didn’t appreciate the ironic similarities between them and Abbott and Costello.

“I got let go from work on Monday. And my apartment building was sold. I have to move.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed to slits. Her hands fisted on her hips. Camryn waited for steam to billow out her nostrils and her foot to stomp. Any second now she’d charge like a mad bull. Too bad the drapes weren’t red. She could tear them down and divert her stampede.

Instead of charging, Mom harrumphed. “What’s that got to do with an erection?”

“Nothing, Mother. Never mind.”

“What did you do to get fired?” This from Dad.

“Budget cuts.”

“Where are you going to live?” her mom asked, anger gone from her face and worry replacing it. Worry was worse than anger.

“She’s not sharing my room,” Nana claimed. “She snores.”

“Mother, please,” Mom said. “Camryn got herself into another mess. It doesn’t matter if she snores or not.”

Another mess? “I don’t snore.”

Nana slapped her hand down on her thigh, causing her knee-highs to drop to ankle-lows. “How do you know? You’re asleep.”

Heather, ever the peacemaker and good child, said, “Camryn is staying here until we leave for Colorado. Then she’ll stay with Justin and I until she finds an apartment.” A halo popped over her sister’s head.

“In Milwaukee?” Mom asked. “You’re coming home for good?”

Camryn prayed she’d remembered to pack a Valium. “It was Chicago, Mom. Not a third-world country.”

Her father took a drink of beer. “Could’ve fooled me. Shit-cago, I say. You’re not a Bears fan now, are you? ’Cause you’re not staying here if you are.”

“Never mind that,” Nana interjected. “How is Heather supposed to have marriage sex with this one snoring in the next room?”

Mom covered Emily’s ears. “Don’t listen, sweetie pie.”

Camryn dropped her forehead in her hands. “Too late for that.”

“Wait a minute,” Mom said, an epiphany blooming. “What about your boyfriend? Won’t he miss you in Chicago? He was supposed to escort you to the wedding. Where is he?” She figured her mom was looking around the room as if Camryn had hidden him somewhere.

Camryn was glad her head was still buried in her hands, ’cause all the imagination in the world wouldn’t have masked her wince. “About that…”

“He lives in Milwaukee,” Heather said, louder than necessary.

All eyes turned to Heather, including Camryn’s. “Heather…”

“He’ll be here Thursday night for dinner. He’s still coming to the wedding. Don’t worry.”

Camryn stood, grabbed her sister by the arm, and dragged her into the kitchen. “What are you doing? I told you this wasn’t happening.”

Heather had the audacity to look upset. “Cam, if you don’t do this for you, and God knows you should, then do it for me. Look at them.” She pointed in the general direction of the living room. “That’s only three family members. Add in the
yjakas
and
tetakas
, and it’s a mess. They’re going to embarrass me royally without trying to serve you up on a wedding martyr plate.”

Great. Just great. She was playing the guilt card. Camryn pictured their
yjakas
and
tetakas
—Serbian translation, uncles and aunts—plus the
kumas
and
kumos
—godparents—and she could understand Heather’s dismay.

“Troy hasn’t even agreed to this yet.”

And darn it, she was caving.

Heather removed her arm from Camryn’s hold. “He will. You know he will.”

Yeah, he would. Camryn sighed. What was one more humiliation in a long line? “Fine, Heather. I’ll talk to Troy. But you owe me.”

“You can have our firstborn,” she joked.

“Oh no. I’ll never hear the end of the single mother shame I bestowed on the family.”

The front door squeaked open and Camryn’s eyes rolled, wondering who else could add to this day. They went around the corner to find her brother, Fisher, and his wife, Anna.

Emily ran up to them and leapt for a big hug. “Auntie Cam started a fire, and got an erection. Nana had one for Grandma too. Auntie Heather can’t have sex with Auntie Cam snoring. Oh, and shit is a bad word. We can’t say it.”

Fisher nearly dropped his daughter. “What the hell?” He looked around the room. “She was only with you for a day!”

Anna smiled but tried to hide it by pressing her mouth closed. Emily looked just like her with golden brown curls and massive blue eyes. But unlike her daughter, Anna knew when to shut her beautiful red mouth.

“Hell’s a bad word too.”

Right. Camryn picked up her purse from beside the couch. Even facing Troy with the proposal was better than this craziness.

“And I’m leaving. I’ll be back later.” Maybe.

Troy had just enough time to shower after work before Cam was due to show up for her so-called proposal. For a day and a half his mind geeked about what it could be. He couldn’t think of a solitary thing he had that Camryn could want.

If Camryn was nothing else, she was punctual. He had the next ten days off work for Heather’s wedding, so his boss didn’t mind letting him out early. They had finished the road construction on South 84th Street by lunch anyway.

Cam was not the type of woman you met covered in asphalt and sunscreen. Even if she was like a sister.

Even if she was the only woman on Earth who could make him nervous.

He stripped out of his jeans and T-shirt in the bathroom, dropped them to the floor, and stepped under the spray of cold water. It had been a damn hot one today, even for June. In seconds, his body cooled down. He’d just finished rinsing the soap off when the doorbell rang.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and ran to the front door. “Cam, you’re early.”

She stood on his doorstep wearing a pair of pressed khakis and a white blouse. She surveyed him through those huge hazel eyes of hers. “Troy, you’re naked.”

“Not completely. I do have a towel.” He stepped out of the way to let her inside. “Have a seat. I’ll go get dressed.”

After pulling on a T-shirt and shorts in his bedroom, he walked down the short hall to the kitchen. Knowing her answer, he asked anyway. “Want a beer?”

“No, thank you.”

He grabbed a bottle of Miller Lite and sat across from her on the futon. “How’s Chicago treating you?”

She took her eyes away from their family portrait to look at him. “I’m moving back home after the wedding.”

With Camryn Covic, someone had to look very hard to see emotion. She had feelings, buried way deep under all the crap she piled on top. For Troy, his tell was her eyes. She had the same look now she had twenty years ago when the social worker first brought him to her parents’ house. He’d gone to bed without dinner, by choice, and she brought him a PB&J with the crust cut off.

She didn’t ask about his bruises. Didn’t ask about his torn clothes. In fact, she didn’t say anything except…

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked her now, mimicking the question she’d asked him so long ago.

She searched his face for several long beats, and then a smile traced the corners of her mouth. A sad smile, but a smile. She remembered. “No, but thank you.”

That was his response back then too. Troy took a swig of beer to dislodge the lump. Camryn was also the only person who could make him feel sentimental.

“I haven’t seen the house since you bought it. I like what you’ve done.”

“Thanks,” he said, glancing around. He’d painted the living room walls a burnt sienna. His furniture was black. Everything else screamed bachelor pad. “Heather says it needs a woman’s touch.”

“Well, then it wouldn’t be yours.”

Man, she always did understand him. Even more than her brother, his best friend. She understood how important it was, after a childhood like his, to own something of his own. She’d framed the family portrait of them from one Christmas as a housewarming gift. She’d also bought him a jar of peanut butter.

“So, Cam, what’s this proposal? Is it at least indecent?”

Her posture turned rigid. “It’s indecent all right. It’s not really a proposal though…”

“Damn,” he said, trying to lighten her mood. Futile. “Is it bigger than a…”

“I need a date for Heather’s wedding.”

Troy snapped his mouth shut, totally not expecting her to say that. Did she want him to set her up or something? ’Cause he didn’t know a man who could handle her. “And?”