“You’re going to stop crying over him.”
“You’re not going to miss another day of work.”
“You’re going to get out of bed.”
Mrs. Harris sniffed, drawing me out of my dark thoughts. “I suppose dinner would be nice.”
I smiled before walking past them both and inside. “Want help picking out an outfit? I bet you look terrific in blue,” I said while looking around. Where Lance’s house was warm and inviting, Decker’s home was cold and empty. No photos on the wall. No personality. The only thing I noted was football memorabilia proudly mounted to the wall.
“I do look good in blue,” Mrs. Harris said with a small grin while following after me. Lance stayed in the entryway, shaking his head while fighting a smile.
“Where is Decker?” I asked and gestured toward to a long hallway leading to a bedroom where the sheets were a heap of fabric on the floor. An expansive portrait was hanging on the wall of a large man with a scar under his eye. The painting was slashed to shreds, and on the floor, Decker was picking up broken glass. The moment he heard us enter, he spun around to face me, embarrassment flooding his cheeks.
“Blakely? What are you doing he—”
“She’s helping me find a pretty dress. I’m going to look hot. Can we do a photoshoot? I’ll send pictures to Tony.”
Decker’s eyes widened in shock, but I didn’t miss a beat. “Nah, that would make you look desperate. Go have a good time, make him wonder.”
“You’re right. I should post a pic on the gram!” she exclaimed. Her lingo felt forced, and I wondered if she spent most of her life pretending to be younger to appeal to her husband’s disgusting preferences. It was something Mama often did.
“What are you getting dressed for?” Decker asked with a sigh. I took a good look at him, and my heart nearly broke on the spot. He seemed unsure and sad. He stared at his mother like she was a porcelain doll with a chip in her painted on face.
“Dinner with the Trasks. I was invited, isn’t that nice? I have a life. I have friends. I have things to do. I won’t be sitting here and waiting for Tony. He can sit and wonder what I’m up to!”
Decker turned to face me with an expression that seemed to ask, is this your doing?
“Yep! I also made an apple pie. It’s delicious.”
It took us a minute to pick out her clothes, and I quickly realized that she had a critique for her body with every dress I picked.
That one makes my stomach look fat.
I don’t like how my arms look in this one.
This color makes my hair look dull.
This fabric clings to my flabby skin.
This is way too short. My varicose veins are atrocious.
Every slurred complaint made me wonder just how much she’d actually had to drink. I doubted she would make it across the lawn and through dinner. She’d probably fall asleep before we even left the house. We finally settled on a knee-length bodycon dress that was really inappropriate for a casual dinner, but she didn’t care. She simply pushed Decker and me out of her bedroom so she could get dressed.
In the hallway, I found a note from Lance saying that he’d left for dinner and would see us there. “Guess he got tired of waiting. Your mom is pretty picky about clothes,” I mused. When Decker didn’t answer, I spun around to face him, his distraught face catching me off guard.
“He’s going to be gone all weekend. Mom saw a receipt for a lingerie store,” he whispered. I took a step closer to him. “I didn’t realize how bad it’s gotten.” He ran a hand through his hair before turning to look back at her bedroom door. “Maybe I need to move back to Chicago? Maybe she needs to try rehab again?”
I took another step as he talked himself through everything. Each step closer, his voice broke more and more until he was nothing but choked whispers full of emotion. I cupped his cheeks with my hands, forcing him to look me in the eye. “I’m going to tell you something that I wish someone would have told me,” I began before leaning up to brush a tender kiss against his lips. He melted against me, but I pulled away before it could turn into something we couldn’t stop. “You are not responsible for her. Her self-destruction is not your fault. Love her where she’s at, but don’t think for a second that her behavior has anything to do with you. Put your air mask on first, Decker.”
My mind immediately went to my father, and I wondered how he was doing. The worry was still there, but I wanted to take my father’s advice to heart. Decker was like oxygen to me. Our plane was crashing, but I just wanted to breathe him in.
Decker’s eyes skated over my skin, and he wrapped his arms around me for a hug. I tucked my head under his chin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he processed my words. “She sure is taking a while to get dressed,” he finally said after what felt like a tender eternity.
“She probably passed out. I was stalling,” I admitted. “You going to stay here with her or go to dinner?” I asked.
“Dinner,” he bluntly replied.
I smiled against his chest. “Take a deep breath, Decker. You’re doing great.”
“After dinner, meet me in the treehouse,” he said before pulling away. It felt like the promise of more, but before I could ask him why or how or what the fuck we were doing, he was walking to the door and glancing back at me over his shoulder. “You coming with me?” he asked.
“Always,” I whispered.
24
Blakely
The guest room I was staying in was across the hall from my brother. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and there was a foreboding sense of understanding boiling in my gut. Once Decker and I started this, we wouldn’t be able to stop. It was dangerous for us to be alone together. I almost wished that Lance would hear me tiptoe across the wood floors and down the stairs. I wanted Katy Trask to stop me when my hand touched the back door to their home.
But I met no obstacles. It seemed that fate wanted Decker and me to bring this building tension between us to a head.
Chicago was one of those towns where the sun was blistering hot in the summer, but the wind blew with a whispered warning that autumn was coming. It was weird to think about how much time had already passed.
The moon was out now, leaving nothing but a breeze that licked my skin. My bare feet crunched in the dewy grass as I made my way over to the tall tree house hoisted high in an aged redwood in the back of Lance’s backyard. Leaning against the bark with his arms crossed over his chest, Decker stared at me. The moonlight cast shadows along his scruffy face. He wore all black, looking intimidating as I approached him. I took my time and stared at his broad shoulders with fresh eyes. So much rested on them.
“How long have you been waiting?” I asked while running a hand through my wild hair. I was wearing my pajamas, though I debated on dressing up. Being around Decker made me feel giddy and flirtatious. I liked the way his eyes lingered on my body. I loved the way his words embraced my soul. Still, I stayed in the thin tank top and shorts. We’d never even been on a date. Would he be the type to enjoy getting dressed up for a nice dinner? Would he plan a casual night? I feared I’d never know.
“Since dinner,” he replied without shame. I could feel the earth rotate beneath my feet and hear the secrets of the world whispered in static motion against my neck.