“Nothing. I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” She gently pulls my hand off her and doesn’t hold my hand like we’ve always done. At least lately.
That punch to the gut from Adrianna burns deep. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah.” Her gaze skates all over the hallway, ignoring me. She never avoids me. “Just tired and probably had too much to drink. Do you mind if we head out? Go back to my parents’? I think I need some sleep.”
Liar. She doesn’t get sleepy drunk on wine. She gets energetic and giggly and loud and rambunctious, especially with Becca, but she’s never looked like this. Like someone’s ripped out her heart and stomped all over it, which is odd, considering that’s how I feel right now.
Still, I’ve promised to give her whatever she needs. “Sure, honey. Let’s get you to bed.”
I’ll give her the night to rest. To sober up. Tomorrow, when we’re back in Charlotte, I’ll make sure we take the time to figure things out. Either move forward, or figure out how to get us back to where we used to without ruining what we already have.
22
Jillian
I’m awake well before the sun rises. The sky is still dark, the city quiet outside my windows. The only thing I hear is Klaus’s gentle breaths as he sleeps next to me, far on the other side of the bed.
We’re only friends.
It pounds my brain, giving me a hangover-sized headache even though I didn’t drink too much last night. No, hearing him say the words I feared he would, hurt more than anything.
It took me hours to fall asleep and then I slept horribly, tossing and turning all night. Now that I’m awake before the sun, there’s no way I’ll go back to sleep, so I climb out of the bed, careful not to wake Klaus and get dressed in running clothes.
I have no intention of running this morning, but I need to clear my head. Thankfully the kitchen is dark and quiet so I can enjoy a quick cup of coffee in peace. This weekend trip was supposed to be a silly weekend where Klaus and I have fun, pretend I’m not bothered by Roman’s wedding, and survive being under the same roof with my parents.
Instead, it’s turned into more drama than I ever saw coming, and Roman and Julianna are the least of it.
Between all the things I’m learning about my own parents, and Nana….
“Oh shit.” Norman. I promised Teresa I’d go see him before I left town, and yesterday I didn’t get to talk to him. I barely saw him, in fact.
It might still be before six in the morning, but I don’t doubt he’s awake. Sickly and tired or not, the man has always been an early riser, often already on the phone with my dad, on speakerphone and talking about work before my dad has his first cup of coffee. For Norman, six o’clock is probably sleeping in.
Decision made, I pour my coffee mug into a travel cup and lace up my sneakers. They only live a mile away, close enough I can walk. I sneak out the front door, careful of closing it too loudly behind me, and head down the walkway to the street.
Less than twenty minutes later, I’m knocking quietly on their front door, shuffling back and forth on my feet.
Hearing about Norman and seeing Teresa and how frail he looked yesterday is more added pain to a weekend that’s been full of it. I knock again, louder this time, in case I’m wrong and they’re still sleeping but if I don’t see Norman now, I don’t know when I’ll be able to.
Fortunately, their front door opens and the man I came to see is in the doorway. Dressed in flannel plaid pants and a gray T-shirt, as I take him in, tears beckon and fill my eyes.
“Norman.” My breath hitches.
He’s frail. Skinnier than I believed he was yesterday and his thick head of hair is now thin and gray. His skin has that sickly hue to it and my knees threaten to collapse.
“Jillian. Don’t cry.” He steps back and lets me in, but it’s too late for me to obey his quiet order because I already am.
And then I’m wrapped in his frail, cool arms despite the early heat and humidity outside.
“Come in. Come in. Teresa hoped you’d stopped by before you left.”
“I told her I would.”
“And a promise made is a promise kept.” He chuckles and pulls back. I don’t know if a month went by growing up he didn’t say the same thing. Always. Be a man of your word. A man of honor. Keep your promises and let your yes mean yes and your no mean no.
“That’s right,” I say, grinning up at him through my tears. I swipe them away.
“Do you need more coffee? I was just getting settled on the patio out back with my paper if you’d care to join me.”
“I’d love to.”
I follow Norman through their house, into the kitchen. The walls of the home hold so many memories for me. I grew up in this house as much as I did my own and the familiar scents of Teresa’s floral perfume as well as a lilac potpourri she always refreshed on their kitchen counter assault me almost as much as the strong scent of the brewed coffee. After refilling my travel mug, I follow Norman to the back patio.
“Took me a minute to realize there was a knock at the door and longer to get to it.” He eases himself slowly into the chair, as if bending ligaments and muscles requires great effort. “I’m not the spry man I used to be, I’m afraid.”
“I know, Teresa told me. I’m so sorry to hear you’re sick.”
He brings his coffee mug to his mouth and blows gently. “The only two things we can be certain of in this life are death and taxes. I’ve definitely paid my fair share of the latter and the former, well… I’ve lived a good life. I’m not afraid.”
“Can you fight it?”
“Until my dying breath, I’ll try.”
I want to pummel him with questions. I know nothing about pancreatic cancer except that he has cancer and it’s scary and according to Teresa, terminal, but I already know they’ll do everything they can.
“Tell me about you. Teresa mentioned this man… Klaus? I believe?”
“He’s a good man.”
“Plays hockey.”
“For Charlotte Ice Kings, yes. He’s quite good.”
“I’ve seen him.” Unlike my own dad, who thinks athletes are barbarians and far beneath him, Norman has a healthy obsession with all things sports-related, including football and hockey. There’s almost always a game on in his house on the weekends and late nights. “And he treats you well? Better than my own son did, I hope?”
“He does.” As well as any best friend can treat a girl. “But as for Roman, I think we realized much too late we wanted different things. I’m not angry with him, you know. Not anymore anyway.”
“Well, I can only hope he’s made the right choice then.”
“Too late for second-guessing, isn’t it?”
“Considering they’ve boarded the plane for their honeymoon, I’d say so.”
“And I’d pray it’d crash if it meant Roman wouldn’t go down with it.” Teresa’s voice comes from behind, startling me with her volume and her words.
“Teresa,” I scold her, but she’s grinning.