Why did I think this was a good idea?
The Gradys seem so sweet. Caring. Invested. Standing together with their warm eyes and smiles that match their son’s, all that’s missing is an apple pie.
But before the truth comes spewing out in a guilty confession, Wade is there, taking my hand with his.
“Mom, Dad, this is Harlow Richards. Harlow, these are my parents, Grace and Bill.”
“Well, aren’t you lovely!” his mom says as I tell them what a pleasure it is to meet them.
Several introductions follow. I offer to shake hands, get looks like I’m adorable, and then get pulled into one hug after another. Wade’s brother Walt is a slightly younger, shorter version of him with a smile that’s somehow even more mischievous. To hear Wade tell it, Walt is the Enderson equivalent of Nettie—the guy who can’t help becoming everyone’s best friend. His fiancée, Janie, is a tiny thing, all smiles and just as energetic as her soon-to-be mother-in-law. She wants to know if I can teach her to make Indian food, and as much as I wish I knew how, I have to let her down because I can’t even cook it myself.
We’re all heading into the house when a late model Impala pulls up the drive, passing the truck to park in a spot at the side of the garage.
Wade shifts behind me, his big hands moving to my shoulders. This has to be her, because not only can I feel the tension coming off him, but the chatter around us has gone quiet.
There’s a flicker of something in Grace’s eyes as they dart from the car to her son. But then Bill’s stepping between us, a warm smile on his face as he waves toward the blonde climbing out with a paper bag of groceries in each arm.
“There she is. Wade, grab those groceries for Kelsey. She’s been running herself ragged helping to get everything ready for this week.”
“Yeah, of course.” Wade presses a quick kiss to the top of my head and then jogs to the car. “Good to see you, Kels. Let me get those.”
Kelsey takes a big breath, holding it in for a moment as she smiles up at him. “How are you, Wade?”
It’s just a question, but there’s something about her tone, the quiet delivery—like it’s not for anyone but them—that catches my attention.
“I’m good, thanks,” he says, leaving an extra few inches of space between them as he takes the bag from her arms. Then when he sees that I’ve followed him over, he smiles and introduces us.
I slip a finger through one of his belt loops, giving it a tug like I saw Janie do with Walt. “Why don’t you give me that bag and you can grab whatever’s left in the trunk.”
Wade
Harlow takes the bag from my arms and starts walking toward the house with my mother. I could have kissed her for real right then.
I watch, kind of awed as she coos over the flowerbeds like she didn’t just swoop in and stake her claim like a champ.
After a beat, I swallow and turn to face Kelsey.
She’s a sweet girl, a friend as close as family since we were fifteen, a permanent fixture in my home from two years after that. I care about her. I do. But the longing in her eyes when she pulled up is the reason behind the dread gnawing at my gut every time I think about coming home.
She’s not over it.
She’s still waiting.
And Christ, I don’t want to have this conversation again. I don’t want to have to see her tears or hold her hand. And selfish asshole that I am, I don’t want the guilt that goes along with her brave, stricken eyes chewing at me from the inside out every time our paths cross for the duration of our stay.
“I was surprised when your mom said you were bringing someone to the wedding.” She gives me a smile packed with so much baggage I feel kind of sick. “She’s not in any of your social. This is pretty new?”
I give her the smile I save for interviews after a loss. The one I don’t fucking mean but gotta sell anyway. “Yes and no. She’s pretty private, so we haven’t been posting.”
I grab the last couple of bags and Kelsey closes the car up.
We’re halfway to the house when she stops. “You never bring dates home.”
The front door is close, but only a dick would keep walking.
“I guess I don’t.” For a long time, it was because I was trying to be sensitive to Kelsey. Not make things any harder than they had to be. But after all the years, all the conversations laying it out in no uncertain terms—I don’t feel that way about her—it was time for something else.
“Harlow’s different.” And because I really want this to be the last of the conversation, I add, “She’s special.”
Kelsey blinks, her next breath drawing her chin higher, spine straighter. Strong, even when it hurts.
Fuck.
“I’m happy for you.”
She’s not. But maybe someday she will be.
Inside, Dad and I help put the groceries away while my mom waves Harlow and Janie over to the kitchen table, telling them to ignore the mess of tule-trimmed notepads and sparkly binders littering the surface. Walt is on the phone with a couple of the guys he’s got flying in for the bachelor party tomorrow night, and Kelsey’s making tea.
“We’re so glad you could join us this week, Harlow,” Mom says, taking the eggs from my dad to load into the fridge. “I’ll try not to smother you, but it’s so rare Wade brings anyone home. I’m excited to get to know you.”
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you too.”
For about the last three hours.
I close the pantry door and move into the space behind Harlow. “Yeah, but Mom, try not to run her off with seven million questions and some endless tour of photo albums, please.”
Harlow’s brows pop. “Don’t listen to him. I’m dying to see the albums.” Then, pointing to the spread of wedding madness in front of her, she quickly adds, “But only if there’s time. And please, put me to work for anything you need. I’d love to help.”
My mom is delighted, but Kelsey lets out a soft laugh, easing into the empty seat beside Janie. Reaching across the table, she pulls the piles closer to her.
“Oh my goodness, no, Harlow. You’re so sweet to offer, but if the Gradys need anything at all, they know they can count on me.”
Jesus.
Walt and Janie exchange a meaningful glance. But I’m not worried.
Harlow’s not going to have her feelings hurt. She isn’t going to run off.
And after what I saw in the yard when we arrived, I’m pretty sure she’s going to take Kelsey’s territorial stake as a personal challenge. And rise to it.
Harlow gives me an adoring smile over her shoulder. “Well, the offer stands. But I suppose there are worse things than having Wade show me around his old stomping grounds.” One slender brow arches up and, cool as can be, she adds in a teasing lilt, “Maybe even a stop out at Gilman’s Ridge?”
I choke as Mom and Dad let out matching barks of surprise and the blood drains from Kelsey’s face.
“Dude,” my brother laughs. “Of all the places, you told her about the Ridge? Classy.”
The hell I told her about the Ridge. I haven’t even thought about Enderson’s infamous make-out point since I graduated from high school and started banging in dorm rooms and then my own place. But I’m guessing my favorite study-bug did a little extra-credit work on her own.