I waved him off. “Let Brent tap in. I’ll go see him Christmas Eve. I’ll take him to Denny’s or something for breakfast. He’ll be thrilled. We can leave after that and make it to Nebraska for dinner.”
“You wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with me?”
“I was gonna spend it with you anyway.”
The corner of his lip twitched.
He peered at me for a long moment. “Okay.” He nodded. “All right. I’ll go, I’ll try it.”
There was something instantly softer about his face. Like deep inside he wanted permission to let this go, but he couldn’t give it to himself.
Adrian didn’t change gears very quickly, I realized. That was part of what made him great. His devotion to the people he cared about was unwavering. It made him steady and reliable. But it also made him inflexible and prone to hang on to things that weren’t good for him for much longer than he should.
“You know, maybe you should talk to someone,” I said. “A good therapist could help you work through some of this stuff.”
He shook his head. “Mom went to therapy for years, and it never seemed to make anything better.”
“How do you know it never made anything better? Maybe without it she would have been a million times worse.”
He didn’t answer.
“Anyway, this’ll be fun,” I said. “We should pick out an audiobook to listen to on the ride. Stop at the gas station and get, like, a million snacks.”
He smiled at me.
I was actually excited to go to Nebraska. I was over here hoping his mom’s house only had one guest bed and we’d have to share.
Then the corners of my lips fell the slightest bit.
He wouldn’t always be single. And when he wasn’t, I wouldn’t be going with him anywhere. Probably ever. He’d have a girlfriend for that.
What if he started dating again?
This thought killed me. What if he went full man-whore in a delayed Rachel-induced breakup death spiral? Would I be there in my dinky apartment listening to him bang other women through the wall?
The thought broke my heart a little. It was so dumb, but I felt betrayed even thinking about it. It felt like cheating.
I couldn’t imagine him being someone else’s. I knew technically he wasn’t mine. But in practice he was. Not in all the ways that mattered. Not in enough ways to be enough. But he was mine.
At least for now.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking slightly worried. “Your face just got serious.”
“If I’m still alive and you’re single on my thirtieth birthday, will you marry me?”
He laughed. “What?”
“Will you enter into a marriage pact with me? One year from now, you and I tie the knot if you’re single and I’m still alive. We can be one of those Pinterest couples who wears matching flannels and goes to a pumpkin patch to take that engagement photo where we both jump at the same time.”
He looked amused. “First of all, you will be alive. Second of all, we both know you don’t jump.”
I twisted my lips. “Right. Good point. And you don’t own a flannel. How about the one where it’s just our legs and a chalkboard that says, ‘she said yes’? Only we could change it to ‘he took pity on me’?”
He laughed. “And you’re sure that I’m the man for this job?”
“Totally. I’m not explaining my crazy family to someone new. It’s way too much work.”
He laughed again. “Don’t you want to marry for love?”
Yes. That’s why I asked you.
I took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Hey, sorry about your office yesterday.”
He gazed at me with those gorgeous green eyes, and I remembered how he’d gathered my hands in his and my heart had done a somersault.
Adrian never touched me. I mean, of course he didn’t, we were just friends. But it had calmed me down like a gentle whisper for my screaming soul.
I understood why Grace preferred him. His arms were everything safe and whole. And I hated that the only time I got to be in them was when I was breaking my own rules and mourning my own fate.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
I paused a moment and looked out the window at the snowy lawn.
“You know how when you ask someone what they’d do if the sun was headed for Earth and they had twenty-four hours left to live? And everyone always says they’d be with family, eat their favorite food, go someplace they’ve always wanted to go? Nobody ever says they’d spend the last day curled up in bed crying—because they wouldn’t. That’s not what anyone wants to do with their final hours.” I looked back at him. “I mean, yeah, you’d cry. And you’d be scared because you’re gonna die. And you’d find yourself looking at the sky throughout the day, knowing what’s coming because that’s just human nature. But for the most part, you’d just enjoy the time you had left. Especially because there’s nothing you could do about it. There’s no escape, nowhere to hide. So why bother? Obsessing over the end is pointless.” I held his gaze. “If you spend your life dwelling on the worst possible thing, when it finally happens, you’ve lived it twice. I don’t want to live the worst things twice. I try really hard not to think about the bad stuff. But every once in a while I’m human and I look up.” I studied him quietly. “Yesterday was just one of those days that I looked at the sun.”
He peered at me, something gentle on his face. “You are a remarkable woman, Vanessa Price, you know that?” he said quietly.
I smiled a little. “We should probably go inside,” I said. “Dad’s waiting.” I grabbed my purse. “Remember, it’s easier if you breathe through your mouth.”
Adrian gave me a reassuring smile and got out of the car.
We stood on the front porch while I knocked and the door opened a few seconds later.
Dad beamed at us with a smiling Sonja right behind him. “Welcome to my humble abode,” Dad said with a flourish. “Please, enter.”
He moved from the mouth of the doorway, and my jaw fell open.
The first thing that hit me was the light. Dad’s house was always dim. It reminded me of the Upside Down in Stranger Things, all eerie and gray. But the entry was lit. Warm. And when I stepped inside, I saw why.
The house was spotless. The cleanest I’d ever seen it. I peered around the living room from the entry in total shock. “Dad…” I breathed.
The piles were gone. All the trash and clutter were gone. I could see carpet—and it was clean. New, actually. I think he’d even painted. The flat-screen TV that had been propped against a wall had been mounted. Someone had framed and hung a painting that Melanie had done in grade school that used to be stuck to the wall with a thumbtack. There was a new-looking playpen next to the sofa with a crocheted baby blanket carefully folded and draped over the side. And the smell—there wasn’t one. Not a bad one anyway. The house smelled like simmering tomato sauce.
I grabbed Adrian’s arm and clutched it like my legs might give out.
Dad stood rocking back on his heels, beaming at the house.
Sonja smiled at me. “We talked a lot about goals. And do you want to know what your dad’s number one goal is, Vanessa?”