Logan swallowed and smiled appreciatively, obviously noticing that I’d caught myself before saying alive. “It’s comforting to us all, I think,” he said, vague for the child’s sake.
I agreed and dug in.
By the time Logan took Jakey up to bed, we’d watched Finding Nemo, and it had become abundantly clear that, for the most part, Jakey was nonverbal. At first, I thought he’d been quiet because I was a stranger, but the more I’d watched how seamlessly they operated without Jakey speaking, I knew this was their norm. After Jakey had sucked down his juice box, Logan had grabbed a bottle of water and held it up before the boy, asking him if he’d like water or—then he’d tapped the side of the Coke bottle—soda. The child had pointed at the Coke, and his uncle had told him he could have a little.
After we’d cleaned up from dinner, Logan had brought in a plate containing peanut butter cookies on one side and brownies on the other. Without waiting to be asked, Jakey had pointed at the brownies, and Logan had smiled and placed one on a napkin in front of him. The same process had then been repeated to pick a movie. Logan had held three options in front of Jakey, who’d pointed at the one he wanted, and his uncle had put it on.
“Sorry, I hope you didn’t mind waiting. It takes a while since we have a whole routine,” Logan said as he walked nervously back into the living room where I sat on the couch.
“Nope.” I lifted my cellphone up. “I played a game so I didn’t even notice time passing.”
Logan’s nervousness disappeared for a second as he grinned. “You and those candy games. You’re obsessed.”
“Hey, this one says it’s good for your brain function.”
Logan chuckled and dropped down on the other side of the couch. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Chapter Seven
Logan
“So, did you want to stay?” Then I rushed on, adding, “Because if you have to go, I understand. I know it’s still pretty early for a Saturday night if you still wanted to go out or something.”
Creed laid his phone down next to him and angled his body toward me on the couch. “Nope. I’m right where I want to be. Plus, I believe I got a low-key promise for you to tell me more about Jakey.”
I studied his face for signs of discomfort or annoyance. Truth be told, I had been all night. I rarely talked about Jakey being nonverbal with anyone except his therapist or my parents. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. We don’t go around very many people, and those we do are used to it so…”
“He’s okay, though, right? It’s obvious he’s a smart little boy, and it’s not like he can’t communicate. You two seem to have a pretty cool system worked out.”
I huffed. “Yeah, it took some time, but…”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want some coffee? I was thinking about having a cup. I know you wanted another brownie, and that would taste good with a cup of coffee, I think.”
Creed arched one of his perfectly sculpted brows—did he get them shaped?—and nodded. “A cup of coffee sounds perfect. Do you want help?”
Thankful for him giving me an out to collect myself, I rose from the couch and headed toward the kitchen. “Nope. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be back.” On automatic pilot, I set up the coffee maker to brew six cups of coffee while trying to decide what exactly to share with Creed. I’d known this conversation was coming all night, but instead of dwelling on it, I’d relaxed and allowed myself to enjoy his company. It had been too quiet in this house that used to buzz with activity. And Jakey's high-fiving Creed had been…monumental, to say the least. I’d written it down with the date and time in the journal that our counselor had recommended I keep to track Jackey’s ups and downs.
While the coffee brewed, I put five teaspoons of sugar and approximately two tablespoons of creamer into a cup for Creed, then assembled a new plate of brownies and cookies. The difficulty in deciding what to share had nothing to do with not trusting Creed with the information and everything to do with not wanting to burden him and send him running. As much as J.J. used to assure me that plenty of people wanted to be my friend, experience had taught me to be cautious. Haley had said that my size kept people from realizing how tender my heart was. I guessed that made me a wuss or something, but the fond way she used to say it made me think it was okay to be just like I was. Obviously, if they had left Jakey for me to raise, they really did value me for me.
Creed didn’t come looking for me, but he gave me the ten minutes I needed to steady my breathing and come to a conclusion. While it had been nice to have him coming in for lunch and texting me throughout the day, if our friendship was going to continue, then I had to be open now. If he disappeared tomorrow, it would suck, but it wouldn’t be a crushing blow. I poured the coffee in our mugs and set everything on a tray and proceeded back to the living room.
I’d expected to find Creed back on his phone, but he was up and wandering the living room, picking up all the frames to study the pictures within. “Did I ever tell you Haley had been a photographer?” I asked as I set the tray down on the wooden trunk in front of the couch.
A small smile crept onto Creed’s face as he continued to hold a black frame in his hands. It contained a picture of me and J.J. on my twenty-first birthday. He and I had gotten shit-faced, and Haley had ended up having to take care of both of us all night.
“What’s that smile for?” Creed interrupted my thoughts.
I told him the story, laughing when I got to the end. “The best part was the next morning. They’d let me drink with them before I turned twenty-one, so it wasn’t my first time getting tipsy, but J.J. had insisted I do all kinds of different shots at the bar we’d gone to. Haley kept saying we needed to slow down, but J.J., he was a big bear like me, so he kept telling her we could handle it.” I paused, choking on my laughter. “The next morning, we woke up and the smell of bacon permeated the place. J.J. stumbled into the kitchen telling Haley what a goddess she was, and she gave him the stink-eye, told him he was on his own, and that she’d made breakfast for me. He asked why for me and not him, and she told him that I shouldn’t have to suffer because he was an idiot.”
Creed chuckled, and I laughed harder remembering J.J. lamenting on and on about Haley’s lack of love, and then scoffing at my betrayal when I started shoveling the food into my mouth as fast as I could chew.
Memories of all the good times rapidly assaulted my mind, and the next thing I knew, Creed wrapped me in his strong arms, rubbing my back and murmuring words of sympathy as guttural sobs tore out of me. If he hadn’t held me so tightly in his warm embrace, I worried that I might finally fly apart. All of the anguish I’d suppressed to be there for Jakey and my parents flooded out of my eyes, my nose dripped, and my loss consumed me too desperately to pull away from this life raft that had appeared out of nowhere giving me someone to cling to.
I clutched Creed until my tears subsided, and he led me to the couch. We sat next to each other, with his arm still draped over my shoulders. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, embarrassment dueling with the remnants of my grief.