“Confusing,” Alyssa said, finishing my sentence. “I understand. And I don’t want to make this week any more difficult for you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I couldn’t win him over if I tried. I just … wanted to see him.”
“Hollis?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. The words just came tumbling out of my mouth, and my cheeks instantly caught fire.
“Of course, Hollis. Who else?”
I glanced at Taylor to see if he was watching. He turned away, caught again. I wanted to pack my things and get on the first plane back to Colorado. Embarrassment normally made me ragey, but I couldn’t even muster enough dignity to get angry.
“Oh. No,” Alyssa said. “No, no, no. You misunderstand. Completely. Totally.”
I crossed my arms, feeling absolutely insane. I was actually indignant that she wasn’t interested in Taylor.
She noticed my irritation and sighed. “Let me rephrase. Taylor was never an option. It was always you. I knew it then. I know it now.”
It was a strange feeling to have someone so threatening offer me so much comfort.
Alyssa paused and then crept up the hallway. She walked quietly up to the front door and then pressed her ear against the wood. She listened for a moment and then rolled her eyes, yanking open the door. Olive jerked to a stop, waiting for permission to come in. Alyssa opened the door the rest of the way and then closed and locked the door behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Olive said. “I’m not used to it being locked.”
Alyssa gestured for her to go ahead and then returned to her spot in the living room. I watched Olive hug Taylor, Tyler, and Ellie, and then she walked toward me. Years ago, I stopped wondering when my heart would stop pounding in my chest when she was around. She threw her arms around me, and I hugged her, flattening her hair against the back of her head. I knew exactly how Alyssa felt, and I had no excuse to make her feel anything but welcome. Hollis was her son, too. Just because she’d walked away didn’t mean she didn’t love him.
“Coffee?” I asked Olive, bringing the sugar and creamer to the table.
She shook her head and followed me. “I just had my second cup before coming over.”
“How’s your mom?” I asked, sitting next to Taylor. “Is she ready for you to move into the dorms?”
Olive shook her head and smiled, snickering. “Not at all. She’s such a baby.”
I playfully poked her. “Cut her some slack. It’s a big deal.” My phone buzzed. I checked it and put it away.
“I told her about Thomas. She’s going to bring Jim a casserole later,” Olive said.
“That’s sweet,” I said. I used my finger to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. She was a young woman now, creeping closer every day to the age I was when I brought her into the world. She was working at a local grocery store as a cashier like she had every summer since she was fifteen, but this would be her last before college.
Taylor took a sip. “Thank you, baby.” He tensed when he realized what he’d said, but I covered his hand with mine. The rules seemed trivial now, the terms of endearment, the living apart until I’d felt Taylor had done his time and felt sufficiently kicked while he was down. He could have lost his job and gone to jail, and I wanted to punish him more. My heart sank. I was wrong. I’d been wrong.
“Taylor,” I began, but my phone buzzed. I checked it and again put it away.
“Is that the kids?” Taylor asked.
“No,” I said simply.
His gaze fell to my back pocket. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Is it weird that I’m mad at him?” Tyler blurted out, looking at his twin.
“Mad at who?” Taylor asked.
“Thomas. I’m fucking pissed. I keep thinking that if he were here, I would punch him in his lying fucking face.”
Taylor shook his head.
“I feel like that’s weird,” Tyler said. “Like I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.” His bottom lip trembled. “And then I remember he’s not here, and he’s not going to be here. But I’d still punch him, and then I’d hug him until he wouldn’t let me hug him anymore.”
Ellie rubbed Tyler’s back. “That’s not weird. This is all very confusing. Feelings aren’t wrong. Whatever you’re feeling is exactly what you should feel.”
I smiled at my sister-in-law. She’d gone from drunken pill popper to a meditating, full-lotus-posing soccer mom. She’d worked so hard to get sober and had spent a fortune in rehabilitation before Gavin came along. She was not only sober, but she was beginning to sound like her therapist, and I loved it.
“Falyn?” Olive said.
Without fail, when she said my name, my heart would sing. Because of Taylor, I was able to be involved in her life more than I ever thought possible. She was our flower girl at our wedding, she babysat Hollis and Hadley when we visited, and now, she was sitting next to me, my mirror image, looking at me for advice. I rested my chin on the heel of my hand and looked at her with a smile. “Yes, love?”
“When do you think the funeral will be? I should ask for the day off. I want to be there.”
“I’ll ask Papa when he wakes up. We’re going to have to decide a lot of things today, so he should get some rest.”
She picked at her nails, nodding absently. “Yes, ma’am.”
I looked to Taylor, wishing I could thank him for that moment, and every moment with Olive before that one. I’d been wrong, and it was time to admit it to both of us. My phone buzzed again. I didn’t check it this time.
Taylor looked down to the source of the noise. His shoulders sagged. “Is that who I think it is?”
I hesitated. “I … don’t know who it is.”
“Falyn,” Taylor said, sounding tired. “Is it him?”
“Who?” Tyler asked.
“Peter Lacy,” Taylor said.
“The mayor’s son?” Ellie asked, surprised.
“She didn’t give him her number, and she doesn’t respond,” Taylor said.
“I did this morning,” I said. Taylor looked devastated. “I told him if he didn’t stop, I was going to file a complaint with the police department.”
“And he’s still trying to contact you?” Ellie asked.
“Yes,” I said, annoyed.
“You did?” Taylor asked. “You told him that?”
I turned to him. “I told you. I want nothing to do with him.”
Taylor managed a small half smile. He didn’t lose his temper. He didn’t punch at the air or scream or slam doors. Maybe it was because he was emotionally exhausted, but I’d asked him to do better, and he had. “I wish I could do better by you. That’s what you deserve.”
The shocked expressions across the table prompted me to reach for his hand. His vulnerability at that moment was so incredibly moving.
He looked down at my hand on his and blinked, seeming surprised.
“Will you sit on the porch with me?” I asked.
He stared at me for a moment like I’d spoken in a foreign language, and then he nodded, finally processing my request. “Yeah. I mean yes. Of course.”