All eyes—three sets, six in total—are on me. Reviews appear to be mixed. Told-you-so lines are etched around Oakley’s eyes, but Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes just look confused.
“Have a seat, son, and tell us what just happened.” Mr. Wilkes—can I still call him Phil as he instructed in our pre-Oakley conversation—motions for me to sit.
I lower to the place at the table where my plate is piled high. What would happen if I bolted for the stairs? I swear I saw tears in Everly’s eyes before she did exactly that.
But why? This whole thing is, as the saying goes, a nothing burger.
“Yeah, Knox Herd. Tell us why you’ve been keeping secrets from my sister?”
“Oh, hush Oakley.” Claire makes a swatting motion in her daughter’s direction. “I’m sorry, Knox. Excuse my daughter, please.” She sighs. “Both of them.”
“Mom!”
“Don’tmomme. Do you really think it was your place to waltz in here and tell Knox’s secrets?”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re getting onto me when he’s the one keeping secrets. That’s the problem.” Oakley spins on me. “Why didn’t you tell Everly yourself?” She holds her chin high, uncowed.
The room falls silent. The pressure of all the eyeballs on me makes me squirm like a naughty child.
Okay, no more playing dumb, especially with myself. I get it.
I take a deep breath. “You’re one hundred percent right, Oakley. I should have had the conversation with Everly by now. I promise you, at first, it was an accidental oversight.” I let my gaze linger on the table before facing my own personal firing squad head on. “There are reasons I kept the info to myself—and I will explain those reasons, but I think Everly deserves the first explanation.” I address Mr. Wilkes, slanting my head toward the staircase. “If it would be alright, sir?”
He nods once, just barely smiling. “I suppose there’s no harm in that. Last room on the right.”
“Knock, knock.” I rap lightly on the mostly closed door at the end of the hall. The sound of sniffles tears at my soul. “Everly?” I push slowly as I say her name.
Watery blue eyes stare through the gash to the core of my heart. “Come in.” Sitting straight, shoulders back, she drags her pinky fingers beneath each eye. So far, mascara damage is minimal.
Let’s hope it stays that way.
The room is feminine but grown up. I half expected the dated bedroom of a high school girl, but this room speaks of maturity. It’s neatly, though sparsely, decorated—Claire’s doing, I suppose. Everly’s holiday stay is only temporary.
She snatches a tissue from the box resting in her lap. “I-I’m sorry for running out.”
I’m still holding onto the knob. “You’re not the one who needs to apologize.”
She shrugs. “Bad manners with a guest.”
I tuck my hands in my pockets, because all I want is to reach out and hold her—but I’m pretty sure I’ve got some penance to do first.
“I’m not just any guest though, Ev. At least I hope I’m not.” Accidentally, a question winds up tacked onto the end of the sentence.
Her eyes linger over my face. She slowly shakes her head.
Whew. More than anything, I want to be someone special to Everly Wilkes. “May I?” I gesture to the quilted white spread. When she nods, I sit, close but not quite touching. Gnawing my lip, I clasp my hands between my knees and try toorganize my thoughts. “Um, first…let me get this straight. You’re disappointed I’m not a penniless ditch digger?”
“Knox!” She scratches out a laugh.
I nudge her side. “Sorry. That was to lighten the mood. I do get that isn’t the real issue here.”
Her deep sigh flutters hair around her face. “I hate secrets so much. They give me a rash, a headache, and a queasy stomach.”
I roll my hand. “And the problem is?”
“Knox Herd!” She rams her elbow into my side, hard, and the jab itself delivers hope.
My chuckle ends on a sigh. “Secrets in a relationship suck. I get it.” I search her tearstained face. “Am I to assume you’ve had a run-in or two in that department?”
