Is that why she’s calling me? Does she need me to tell her that? Or does she just need a place to think about this out loud, and she knows I’ll always have her back?
“I think you need to take a deep breath and relax a little before you go filing adoption papers, okay? I’m not saying don’t adopt. But, if you’re going to do it, you need to give it more than fifteen minutes of thought.”
“It’s been twenty, but fine.” I can hear her relax through the phone. “Are you going to Mom and Dad’s on Sunday?”
“I plan on it.”
“Good. Just don’t bring this up in front of them or Evie. I might even be over it by then. Who knows?”
“Yeah. Who knows?”Me.I know that she’ll have forgotten all about this by then. “On another note, how did Dad do the other night? Evie sent me a few pictures and said it was going great, but Evie could be in a burning house and miss the fire.”
Elodie laughs. “It went pretty well. He got confused a few times, and we had to remind him where Mom went. He also tried to cheat in every hand of euchre. But, if you think about it, both of those things are pretty normal for him. Mom said his memory gets worse as the night goes on, most of the time, so she refused to let us stay the night. I think she didn’t want us to see it.”
My heart aches as that bit of information pierces it.
I’ve tried to be respectful of my parents’ privacy as they navigate this new diagnosis. I’m sure Mom feels helpless, and I know she wants to take care of Dad herself. It can’t be easy on her. But, so far, she seems to have found a new routine and is managing it reasonably well. At this point, having my sisters and me come barreling in, demanding answers and removing their agency, especially Mom’s, is disrespectful.
But where is the line? How do we help?
“I gotta go,” Elodie says. “I have a meeting in ten minutes, and I’m still sitting in my car from lunch.”
“Call me later if you want. Otherwise, see you on Sunday.”
“Thanks, Drake.”
“Love you.”
“Love you. Bye.”
“Later.”
I end the call and slip my phone into my pocket. My head lifts toward the door when it creaks open. Juni from reception smiles from the doorway.
“Hey,” she says. “The papers you had me get from the Tennessee Royals are on my desk. I can put them in the mail room or bring them to you in a bit.”
“I’ll grab them before I leave. Thanks, Juni.”
She nods and backs out of the room.
I exhale, ensuring I have everything I need before I leave for the day. My head is still spinning from my conversation with Elodie. I’m not sure what to think about that. As I hoist my bag onto my shoulder, a sound captures my attention and shoves all thoughts of my sister out of my brain.
Gianna’s laughter.
My stomach tightens as I lean toward the sound, wondering what she’s laughing about. I can imagine her smile and the way the corners of her eyes crinkle when she’s happy. The thin gold rings that adorn her little fingers are probably catching the lights above her. I wonder if she’s wearing red or pink lipstick. I also wonder why she chooses one over the other on any random day.
There’s so much about her that I don’t know, so much that she keeps locked up behind the set of walls that she’s built around herself. I wish that I knew why she constructed those, too. She never keeps any malefriendsaround for long and seems to pick the lowest fruit on the tree, yet neither of those things bothers her.
If she thinks love is a choice, why does she choose the men she does?
I guess that if I knew the answer to that, I’d be the one giving out relationship advice.
“Better stick to sports, Bennett,” I whisper and walk out the door.
CHAPTER
NINE
Gianna
