“I’m fine,” she says, curt.
Truth be told, I’m starting to get pissed. Why can’t she just say what’s on her mind? It’s a good thing my parents’ house is around the corner, because I’m two seconds from pulling a Brynn and letting her know just how pissed off I am.
We pull into the driveway, and Brynn does the weirdest thing. She leans forward, peers out the windshield, and smiles at the house.
“This is adorable. I love the river rocks and wood beams. It’s like a cabin, but…not. I don’t know.”
She gets out and meets me at the front of my truck, next to the garage.
“That would be my dad’s work.” I reach out and smack the smooth surface of a stone. “He created this facade. It took forever, arranging it all so it fit together nicely.”
“Did you help?”
I eye her. It’s the nicest tone she’s had with me since I picked up that book. In my head, I’ve been referring to it as Pandora’s box. “Yes. That was years ago, when I was in high school. I was less than thrilled to be helping him.”
My mom had guilt-tripped me into staying home from camping with Anthony’s family and helping my dad. If I’d known only eight years later my dad would be sick, I wouldn’t have made her talk me into it. If only I could go back in time and say yes every time he asked me to do something with him.
“You want to go in?” Brynn has walked a few feet away, closer to the front door. She waits for me to catch up. I stride past her and lead her inside.
“Mom? Dad? Brynn and I are here.”
“Connor, we’re out back,” my mom shouts, her voice sailing through the house.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing Brynn by the hand as I go. If she’s having a reaction to me touching her, I can’t tell.
The sliding glass door is wide open. We walk through and out onto the screened-in porch. Mom sits with a magazine in her lap, and Dad is in the chair beside her.
“Well, Brynn. We finally get to meet you.” Mom sets down her magazine and stands. She’s smiling at Brynn and holds open her arms. I’m not sure what Brynn’s going to do. I think she’s made it perfectly clear she’s not one for invasion of personal space or strangers touching her, but of course Brynn doesn’t do what I think she’ll do. She steps into my mom’s open arms and gives her a squeeze. My mom rubs her back a couple times. Dad’s eyes meet mine and I shrug.
Brynn lets my mom go and when she pulls back, she lets out an embarrassed chuckle.
Mom grins. “You needed a hug, didn’t you?”
Brynn nods.
I can’t help the irritated stream of air that escapes my lips. I’ve been around her all day and very available for a hug. What the fuck?
Mom puts her hands just below Brynn’s shoulders. “It’s nice to meet you, Brynn. Connor has stayed very tight-lipped about our new employee.” She gives me a pointed look. “I’m going to grab the peach iced tea I made this afternoon.”
She leaves, and I introduce Brynn to my dad. He tries to smile at her, but it’s more of a bare-teeth growl as he attempts to make his facial muscles work.
Brynn doesn’t miss a beat. She smiles happily at him, bending at the waist and taking his hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Vale. Your handiwork on the front of your house is stunning. It took my breath away when Connor pulled in. Thank you for hiring me. I needed this job very, very much.”
Tears prick my eyes and I have to look away. Fucking stupid. Why would watching Brynn show such kindness to my dad make me emotional? I’m probably just shocked she’s capable of kindness. Yep. That’s what it is.
He responds slowly, telling her thank you. “Connor needed help. I’m glad he found you.” It’s my dad’s voice, but the words don’t sound like his words. They are thick, like his tongue is too big for his mouth.
Brynn winks at him. “I’ll try to keep him in line. It’s hard though. He nearly broke my toe today when he dropped a wrench next to it.”
My mouth falls open.
Brynn laughs. “Okay, maaaybe it was me who dropped the wrench next to Connor’s toe.” She makes a funny face and my dad laughs. The asinine tears return, pricking the backs of my eyes.Dad hasn’t laughed in a while.Why don’t we make him laugh more? Mom is preoccupied with his care, and I’m running the family business, but that’s no excuse.
Mom returns then, carrying a glass pitcher and four blue plastic cups nestled inside one another.
“What’s so funny out here?”
“Brynn,” Dad says.
