Me:Yeah.
I realized right then that I had been so busy I hadn’t texted her all day.
Me:My grandma died a few days ago. Her lawyer called to tell me about the funeral arrangements. She had asked that he let me know….
A wave of sadness and guilt had me holding my breath before I kept typing.
Me:The funeral is next week in San Antonio. I don’t want to go, but I kinda owe it to her to have one of us go. Better me than Lily, Kyra, or Thea.
Was my head starting to hurt or was I imagining it?
Gripping my phone in my hand, I glanced up and took in the man ten feet away. I studied his wide back, no longer covered by a gray shirt but instead by a deep green Henley that hugged the flat expanse of his stomach, every notch of his spine, and curve of his lateral muscles, yet managed to still cling to his waist. He was plain big all over. Everywhere. I’d watched him enough to know. I could live the rest of my life and not forget any part of what he looked like.
I sighed, but I still didn’t look away. He’d already been standing at the bar for at least five minutes, either still waiting for his drink or pretending like I wasn’t the only person from work here.
My phone buzzed again.
Lenny:That blows. I’m sorry.
Lenny:I’ll go with you. I ain’t scared.
I bit the inside of my cheek and typed my response.
Me:I know you would, Len, but you’re still healing from your surgery and can’t choke anybody out.
I knew I should tell her that I was thinking about asking Rip, but she didn’t know about the favor. She had heard, better than anyone, just what I thought about him. It wouldn’t make sense to her why a man who barely spoke to me would go with me back home.
I had buried myself in a lie by not telling the truth, and now there was no way to get out of it without having to explain the whole thing, and as much as I loved and cared for Lenny DeMaio, it wasn’t my business to tell her what had happened.
Rip and I were the only two people in the world who needed to know the truth.
Me:Next family funeral.
Next family funeral.Like there was someone else in my biological family other than my sisters who I would miss or go visit when they were gone. How sad was that?
When I’d been growing up, I would have done freaking anything for a dad to tuck me in. For a mom who would hug me and put Band-Aids on my boo-boos. For an older brother to protect me when people were mean. For my dad to play with me. For the person I had called my mom for years to hug me. For my older brother to just pay attention to me.
I had a faint memory of writing a letter to Santa when I’d still been holding out hope that he would finally be able to find my house so I could ask for things. But Santa never took my letters. He never answered any of my requests.
Christmas as a kid had included my uncle’s family coming over for whatever fast food whoever was sober enough to realize we needed to eat, brought over, and so much beer and alcohol, everyone over the age of fifteen got drunk and started arguing. There was always at least one fistfight or two and at least one drug. There were never any gifts. A single tree or ornament. Or any love. Christmas hadn’t been anything like what movies showed.
For a long, long time, I would have done anything if the family I had at that point would have just been… a fraction of the people I wanted them to be.
But they hadn’t been.
A lot of people didn’t have that. I wasn’t alone, and that knowledge had helped the older I’d gotten. It still hurt, and part of me still couldn’t help but wish…
I sighed.
Then one little sister had come, and another, and then Lily… and they had been everything I could have hoped for. It probably helped that their mom didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, but they had been my little people. They had given me their love, and I had taken it all.
I had done my best to make sure at least my sisters had a tiny little something on Christmas Day from money I stole from whoever was dumb enough to leave their purse or wallet lying around. A hairbrush from the dollar store. Some barrettes. Maybe it wasn’t anything flashy, but it was something, and none of them had ever complained.
That’s why I was going to go to San Antonio. So they wouldn’t. So even Grandma Genie wouldn’t be alone with people she hadn’t been able to stand either while she’d been alive.
My best friend wrote me back immediately, saving me from going down that path of useless wishes that were never going to come true.
Lenny:I have another arm, bish, and two good legs.
