I must have dosed off because the next thing I know Logan is helping me get out of the bath. He carefully wraps a fluffy white towel around my body and secures one around his waist. He dries my skin and follows with my moisturizer. No words could ever express how deeply grateful I am for him.
After brushing our teeth, he leads me back into the bedroom and grabs me one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxer briefs to sleep in out of his backpack.
“Here, put this on. I like you in my clothes.” He winks at me as he helps me get dressed.
I watch him silently as he drops his towel on the floor and pulls on a pair of clean sweats. Drawing back the blankets onthe bed, he gestures for me to get in first and I obey his silent command. I’m okay with him taking charge – I don’t want to make any more decisions today. Lying down beside me, he pulls my back to his chest securing one arm around my stomach and the other under my head.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he says softly into my hair. As exhaustion takes me, I feel him squeeze a little tighter before he whispers, “I love you.”
Chapter Five
21 years old
Once Hannah’s breathing becomes slow and rhythmic, I extract my arm out from beneath her and slide out of bed, careful not to wake her. She looks so tiny buried under the weight of the blankets with her hands clasped under her chin. Even in sound sleep, her beautiful face still shows signs of the immense stress she carries.
Silently, I slip from the room and gently shut the door before heading back downstairs. The house is completely silent except for the tick of the kitchen clock. I’m exhausted, but I’m too wound up to go to bed this early. I was worried that if I lay there too long, my restlessness might wake Hannah, and she needs all the sleep she can get.
If I am feeling this overwhelmed, I can’t even begin to imagine how Hannah must be feeling. I want to do more to support her, but beyond practical self-care things, I don’t know how else I can help. Maybe I’ll ask Ryan what he thinks I should do. He may have suggestions.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a knock on the back door. Seriously, can this day not be over already? Checking the time, I see it’s just a little past nine, but it’s still too late for unexpected guests. Peering through the window, I see my younger brother, Jackson, on the other side.
Opening the door, I pull him inside quickly before he has a chance to knock again. I don’t want to risk waking anyone up.
“Hey, what’s going on? I thought you were spending the night at Dad’s,” I ask, taking in his appearance. He is underdressed for the cold, snowy weather, but he’s sixteen so that’s not terribly surprising. Way too cool for boots or a warm coat. What I am surprised about is the distinct smell of alcohol radiating off him. His eyes are red and glassy, and his dark, brown hair is damp from the snow.
Ignoring my question, he tips his chin up and asks, “Where’s Mom?”
“She went up to bed early. It has been a long day,” I explain as I go to the sink and fill a glass of water. “Do you want something to drink?” I ask, extending the glass to him.
He shakes his head and shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket. “So, what, she’s just staying here now?”
“Just last night and tonight to help with Grace.” I take a drink then place the empty glass in the sink as I watch him.
“Right. To help with Grace,” he echoes, quietly looking down at his snow-covered high tops.
“Jackson, what’s going on? Are you okay?” I duck my head trying to get him to meet my eyes, but he avoids them.
“Why do you care?” His shoulders raise with a sigh before he looks up.
“Of course I care, you’re my brother.” Jackson and I were closer when we were kids, but as I got older it became more difficult to connect with him. I got busier and we no longer have anything in common.
“Sure, but why start caring now? You haven’t given a shit about anyone but Hannah since you left.” He snorts, shaking his head.
“Left?” I squint in confusion. “I went to school, and Hannah is my girlfriend. You know you can get in touch with me anytime you need me. I will always make time for you.”
“Pfft, do I?” he huffs. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“Jackson, what’s wrong? I’m here now, just talk to me,” I plead, placing a hand on his arm.
“Nothing, I was just looking for Mom.” He shrugs me off and moves closer to the door.
“I can go get her.” I point towards the ceiling. Grace’s room has been silent for over an hour so I hate waking Mom up, but if that’s what he needs, I will.
“Nah, she’s ‘helping’ with Grace.” He uses his fingers to air quote.
“I don’t know what your problem is tonight. I know you have been drinking. I can smell it on you.” Shaking my head in irritation, I grab a dish towel to mop up the puddle of melting snow that has collected on the tile from Jackson’s shoes.
“Don’t worry about it.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and looks away.
