It’s bold. She’s right, it’d be a fantastic addition. The brick wall by the office would be perfect.
“Maybe that brick wall?—”
“By the office.” I smile, finishing her sentence. “Great minds.”
I nod and set it with the two she’s donating to the Safehouse auction.
She hands me a framed jigsaw puzzle he glued together. “Don’t need this one.”
She struggles making a decision on the next three, but in the end, she donates two and only keeps one. Kelly pauses, gathering her hair in both hands, twisting the locks into a messy bun. She swipes the back of her arm across her forehead and scrutinizes the stacks we have yet to go through.
“Proud of you,” I say.
“What?” she mutters, moving another stack aside.
“You’re doing a good job. It’s not easy.”
Her shoulders relax, and she offers me a soft smile. “Thanks for being here. This probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your day off, but it’s really nice to not be alone.”
“Not that I ever mind doing this with you, but just out of curiosity, is there a reason you don’t ask Jason?”
“Come on.” She huffs out a breath. “Don’t start with me, Logan.”
“What? I’m asking in good faith.” I just want her to admit it, that I’m better at taking care of her than he is.
She sighs. “I almost called Jason. My finger hovered over his name. You know I’ve been putting off this part because it’s the hardest—figured I’d start crying at some point.”
“He’s never seen you cry?”
“Once, when I was telling him about Dad. It was clear he was uncomfortable. He kept looking around, like he was hoping for something he could use as a distraction. It’s not his fault, some people just aren’t great at dealing with other people’s emotions. He tries. He’s a sweet guy, and he has good intentions, but perhaps I’m not yet ready to share all of this with him.”
I open my mouth to tell her he’s insecure but then decide better of it. After all, I gave my word. “I’m glad you share it with me.”
“Well, you have a knack for helping me decipher what is actually valuable, and you’re a good sounding board when I’m trying to justify keeping something, even when it’s not the logical decision.” She grins, poking me in the side. “You’re an enabler.”
“Oh yeah?”
She shrugs. “In many ways, you loved my dad as much as I did, so part of me feels like you should have a say in it too. I trust you to handle his items with care and respect. You get it.”
“You know, I needed you too after he died. We had to lean on each other a lot to survive those early months.”
She scoffs. “I leaned on you a lot more than you leaned on me. That’s probably when our friendship was taken to the next level?—”
“Next level?” I question.
“I just mean . . . You were my silent strength when Dad died. You’ve always been steadfast and reliable. You’re a rock.”
A grin spreads across my face. “I’m your rock.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head. Jason is trying, and that counts. He’ll get better.”
Ugh.
While she goes through a few more, I pop the lid off a box of photos and thumb through them. Some are Kelly’s baby photos. She was a cute kid. I wonder if she wants to be a mom someday . . .How have I never asked her before?
I continue flipping, then pause on one; she appears to be about five years old, with both arms wrapped around an absolutely massive dog that’s as tall as she is. Her face presses into its fur, both of them wearing huge grins. This hellhound must be patient zero of her obsession with dogs and why she squeals at every pup on the sidewalk and asks the owners if she can pet them. I smile and place the stack of photos back in the box, then slide the lid into place.
“How are you feeling about the competition coming up?”
