“That makes him extra lucky.” I watched the dog soak in all the affection my nephews lavished on him. “Actually, though, Ifeel like the really lucky one. My life is so much better with Brick in it.”
“I think we’re all lucky,” said my sister, crouching down in the middle of the boys and dog, and rubbing Brick’s exposed belly. “I left tea for you guys on the kitchen table. You have to go in there if you want it.”
“And Cheez-its?” James clasped his hands together as if cheese crackers were the answer to all the problems in this world, which might be closer to true than I was comfortable admitting.
“No sharing people food with the dog,” said my sister, opening a whole new area of worry I hadn’t explored.
“It can make him sick and teach him bad habits. Here.” I went through the carefully laid out bags of food and treats and retrieved a pouch of Brick’s favorite biscuits. “Why don’t you guys each give him a treat before you go get yours. That way he won’t learn to beg and get himself in trouble.”
They jostled each other a bit to get into a line, and I handed them each a bite sized biscuit. Brick watched the proceedings as if he didn’t quite trust his luck. I took one for myself so I could show the kids how to do it and then motioned for Brick to come to me.
“He’s not snappy, but you can lay the biscuit flat on your hand if you’re nervous. Let’s see if we can get him to sit.” I raised my hand holding the biscuit and made a fist, sayingsitat the same time. Brick’s butt skimmed the ground, and I handed him the treat, taking the win even if it was a small one.
The boys followed my lead, each raising their fists and giving the command to sit before doling out the treats to an increasingly satisfied dog.
“You guys did great,” said my sister. “Now go get yourself a treat. Crackers, not dog biscuits,” she said as James eyed the bag of treats on the floor.
“Things you never thought you’d have to say?” I watched them head to the kitchen, with my dog bringing up the rear.
“I’ll add it to the list. So no party?”
I should have known it would take more than a cute kid/dog moment to make my sister forget I’d chickened out.
“No. It didn’t feel right.” It didn’t; that part was true, but there were about a thousand more options than just bailing on Elena.
“You’re the only one who can know that. How are you feeling about it now? Have you seen her since?”
“We’ve texted. She apologized for overreaching.” I almost didn’t add the last part because I still didn’t know how I felt about it. Silly for getting my feelings hurt. Wary because the perceived judgment felt so damn familiar. “We haven’t really talked since then.” I held back the part about missing her or how many times I thought about her during the day. How I’d see something and want to share it with her but stop myself before I reached out.
“You’re going to have to help me understand this. You met a woman you were objectively really into. Someone you had a relationship with that you thought might turn into something. She made a mistake which she admitted to and apologized for, and you haven’t talked with her since?” She sipped her tea, pinning me with a gaze not unlike the one she used on my nephews.
When she laid it out like that, it made all the chicken-shit feelings worse. I thought about telling her that Elena and I hadn’t talked all that much before, but that wasn’t really true. We may have started out with fantasies and sexting, but we’d become much more than that.
“I don’t know what to say. She likes things orderly. Hell, her whole business is about making beautiful spaces for people to live in. She deserves a guy who can remember to put thingsaway. One who closes cabinet doors and doesn’t forget and leave the groceries sitting on the counter for two days.” I’d only done that once, but it had meant throwing away all the refrigerated things. After that, I’d stopped doing my own shopping and paid Anna to handle it. “I’m never going to be that guy, and she’s going to hate me for it. I will in turn resent her for not accepting me for who I am, and anything we managed to build together will come crashing down around us.”
“Damn,” said my sister, stretching the word out to two syllables. “You doom cast the whole way to the end, didn’t you.”
“Maybe,” I said, self-consciousness making me prickly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re right either.” She set her glass on the table beside her. “Humor me for a minute, and let’s break some of this down. Admittedly, the whole opposites attract thing is a lot less problematic in the movies, but there’s a reason it’s one of those popular storylines. There’s something magical about being with someone who challenges you to try different things, to think in a different way. I never would have tried rock climbing if it hadn’t been for Scott. If I hadn’t wanted to impress him, my fear of heights would have kept me firmly on the ground. Now I’m at the rock gym a couple of times a week, usually without him because that’s how schedules work. Not only did I conquer my fear, but I found something new to love. Something that makes me feel strong and gives me space to clear my head when these hellions get to be too much.” She glanced in the direction of the kitchen and the kids. “Scott has a burning passion for historical romance books because I turned him on to Julia Quinn. It makes him a better, more empathetic man. That’s all me, baby.”
“Loving someone makes your life richer. I get it.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the obviousness of the statement lest she resort to her childhood habit of whacking me on the back ofthe head when I vexed her. “But I’m not talking about picking up new habits or learning new hobbies or being exposed to new things. This is about fundamental differences in the way people move through the world. In the things that are important to them.” I leaned back in the chair, feeling pretty confident in my rightness and hating it even more.
“Are you, though? Really?” She looked too smug for the questions to actually be questions. “A fundamental difference seems like more of a world-view thing. Or even a morality thing. What you’re talking about seems much more like a habit. I know it’s not simple.” She held her hand up, effectively silencing my protests. “I grew up with you, remember? You were a feral raccoon. I also know that you’ve done an amazing job putting systems in place to make your life work the way you need. Why can’t this be an extension of that? You show her that the things that are important to her matter to you—not because you care about or even notice the cabinet doors, but because you care about her. And you cut each other slack because you are both human and humans make mistakes. Relationships are hard.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “You’re the only one who can decide if it’s worth it to take a chance on this. I just hate to see you miss out on something that could be wonderful because you’re too scared to let yourself be vulnerable.”
I couldn’t tell her she was wrong because she wasn’t, but I also didn’t know how to explain the difference. If I opened myself up to Elena, dropped my walls and erased the boundaries I used to keep myself insulated, she’d have the power to hurt me. Really hurt me. And there was a terrified part of me that didn’t know how I’d survive that. There was another part of me that wanted to try. Because the idea of never seeing her again, never talking to her, or holding her didn’t feel all that survivable either.
“Just think about it.” She got down on the floor as the boys and blissed-out dog tumbled into the room.
“All the damn time,” I muttered under my breath as I went to join them.
34
“Can you make sure the invoices go out for the Hanson job by the end of the day?” I asked, scrolling through the project app on my tablet.
“Already done,” said Claire, setting a mug of coffee on the desk beside me.
