Sometime while they were playing, he must have moved closer to Miss Riley, bringing him out of the plants’ shadows. And I can’t believe who I’m staring at. Who’s staring back at me.
My voice shakes when I whisper, “Joshua?”
Those grey eyes are locked on mine, surprise written all over his face. There’s no way he can be more surprised than me. “Blue ... what?” He clears his throat, his gaze slowly taking in the length of me, as if he’s trying to make sure it’s really me standing here. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” I all but choke out. “This is where I volunteer. I came to ...” But the words fall away when I glance at Miss Riley, who’s now staring at her piano, creases in her forehead.
Oh, Miss Riley. I’ve interrupted your moment.
I walk toward her slowly, working hard to keep my focus on her rather than Joshua—not easy to do when my chest is a mess of flutters because of him. “Here, Miss Riley, I brought these for you. I didn’t know you play piano so well.”
I can’t help the way my eyes pull magnetically to Joshua, and I wonder if he sees the hurt in them.
I didn’t know you play at all.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if I hadn’t witnessed him just now, the way they played together. A sound so tender has to come straight from the soul and years of devoted practice, no doubt.
Seeming to read my mind, he shuts his eyes, his jaw hardening. “Blue ...”
Stepping around the instrument, I lift Miss Riley’s hand and gently place the flowers in her palm. She wraps her fingers around them. “Oh,” she murmurs, looking up at her son. “Joshua ... aren’t they beautiful?”
If my eyes were watering before, they’re about to spill over now. Those are the most words I’ve ever heard from her. And they’re perfect. It hits me then she called him Joshua, not Hunt. Just like me.
I can’t believe my Joshua is Miss Riley’s son.
“Yes,” he says hoarsely, dragging my attention to him. I swallow hard at the way he’s looking at me, his focus heavier than the tension floating between us. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
A rush of air leaves my lips, and I look away. I don’t know why it feels like this. I wanted to see him, didn’t I? I needed to see that he was okay, and I guess he is. Why can’t I just leave it at that? Why does something as simple as seeing him here have to feel so ... so complicated?
It’s his life. He’s free to keep parts of it from me. But standing here, in the middle of something so significant, so deeply a part of who he is, and feeling like such a stranger ... I can’t understand it, feeling so far away. I know Miss Riley. I know her son. Iloveher son. Yet I’m not a part of any of this. I’m on the outside looking in, a wall dividing us, an extra layer of bricks being added with every second I watch them.
There are too many confusing emotions beating against my chest. Most of them unpleasant, the kind I never had to feel before moving here. The kind I don’t want to feel now.
Looking at Miss Riley, I smile, hating that it’s forced. “You like them? Should I put them on your piano? I can, um, replace the ones in your vase for you.”
A distant look flits through her eyes as she glances at the piano, almost like she forgot the instrument was there. She nods. “Yes?” It comes out like a question.
I’m about to walk forward when Joshua shoots up from the bench. “I’ll help,” he says suddenly, a little too loudly. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing at Miss Riley before sweeping an uncertain gaze back to mine. “I mean, is that all right? Can I ... can I talk to you?”
“Um ...” I set the flowers on the piano, chewing my lip.
“Blue. Please.” He moves toward me, urgency in his step, and Miss Riley jumps in her seat as he brushes past her.
Her eyes go wide, darting between the two of us. “I don’t ... no ... what is this?” Her words are slow, but the alarm ringing through her voice is as sharp as glass.
“Mom?” Just like that, Joshua’s kneeling before her. He dips his head, looking closely into her eyes. When she doesn’t respond, he drops his low voice to a tone so gentle a flutter runs through me. “It’s just me, all right? Just me and you.”
Another side of him I’ve never seen. This one seeps through my rib cage, touching the center of me. Melting my heart like he’s lit a fire at my feet.
“Hey,” he drawls, brushing the hair from her eyes, “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m gonna sit right here and play another song. Will you play with me again?”
I’m mesmerized, my body rooted to the ground, but my soul is floating toward him. This is the warmth I’ve sensed ever since our first conversation, when I caught up to him in the parking lot after school and was met with resentment. The warmth I knew was there before he consciously showed it to me. He’s shown it to me countless times since then, dousing me in the kind of affection that pulled my feet out from under me and sent me falling hard, but it’s on display tenfold now. Here, with his mom, this is the heart of it.
Miss Rileyishis heart. His kindness. His tie to everything gentle.
His safe place.
“You ...” Her brow furrows, and I take a step back even though she’s not talking to me. As quick as the flick of a switch, something’s not right. “You.”
