She held his hand, but he didn’t seem to notice or hear her.
He was still lost within himself.
“How am I ever going to do my art again? Or take care of you? Or…o-or—”
“Well, the answer’s obvious.”
His eyes shot open, and he frowned at her. “It is?”
She smiled softly and picked up both mugs in her own hands. “I’ll be the one to hold things steady until you can.” She offered one to Theo and waited.
He stared at the outstretched mug. After what seemed like aneternity, he lifted his left hand and plucked it away from her. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispered. He sniffed and wiped at his right eye. “How are you real?” he asked, searching her face. “Where did you come from?”
“Tampa.”
She’d deadpanned her answer, and after a second, he barked a surprised laugh before grabbing her free hand with his.
“Of course.Tampa.”
He limped with her over to the couch, and once he sat, Audrey curled up next to him and tucked herself under his arm. When Theo punched a button on a remote, a fire blazed to life in the grate beneath the TV, and they listened to the music mixed with the sounds of the rain pattering against the windows while quietly sipping their hot chocolate together. Between the warmth of the drink in her stomach and the heat Theo radiated around her, Audrey began to melt into his chest.
“You’ve been quieter than usual since we left campus and came here,” he murmured softly, combing through her drying waves. “Is something the matter? Is it me? Did I do something?”
He was right in that she’d gone a bit quiet, but he certainly wasn’t the reason.
Not exactly.
She shook her head and kept staring at her mug. Theo placed two fingers under her chin and gently tilted her head to make her look at him. “Audrey?” His eyes were warm and soft in the light of the fire, and his brows knit together in concern while he studied her face. “What’s wrong?”
She looked away from him and back at the neon sign on the wall.
“That’s really cool. Is it from your dad’s shop?”
“Yes, it was.” Theo chewed on his bottom lip, but he didn’t press her.
“How old is it? Is it vintage?” It had the look of an antique neonsign, very much a piece of classic Americana, and she wondered how long the auto shop had been in his family.
“No, actually. It’s only about ten years old, maybe?” He pointed at the car. “That one was my dad’s favorite—a 1965 Ford Thunderbird. He loved it so much that he wanted it immortalized on his shop’s sign.”
“Does he have a new sign there now if you have this one?”
Theo shook his head slowly. Something came over his eyes—something deeply sad. “No. The shop is sold now. This was the only thing I wanted to keep from it.”
“What happened? Did he retire?”
“No.”
He grew very quiet.
A creeping feeling prickled along the back of her neck. She was close to landing on something raw, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from asking the question in time.
“My dad died. About six months ago.” His eyes darted over to the console set beneath the sign and Audrey’s followed. Now that she was looking at it properly, a black-and-white photo of a very handsome man sat framed beneath the neon sign, lit up by the yellow, turquoise, and red-orange glow. He had the same crooked, roguish smile as his son, the same distinctive nose, and the same crinkles around his eyes as he smiled at the camera. He looked young, about Theo’s age now, and he held a grinning toddler on his hip, whose large ears poked through a familiar mop of dark hair.
Her heart dropped.
“Oh. Oh, Theo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s all right. I just miss him a lot, is all. I always thought I’d have more time with him.”
