“Selfie,” I explain.
“Is that a Kardashian thing?” he asks, and I laugh. He laughs with me, even though I know it’s a legitimate question. My dad doesn’t know a thing about social media. Doesn’t even have a Facebook account.
I snap a couple shots and turn the camera around to check them out on the screen. We’re laughing in all of them, but my favorite is the one where he reached up and ruffled my hair. I have to make sure to download that one so I can print it and frame it.
When we get home, I help my dad up the three steps to the porch. Once he’s on the porch, I go back down to get the walker. We’ll have to put in a ramp next summer. We probably should have already. A car rumbles down the street toward me. We’re on the last block before the beach so it’s a dead end. Most of the cottages around us are closed already for the winter. And it’s early, so who is…it’s a taxicab.
It stops at the curb in front of our place, and she gets out, pulling a small carry-on bag with her. She looks tired and a little disheveled and like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She stops on the edge of the sidewalk as the cab pulls away.
“I didn’t know if you would come,” I say, my voice raw.
“Really?” She gives me a timid smile. “Because I did.”
“Zoey Quinlin!” My dad’s voice suddenly booms from the top of the stairs. “You’re still a beauty!”
“Mr. Braddock!” She grins and waves. “You’re still a handsome devil!”
“And still a charmer.” He laughs, and his eyes find mine. “Jude, why don’t you bring your girl and my walker up here. You can offer her some butter coffee and I’ll go lie down. That beach adventure left me in need of a nap.”
I motion for her to climb the stairs. I’m hoping the fact that she used the ticket also means that she’s going to stay with us, because that’s what I’d intended. Still, if she wants a hotel I’ll book her one, because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s here. I can make this right.
I follow behind her up the stairs, carrying my dad’s walker. He’s already hugging Zoey by the time I get up there. I give the walker back to him and watch him carefully, without making it obvious I’m watching him, as he heads back into the living room and to his bedroom. After he closes the door, I turn to Zoey and extend my hand. She takes it without hesitation, and I’m about to lead her back onto the porch for some privacy when there’s a stampede on the stairs.
Fucking great.
“Oh my God. Dixie wasn’t lying!” Sadie bellows. “She’s actually here!”
“Zoey!” Winnie hollers and runs right at us, wrapping Zoey in a hug. “I can’t believe you came!”
“I told you he invited her,” Dixie says, smiling as she jumps down the last step with a loud thud.
“Can you all shut up? Dad just went to lie down and it’s barely nine in the morning,” I chastise.
“I know, but when a sign of the apocalypse happens, you wake up pretty quick,” Sadie explains and turns to Zoey. “A beautiful, smart girl we all adore giving my brother another shot is a total apocalyptic moment.”
Zoey laughs, which is better than correcting Sadie. I really hope that means she’s giving me another shot. Dixie grabs Zoey’s bag from her and hands it to Winnie. “Come into the kitchen and sit. You must be hungry. Sadie can make her awesome cheesy bacon quiche.”
“Sure!” Sadie replies happily, and they start to try to pull Zoey into the kitchen.
“I’m starving, but I think your brother and I need to talk,” she explains, and her beautiful hazel eyes find mine.
“You can talk to him later,” Winnie says. “I mean, you’re staying with us, right?”
She glances at me again. “If that’s all right.”
“It’s more than all right,” I say.
“Good. I’ll put your bag in my room, and Sadie can feed you, and Jude can beg you to take him back later. When you have a full stomach,” Winnie announces and runs back upstairs with Zoey’s bag.
Zoey looks at me over her shoulder as my sisters pull her off. “It’s okay. We’ve got time.”
She smiles and lets them drag her to the kitchen.
The sun is setting before I get a moment alone with her. After my sisters made her breakfast, my mom and dad got up, and they had to spend time with her. They wanted to know everything about the last eleven years of her life and her parents’ lives and Morgan’s life. And by then she was yawning every five seconds, and she was starting to get circles under her eyes, and I realized she might not have slept well on the overnight flight. So I urged her to take a nap.
It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done—letting her go upstairs without me—but I knew she needed rest, and if I went up there, I would definitely not let her do that. I’d want to talk and then I’d want to have sex. And both of those aren’t ideal with the sorority and my parents a floor below in a cottage with paper-thin walls.
I decide to go for a run on the beach while she naps to avoid thinking too much and to avoid being bothered by the sorority. I run seven miles. When I get back I’m drenched in sweat and my legs feel like Jell-O. I open the door to the porch and pull my shirt off and use it to wipe my face. I hear someone groan in disgust.
