“Liam?”
He opens it, revealing a waif-thin beauty climbing out of bed, her hair in a messy ponytail, still dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He hugs her, and Liam’s mom brushes a tear from her eye.
“I’ve been waiting and waiting andwaitingfor you.”
“I’m here now. And I brought Paige. Remember, I told you about her on the phone?”
“I remember.” She smiles tightly and leans in for a brief hug.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bishop,” I say gently.
“Please forgive the state of me this weekend, Paige. I’ll be sure to make a better impression on you if we ever speak again.”
I canseein his eyes that Liam’s about to spiral over her use of the wordif, so I jump in smoothly. “Nothing to forgive. But I’d love to see you again soon, maybe at one of Liam’s games. We could organize it.”
She nods at me, eyes glinting with the first sign of life. I’ve somehow impressed her.
“I could use both of your help with a few things today. The yard, the roof. I want to get some flowers before we go to the cemetery tomorrow. And maybe we should cook dinner.”
“How about steaks on the grill, like how Dad made them?” Liam asks.
Her head tilts. “You think you can manage that?”
“Of course not, but I can get close.” He winks at her.
She laughs, hugging him again, and relief breaks across Liam’s face.
We busy ourselves for the rest of the day, me taking Liam’s car to get groceries and agonizing over the flower options for thirty minutes. I end up buying four bouquets and presenting them to his mom, who chooses her favorite stems and rearranges them into the perfect bouquet. She smiles at me like I’ve given her something. Liam cleans the gutters with his brothers-in-law while Kayla and Heather work on dinner prep. Heather passes me little Benjamin at one point, and I ask for clear directions on how to hold him, which she promptly offers.
We eat outside as the sky goes dark, Kayla running to the shed to break out the citronella candles, and over dinner, the Bishops talk about all the things in that shed that belonged to Henry Bishop. His landscaping stuff. His woodworking projects. The camping equipment, some of it never used. They tell stories, and crack jokes about him, and pass looks like they love each other. Heather even lets Liam hold the baby after a whole hour of his good-natured pestering.
In fact, the only actual rub in this family seems to be coming from Benny and Lucas, who have as much tact as heavy machinery and seem to thrive off making people uncomfortable. Mild sexual innuendos, jabs about intelligence, comparing ring sizes. Innocuous in one light, offensive in another. Benny hasn’t reached for his sononce, too busy cradling beers. Liam’s mom tunes in, then spaces out, lost in a forest in her mind.
When we all peel off to bed, Liam and me taking quick turns in the half bathroom before climbing into our tent, me in my baseball pajamas, the first thing he says to me is, “Lucas and Benny are getting worse with age.”
I laugh and say, “Maturing in reverse?”
“More like getting too comfortable being their authentic selves.”
I shrug. “They’re your family now.”
He nods, pulling me against his chest, our feet tangled up under the single cotton sheet we’re sleeping beneath. “They never talked like that in front of Dad.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. But my heart feels like it’s being raked over coals at the hurt in his voice, the loss.
The subliminal message that Liam’s not like his dad. Or enough like him.
“I might be quiet tomorrow,” he warns me, lips pressing to my forehead.
I whisper against his heart, “You don’t have to say a word.”
I’m not sure he’ll reach for me tonight until he does—and then we’re grasping at each other, quieter than we’ve ever been, our skin hot with the summer night. He takes me slow, his breath ragged, but it’s the first time he’s silent all the way through.
Except for the end, when Liam whispers, “For me, from the very first day. It was you.”
Chapter 25
July, Now
