His dimple pops on one side when his mouth quirks at the corner. He’s smiling at me. Well, sort of. It’s a funeral-appropriate smile.
After glancing both ways to see if anyone is watching, I return his smile with one of my own. Even without seeing his eyes, I think he feels less alone because of this interaction. Or is that my foolish heart making wishes again?
Suddenly, he removes the sunglasses and tucks them into his suit pocket.
Despite our grim setting, my chest tightens and core heats. Same as always, any attention Reed gives me goes straight to my head, heart, and the unused lady parts below my waist.
Our moment of respite from the sorrow comes to an abrupt end as someone hands Reed a long-stemmed white rose, inviting him to be the first to adorn the coffin as it lowers into the earth.
As the rose falls silently from Reed’s hand, he stares into the hole. For what feels like a long time. Unspeaking. Unmoving. I’m not even sure if he’s breathing.
The old cracks in my heart resurface in response to the pain leeching from him. With the vast space between us, there’s nothing I can do to comfort him. I don’t think looking at the birds will work a second time.
But at least I gave him a moment of light before the dark returned.
Balancingthree mostly empty food trays in my hands, I enter the kitchen to find Reed having a tense stare-down with his mother. Although I attempt to set everything down without making a sound, both their heads snap in my direction.
“Sorry for interrupting.” I gesture at the trays. “I thought I should help clean up before I take Kenzie home.”
Mrs. Hayes offers me a warm smile. “Thank you, Lila. I can always count on you.” Her expression shifts into a near-scowl as she turns back to Reed. “Unlike some of my children.”
Oh boy. What in the world did I walk into here? Better question, where’s the nearest escape route? Follow-up question: Did she just imply I was one of her children? That’s weird. She’s never done that before. Not sure how I feel about it.
On second thought, I do know. And I don’t care for it.
Despite the tension in my home, being a child inthisfamily wouldn’t be an improvement. Especially since the divorce, there’s been a yellowdo-not-cross linedown the center of the family. Kenzie took her mom’s side, and Reed was in his dad’s corner. While Kenzie is my best friend, Reed’s a good friend too. I would hate to choose.
Plus, anything that further removes me from my sister is automatically out of the question.
I think I’d rather be an orphan at this point. Especially since I suspect Mrs. Hayes is using me to cut Reed down about some perceived indiscretion.
If I had feathers, they’d be puffed up in defense of him right now.
Because he’s my friend, and I’m protective of my friends. And that’s the only reason. Honest.
I attempt to back out of the kitchen stealthily, but fail again when I graze a dining chair with my wide hip, sending it careening to the tile. Guess I won’t be getting into ninja school after all. Probably for the best. I can’t afford the tuition on a barista’s salary.
“Forgive my clumsiness.” Holding my head down in shame, I awkwardly retrieve the chair and slide it under the table. “I was on my way out to give you some privacy.”
“No. It’s fine, Lila. You should stay to help Reed tidy up.” Mrs. Hayes rolls her shoulders back, lifting her chin. “I need some fresh air.” Her flowery perfume stirs in the air as she brushes by me, nauseating me slightly.
After an awkward pause, I face Reed and shrug. “Surely not everyone was kung fu fighting, right?”
The hard lines of his face and his rigid posture soften incrementally.
Without missing a beat, I fling more at him. “Once, there was this cow with a knack for hiding in the pasture. Then he’d pop up at random, surprising everyone. They call him Moodini.”
He grimaces. “Cookie, that’s a terrible dad joke unworthy of even a pity laugh.” Despite his faux scolding, his frame relaxes. “I’ve come to expect better from you.”
“I was rushing. I can do better.” Deciding to go all-in on cheering him up with my whimsy, I point an accusatory finger at the chair and scowl. “How dare you pick a fight with me? You stay on four legs, or else I’ll turn you into firewood.”
When I look back at Reed, he’s outright smiling. Stupid humor wins the day every time. Actually, maybe nine times out of ten. Or eight. Seven at worst.
While wracking my brain for more nonsense, he shocks the heck out of me by joining in. “If Hippies exist and Vikings exist, does that mean Viking Hippies are real?”
“Hey!Thief.” I sputter through shocked chuckles. “Aren’t you a cop? Arrest yourself for stealing my whimsical distraction technique.”
Reed shakes his head, ardently refusing to laugh although it’s plain to see how much he wants to. “Not a prosecutable crime.”
