“We can’t,” I breathed. “Wecan’tdo this.”
“Too fucking late,” he ground out angrily. “We already did.”
My eyes went wide. “Fuck you,” I spat, fumbling blindly for the door. Flinging it open, I dashed outside. “Britta, wait!”
Racing down the path after Britta, my eyes were burning, my heart was pounding out of my chest.Oh god.What was I doing? And with Logan, of all people. Our relationship had always been shaky, volatile at best, held together only by our mutual love of Lucas—a love we’d both betrayed in the worst possible way.Again.
Up ahead, Britta glanced over her shoulder. “Done already?” she asked as I fell in step beside her. “Didn’t take Eddie for thewham-bam, thank you, ma’amtype.”
“Don’t,” I whispered, grabbing her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Please don’t make jokes right now.”
Britta’s expression pulled into a frown. “Oh, sugar, what’s the matter? Ain’t this what you wanted?”
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “Not with him. Never withhim.”
“Somethin’ wrong with Eddie… other than that stick up his ass?”
“He’s Luke’s brother,” I said hoarsely. “And I love Luke.”
“Sugar, Luke is gone,” she said with a sympathetic shrug. “He’s dead, and you and Eddie are still alive. We don’t stop livin’ when someone dies, do we?”
My mouth worked soundlessly while I fumbled for a reply I couldn’t find.
“What would Luke want?” she pressed. “Would he want y’all happy?”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. Not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I did.
Throwing her arm over my shoulders, Britta tugged me forward. “Look at it this way,” she said. “Life has gotten mighty short these days, and it sure ain’t sweet. Take Hank, for example.” She shrugged again. “If you’re lucky enough to find somethin’ or someone that makes you feel good, then I say take it.”
I stayed silent while we walked, wishing it were that simple. Of course, Luke would want me to be happy. He’d want Logan to be happy, too. But would he want us to be happy together? And what if it went wrong between Logan and me, which it undoubtedly would. What then?
“Stop overthinkin’ it,” Britta said. “There ain’t much good left in the world so you gotta take what you can, when you can, and damn the consequences. And speakin’ of Hank, we got a celebration to be gettin’ to.”
For the second time in two days, the occupants of Silver Lake gathered together at the dining hall in celebration. This time without fairy lights strung from the rafters, without music playing, or jugs of wine and elaborate platters of food passed around. This was a different sort of gathering; the somber celebration of a man’s life cut short.
Attendees sat in a makeshift circle at one end of the hall while, one by one, Hank’s friends took to the center of the circle to share funny stories involving Hank, and to express how much he would be missed.
“He’s with his wife and kids now,” Davey said, concluding his speech. “His grandkids, too. He’s home.”
As Davey stepped away, EJ took his place in the circle. “You remember that time the chickens escaped?” he said wistfully. “And Hank was chasing them through camp with his pants falling down?” As the group began to laugh, EJ started sniffling, quickly growing too choked up to continue.
“Lord, that man is softer than warm butter.” Britta shook her head. “Lemme go rescue him” Sliding off the bench we were sharing, she hurried to lead EJ from the circle, taking his place.
“Y’all recall when little Béla asked for a swing and Hank decided to take it upon himself to build one?”
“That’s my swing!” From his seat on his mother’s lap, Béla clapped happily.
“Yeah, darlin’, it’s your swing I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Britta said. “But it weren’t always so great, ya know. Ol’ Hank had never built a swing before; he didn’t have a dang clue what he was doin’. Spent a full week puttin’ together some rickety lookin’ thing, actin’ all proud like he’d built himself a whole ass playground.”
“Then he went and broke it,” someone called out, as laughter tittered through the group.
“He sure did,” Britta agreed with a chuckle. “Hank thought he’d try it out, makin’ sure it was safe for Béla; only once he sat himself down the whole thing collapsed on him.
“And what did Hank do? Well, you know he got up off the ground, pulled the splinters from his ass, and started buildin’ that swing all over again. That’s what I liked about Hank—whatever happened, no matter how big or small, he always held steady. And I’m thinkin’ that’s just what he’d want us to do now—hold steady.”
While the crowd murmured in agreement, Jordy slid into the chair beside me. “Hey,” he whispered. “I missed you this morning. And last night. Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” I muttered.
