So I don’t push.
And I’m rewarded with her voice speaking up from the backseat when we’re halfway home. “Can we do something tonight? Like, not just sit around.”
“Sure, kiddo. What do you want to do?”
She shrugs, her hands hidden in the sleeves of her hoodie. “I don’t know. Maybe invite Grandma and Grandpa over for dinner. Play some board games.”
“I’ll call Grandma and see what they’re doing.” She nods, looking out the window. “Addie, are you—”
“I’m okay,” she says before I can ask. “It’s just… It’s hard.”
“It’s supposed to be, I think.”
“Great,” she says, her voice flat, but I can see the corner of her lip twitch up in the rearview mirror. “Something to look forward to every week.”
Jess reaches back and takes her hand from the passenger seat. Addie holds onto it for the rest of the drive home.
Joyce and Frank are already there when we get back, and when Jess steps out of the car, her mother cries. Frank doesn’t, but he holds her for a long time, and that’s that. Nobody asks any hard questions. Jess is back, and that’s all that matters.
That’s the thing about Joyce and Frank, and what I wish Will would understand. They love their kids, and as long as they’re not actively harming themselves, they would defend them to the end of the earth.
Jess and her mom head into the kitchen and start pulling out things to make dinner. I can hear them complaining about the lack of groceries from where I am, standing behind the couch, but I ignore it.
Frank is in the living room with the kids, playing something on the big screen. Addie laughs at his poor abilities with the controller, but I can still see the sadness around her eyes. I can only hope that it will start to get better with Dr. Baker’s help.
Ollie asks me to take a turn, handing the controller up to me, and I’m about to take it when I hear the doorbell.
“I’ll get it,” I shout toward the kitchen, walking across the house to the door.
“Who is it?” Jess calls, following me anyway.
“I don’t know.” I look back at her, pulling the door open without checking.
That was a mistake.
He’s in the leather jacket from our first date, his hands in the pockets, the porch light reflecting in the snow sitting in hishair and on his shoulders. I don’t know how long I stand there, staring at him, my eyes darting down to his lips.
God, I missed them.
I missedhimso much.
And faced with him again, everything I said that morning, everything we did the night before, comes crashing back and my voice trembles when I say, “Will—”
“Oh! I forgot to tell you. I invited Uncle Will!” Addie says from the couch, interrupting whatever I was going to say. It’s probably for the best.
His eyes are on my face, narrowed, his mouth in a straight line, and he looks at me for one more second before he shoves past me into the house. That single contact sends a chill down my spine, even after all we’ve done, and I think I’m truly pathetic.
I’m still standing in the open doorway when I hear him with the kids.
“Hey, munchkins,” he says, sounding completely normal. “Long time no see.”
“I’m almost eighteen. I’m not a munchkin.”
“You’ll always be a munchkin to me.” I turn around in time to see her pull him into a hug. She opens her eyes, meeting mine across the room. And she’s saying something with them. Probably ‘apologize’ or ‘stop being a dick’ but I can’t. I don’t get the chance.
Because Jess is in here too.
Will pulls back from Addie to face his sister with wide eyes. His mouth opens, but he doesn’t say anything as several different emotions flicker across his face before he lands back on surprised. He looks at me for an answer, and my heart hurts, but I don’t let him see that.
