Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
JULIETTE
From elation at being folded into a family to heartbreak watching a brother-in-law I barely knew grieve a woman I’d never meet. We made daily trips to the hospital. When evening came, everyone—minus whoever stayed with James—migrated to one of the Duprees’ houses for dinner.
After the meal, the guys played “touch” football, though someone always walked away with a bloody lip or a ripped shirt.
While they tried not to maim each other, the women claimed the fire pit.
From the first night, Peyton and I huddled together.
She confessed that one of her dreams was to start her own beauty line.
We swapped ideas on what she might try if she ever worked up the nerve to do it.
James was released from the hospital two days before Sage’s funeral. That morning, with the help of Silas and Griffin, he wobbled from the car to the house. He plopped into the La-Z-Boy, where he sat for hours, bloodshot eyes fixed on nothing, as if his tether to the world had quietly snapped.
Sage’s parents stopped by for dinner. When the meal was over, Griffin, Maggie, Bowen, Sophie, and I curled up on the couches, trying to get James to engage in a conversation. No such luck.
Standing beside the dining room table, Scott, Sage’s dad, bounced a fussy Willow in his arms.
“He’s not even acknowledging her,” Heidi whispered across the table to Lemon.
Scott shook his head. “It’s like a cow rejecting her calf.”
“He’s just…broken right now,” Lemon said. “That’s all.”
Silas looped an arm around her shoulders and rested his cheek against her hair. The Duprees were everything Griffin said they were. The way they loved their spouses was something I’d invented in my head as a child, not knowing if it was real.
“He’ll be okay,” Silas said. “He just needs some time.”
“Until then…” Heidi stood and shoved her chair in. “Maybe we should take Willow home with us.”
James said nothing, but a tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it on his sleeve.
All day, Sage’s mom had brought up this idea with a longing in her voice. I understood the heartbreak she felt at losing her only child. If I’d had someone to cling to after losing my mom, I would have. But…
Griffin was practically vibrating next to me. “It’s not Willow’s job to replace Sage,” he hissed.
That right there.
On the opposite couch, Bowen’s eyes turned stormy, his shoulders stiff. Not happening, he mouthed.
Because he looked and sounded most like James, he’d quietly appointed himself Willow’s stand-in father—bottle-feeding, rocking, changing every diaper.
Anytime he had to hand her over, he looked like he was being asked to do something unreasonable.
If Scott and Heidi tried to leave with Willow, Bowen might actually wrestle her from Scott’s arms.
Maggie’s knee bounced as she clutched Bowen’s elbow, whispering calming words.
Sitting on the other side of Griffin, Sophie straightened, shoulders back. “Willow should stay with James,” she said, every syllable edged with restrained fury. “He’s her dad.”
“And we’re her mother’s parents,” Scott said. “And we’re not rejecting her.”
“He’s not rejecting her.” Bowen shot to his feet. “He almost died. He lost the love of his life. He can barely breathe through it. Can’t you see that? You need to give him a minute.”
I thought Griffin might join in. He looked tense enough to flip a table. Instead, he pulled out his phone and started texting… the Dupree family group chat.
“Bowen,” Lemon censured. “Calm down.”
“No.” He turned to face Scott and Heidi directly. “We’re sorry that you lost Sage. But James lost her, too. You still have each other. He has no one but Willow, and he’ll sink even lower if you take her from him.”
“We have to do what’s best for Willow,” Scott said.
“And we have to do what’s best for James and Willow,” Silas said. “She should stay here. She has to bond with James, or it’s going to cause problems later.”
“But he’s not bonding,” Heidi said. “He’s sitting there, zoned out.”
“Again!” Bowen’s voice was nearly a shout. “He just lost his—”
Griffin stood. “What would Sage want us to do?” That brought everyone to a halt. He took a large, calming breath. “If Sage was looking down on us now—and knowing her, she probably is—who would she want Willow to be with?”
I’d never met Sage, but I knew if something ever happened to me, I’d want Future Weston to stay with Griffin.
“She’d want her here with James.” Heidi whimpered. “She loved that boy something fierce.”
“She did,” Lemon said. “She does.” Griffin’s mom, who I was learning had more grace than three average people combined, pulled Heidi into a tight hug. “Come and see Willow tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. Come every day if you want.”
“Okay,” Heidi whispered.
“We’re not going to withhold her from you,” Lemon said. “I think when she’s a little older, it would be more than appropriate for her to have a weekly sleepover at your house. I’m sure James will agree.”
The doorbell rang.
Lemon looked at Silas. It was nearly nine p.m.
Griffin jogged from the room, but he didn’t head to the front door. He went in the other direction, to his parents’ room.
Silas stood to answer the door but stopped when he heard it open.
“Knock, knock.” It sounded like Ford, but there were other muffled voices in the background.
“Come on in,” Silas called.
We heard a stampede of footsteps, and then the front door shut. Apparently, Ford brought an entourage.
Griffin reappeared with a blanket draped over his arm and a black plastic box with a handle that vaguely resembled my elementary school flute case.
He dropped down in front of James and spread the blanket out.
“All right, Jamsie.” He squeezed his brother’s knees. “It’s time to snap out of it, okay?”
James looked up. His forehead crinkled.
Griffin unlatched the case and pulled out… a pair of clippers.
“Bro.” Bowen chuckled. “Are you buzzing James’s hair?”
“Nah.” Griffin grinned. “James is going to buzz Ford’s hair.”
Lemon gasped, and we all turned our attention in her direction.
My jaw dropped.
Blocking the great room entrance, Ford was doing a deeply unfortunate Kevin James dance from the movie Hitch, his curls picked into a full afro and dyed in violent rainbow stripes like some ratty Halloween clown wig.
“Yes!” Silas thrust his fists into the air.
Ford bent forward and ground his backside against Ashton’s front like they were in a club. Ashton’s mouth tightened, and he gave Ford a hard shove. Ford stumbled into the room, unclogging the dam of people behind him—Holden and Blue, along with Cash and Charlie, Maddie, Theo, and…
Liam.
His gaze snagged mine, and I looked away fast—toward Griffin, who had seen it. I gave my husband a smile as if that was totally normal.
We hadn’t talked about his conversation with Liam. But Griffin had been tense ever since.
James blinked at Ford, slow and uncomprehending, like the image wasn’t quite assembling itself.
Ford walked over and looked down at him. “What do you think, Jamsie?” He shimmied his shoulders and pumped his hand under the bottom of his hair to give it a flounce.
James pursed his lips, expression darkening. “I cannot believe you did that right before Sage’s funeral.”
The room grew quiet, the air crackling with discomfort.
Ford stopped, face going pale. “I wasn’t going to show up to the funeral like this,” he said. “I was planning to wear my black cowboy hat. Sage always liked that hat.”
James stared at him.
“She did,” Heidi said in a hush. “She thought you looked so handsome in that hat, Ford, because it brought out the resemblance between you and James.”
Ford nodded and smiled.
James always wears a cowboy hat, Griffin mouthed to me.
I pressed a hand to my heart.
James’s expression softened. Then he huffed out a short laugh and almost smiled. “She did love your hat. But she would’ve loved…” He waved a hand at Ford’s hair. “This even more.”
The entire room let out a light, relieved laugh.
Griffin handed the clippers to Ford.
Ford knelt in front of James and held out the clippers in both hands, offering them like a knight presenting his sword for blessing. “Since she isn’t here to do it, would you?”
James stared at his offering, his eyes filling again.
Sophie slid into place next to me, hooked her arm around mine, and whispered, “Sage was the Dupree family hairstylist. She took cosmetology classes in high school.”
Ahh.
James wiped his eyes and nodded. “I would be honored.”
“Get those phones ready,” Ford said.
Phones surfaced like drawn weapons, and just like that, the cocoon I’d been wrapped in—hidden in the middle of nowhere, swallowed up by this massive, protective family—ripped straight down the seam.
“What’s going on?” I asked Maddie, who was now sitting on the other side of Sophie.
She pulled up Instagram. “We’re filming so Ford can post it on Instagram and TikTok. His publicist’s exact words were, ‘If he’s going to look like a buffoon, we’re monetizing it.’”
That was all well and good, but I was sitting closest to James and would likely end up in the picture.
I smiled at Maddie and Sophie. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry.” Sophie smiled. “You don’t want to miss this.”
She was right. I didn’t. I just needed to readjust my position in the room.
So I hopped up, strode past the group, and hurried down the hall—and for once, I didn’t stop to study the decades worth of family pictures. I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Hands pressed into the marble countertop, I forced myself to breathe.
“Hold up, James.” I heard Griffin calling from the great room. “Jules? Where’d she go?”
“Bathroom,” Sophie’s voice was muffled. “She’ll be here in a minute.”
I counted to fifteen, including Mississippis, then I opened the door.
And walked straight into Liam.
“Oh, sorry,” I said.