Chapter 39
CONNOR
Julia’s fingers work the tie around my neck into a knot, her eyes moving to the band around my finger as I smooth the front of it when she’s finished.
The smooth black fabric of her dress hugs every plush, delicious curve of her body.
The top half of her hair is pulled up and tied together in an explosion of long curls.
The burgundy painted across her lips matches the silk of Tripp’s tie, the color of which makes his eyes burst with color, but when I told him that an hour ago, he shut me down with a gruff ‘I don’t have eyes. ’
“T-minus five if we wanna meet them,” he calls through the guesthouse that we’ve rented for the weekend.
Jules studies me with angel-soft features, her lips melting into warmth as she secures a clip at the edge of my tie.
“This is like a proud dad moment for you, isn’t it?” She asks. “The little girl you raised is out in the world doing big-girl things.”
“It’ll be different when it’s my kids,” I tell her with a shake of my head.
Her brow ticks, surprise pulling her lips into a smile which she bites away, and my throat clears.
“What I mean to say is, I just think about all of the things that I didn’t think she’d have, growing up with me, and how happy I am that she’s proven me so wrong. ”
Her lips part, ready for words to fall out of them, but she’s stopped by Tripp crossing the threshold, leaning his body against the door frame with his arms crossing over his chest.
“If we’re about to leave for this girl’s graduation and you’re still fucking talking about how bad you messed her up—”
“Yeah, I know, you’ll break my nose,” I laugh.
I let my eyes roam the length of his body, his black button-up and slacks a contrast to my white-and-grey ensemble, and his Chucks a contrast to my loafers.
The eyes that I’m not supposed to comment on are brighter these days.
He’s onto a lower dosage patch now, and a few days ago, he willingly went through his stashes of ‘emergency cigarettes,’ whatever that means, and threw them in the trash.
I emptied out the cans as soon as he turned his back, just in case.
“Let’s go,” Julia says with an excited pat to my chest. “I want to see her before she walks the stage.”
‘Congratulations’ banners and decorative caps hang from a bunting draped across the port which covers the driveway.
Accompanying them on the front lawn are picks stuck into the ground to signify the graduating class, and hung on the railing outside of the front door sits a sign which reads ‘party inside!’
I huff a laugh at the gaudiness of it all, because it’s so unlike my sister. Irina doesn’t decorate. She doesn’t host. She’s a very giving person, but she doesn’t love having people in her space unless she’s close with them; and she’s hosting an after party for her friends tonight.
A knock on the door opens to Grady who, to my surprise, is dressed in a full suit. A man of few words, he greets us with a nod, using his head to gesture into the house.
“She’s almost ready,” he tells us.
“Connie!”
Following the demanding shout, I trek toward the back of the house and into the bedroom, where my sister is standing before a tall mirror and fussing with the back of a navy blue dress that sits just above her kneecaps.
“Tie me,” she orders, shimmying her shoulders to bring attention to the thick bands of ribbon at her back.
My eyes move between my task and my sister’s reflection in the mirror while I work to tie the bands into a bow, the same one that I used to tie into her shoes and on her dresses when she was little, and the corner of my mouth pulls up.
As the ribbon finally takes shape into something resembling a poofy butterfly, we catch each others’ gaze in our reflection and I offer a shake of my head, warmth flooding my chest.
“If you ever get married, I’m completely screwed,” I tell her with a chuckle to force away the tightness building in my throat.
My hands grip onto her shoulders as she slips her feet into the rhinestone-lined shoes waiting for her.
“I would,” she tells me with a gesture out of the room.
“If he asked, I would say yes.” A laugh forces itself out of her as she secures the final strap around her ankle.
“But then you’d have to be my brother of honor, and you’d have to be in front of a crowd and make a speech, and I don’t want to deal with that. ”
I follow as she floats effortlessly out of the room, offering a last-second adjustment to my tie before all of us pack ourselves into the waiting SUV. I sandwich myself between Irina and her boyfriend, because what kind of brother would I be if I didn’t mess with her at least a little bit?
We’re separated as soon as we reach the campus, the four of us going to find our seats while the graduates gown up and get ready for their ceremony; and my nerves are on fire the entire time.
It’s at least an hour of speeches and last names being called which don’t start with S before the name we’re waiting for is called. When it is, I can’t help but to shoot to my feet, hooting and hollering across the auditorium.
“Yes!” I shout, slapping my hands together. “That’s my sister!”
I don’t care that it’s rude. I don’t care that I can see her mortification from here to the small stage. I don’t care.
None of the people here know what she went through to get to this point, to be walking across that stage with her hard-earned diploma in hand and a dream of helping someone else the way that her counselors helped her.
And not a single one of these people matter at all to me, because she did it.
Julia’s hand wraps itself around my forearm with a laugh as she pulls me back into my seat, and as I settle, I look toward the ceiling with my eyes blurring behind a wall of salt. My fingertips press against my lips and I send them upward.
You would be so damn proud of her.
Sitting through the rest of the ceremony feels almost more impossible than it was to sit through the first portion and wait to hear her name being called.
My eyes burn as the sea of graduates reach for their tassels to swipe them across the tops of their caps, and I hope she can hear our dad cheering on his ‘Curly Sue’ as loudly as I can; even if she doesn’t remember what his voice sounded like.
The reception area is a mess as everyone filters into it, but I push through the crowd, temporarily leaving behind Tripp, Jules, and Grady in search of my sister.
“You are beyond embarrassing,” she calls out when I finally catch sight of her.
In spite of her scolding, a wide grin spreads across her face, her body slamming into mine as we wrap each other in a tight hug.
“We’ll have to do this all over again in two years,” she reminds me, and I press a hard kiss to the top of her head.
“I’ll be here,” I promise her. “We’ll all be here.”
Julia already has her cell phone’s camera pulled up by the time that the three of them reach us. We spend at least ten minutes taking a number of different photos, more than we’ll ever be able to do anything with, before we finally start the long trek out of the building and off of campus.
There are already several cars lined up in front of their house when we stop to drop them off. I’m not sure why that makes me feel so proud, too, but it does.
We’re not back inside our rental for more than twenty seconds before Tripp is half naked and kicking off his shoes.
Mine follow after, resting neatly next to them.
I’m more careful with my clothes, though, choosing to drape my jacket over the arm of the pillowed sofa in the common room rather than tossing it onto the floor where someone’s oxford now sits.
After changing into comfortable clothing of her own, Julia cooks us dinner – and by that, I mean that she throws three TV dinners into the microwave and Tripp and I pull them out when they’re finished, because she’s afraid she’ll burn her hands.
While we eat, my hand finds its way to my chest to press into the space above my heart.
Steady.
I don’t remember the last time there was a steady beat in my chest. Before my parents died, maybe.
It’s nice. It’s…quiet.
As our evening winds down and we ready ourselves to pack into the full-sized bed together, I offer a glance to the small grey device attached to the wall, my fingers flexing with the need to inspect. I shove the thought away, offering a smile to answer Tripp’s concerned expression.
“You can,” he tells me quietly, but I wave away his offer.
“No.” I throw one more glance to the device before looking back to him. “I need to…try not to. We’re okay.”
His hand finds its way to my hair to muss the strands that Julia spent too long neatly styling into place this afternoon.
Light from the bedroom dims as the decorative lamp on Julia’s side of the bed is clicked off, leaving us bathed in a soft glow from the remaining light on the opposite side of the bed.
The corner of Tripp’s mouth pulls up, challenge meeting his eyes as he flicks them toward the open door ahead of us and back to me.
“I call middle, then,” he says.
Like a bolt, he shoots ahead of me before I can grab him.
His launch onto the mattress is announced by a thunk of its frame and a squealing giggle that rockets out of our wife’s chest. They’re barely settled when I finally step into the room, their bodies curling together, ignoring the bedding now balled at their feet.
Climbing into bed with them, I offer a squeeze to Julia’s hip before sliding my arm between their bodies, wrapping it tightly around Tripp’s chest.
I’m warm.
With them, I’m always warm.