Chapter 10 #2
Liam never confused her growing up. He was her safe place.
Always there for her. Always steady. She would have bet her life she could have predicted his every move.
Then after the funeral, he disappeared, and now, now she didn’t know who he was.
But today, today had been the old Liam. The one who picked her up on his motorcycle every night at ten o’clock the summer before he left for Stanford when she was fourteen and got into the fall art program at Academy of Art University because he didn’t want her taking the buses alone that late.
He was the guy who found out Tristan and Niko had destroyed her science project when she was in sixth grade and stayed up all night to fix it, so she never even knew it happened.
She found out four years ago because Tristan thought Liam had told her, so he mentioned it, Liam never said a word.
He was the guy who found her sleeping in the grass outside the cottage when she was seven because her mom had manic spells and would drink, and he told her that she could sleep in his room and he’d sleep in another room, but she was too scared, so he slept on his floor, and let her sleep in his bed that night.
And every night after that night, whenever she climbed in his window, he would just roll out of bed and sleep on the floor.
Was that this Liam? But why would that Liam not speak to her for a decade?
“Why? You don’t even know Yaya? She’s not your grandma, not your family.”
“I know you.” His eyes changed, they turned serious. “You are my family.”
Right. She was going to be his sister-in-law. Or so he thought. Now she really felt bad for not telling him. But if she did, she knew he would be furious at Tristan. She had to make this right.
“How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Liam, just tell me how much it was.”
“No.”
“Why are you being like this?” Her hands flew up. “You can’t do all this, it’s too much!”
“Dinner!” Yaya yelled.
“You don’t have to stay. I can tell her you have to work.”
“I will choose a home-cooked meal over sleep any day.” He kissed her on her head then walked into the kitchen to wash his hands. Lucy trotted after him.
Frankie reached up and pressed her fingers to the crown of her head. She had tingles where his lips had touched. She licked her own lips, wishing she actually remembered the kiss that Liam insisted was not harassment as questions scrolled through her mind like credits at the end of a movie.
Why was everything with Liam so complicated?
Why did he have to have the most beautiful green eyes?
Why did he have to be her favorite human to just spend time with and be the person she happened to be most attracted to on this planet?
It would be so much easier if he were an asshole and/or ugly.
Yaya set the steaming casserole dish on the table with the satisfaction of a master chef, beckoning them over with a flourish of her tiny hands.
Frankie trailed into the kitchen and after washing her hands flopped into her chair.
Liam, ever the gentleman, helped Yaya into her seat before easing down in the creaky wooden chair opposite her.
Yaya did the honors, slicing into the pastitsio with a practiced wrist. “Big piece for a big strong doctor,” she announced, heaping a hearty portion on his plate.
Without a word, Liam accepted the generous helping.
He thanked her, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a rare show of amusement as Yaya added another scoop “for good luck.”
His response was to take a healthy bite and tell her how absolutely delicious it was.
He put on a show, remarking on how good the noodles and béchamel were—somehow simultaneously light and heavy.
Frankie got her own more than generous serving.
There was something about Yaya’s food that always made the world slow down, as if every bite held a piece of her history.
She sat back quietly and observed as Liam asked her grandma, between bites, about her childhood in Greece.
She launched into a story about sneaking figs from the neighbor’s tree and outrunning a pack of angry goats.
She created quite vivid images of young Yaya as a barefoot terror, her skinny legs and knobby knees dusted with dirt, a cloud of siblings and cousins screaming in her wake.
She pantomimed the chase, and Liam listened intently.
By the time she finished describing how she and her cousins were hiding down on the dock in a pile of fish, all plugging their noses and gagging while trying to be quiet, she and Liam were laughing—full-bodied and loud, just like they used to laugh as kids.
Then, the conversation shifted when he asked her the story of meeting Frankie’s grandfather. Yaya’s eyes grew misty as she spoke of Papou. “He was so handsome. Just like you, handsome Dr. Liam,” she said, patting his hand and then winking at Frankie. “But you, Francesca, you are too skinny. Eat!”
Frankie sighed but complied, sneaking extra bits of bread to Lucy under the table.
She regaled them with a romantic story of how neither of their parents approved because they were too young, but they were so in love they ran away together and got married. And they never looked back. Tears sprang to her eyes as she said they had sixty-eight years of happy marriage.
Liam reached across the table and told her he was sorry for her loss.
Yaya shook her head. “Oh, no! Why sorry? I have a beautiful love with a beautiful man for many, many beautiful years. Not like this one!” She motioned to Frankie.
Frankie felt Liam’s eyes boring into her cheek as she tried to communicate via telepathy to Yaya not to mention Tristan putting his penis in other women. Thankfully, Yaya moved on.
She did the sign of the cross and kissed the ashes she kept of Papou in a cross around her neck. “And now, now he sends me Arthur, so I won’t be lonely.”
“You think Papou sent you Arthur?” Frankie asked her grandma.
That was the first she was hearing about it.
“Of course.” Her hands flew in the air. “Of course he did, or why would I entertain him?”
Frankie looked at Liam and then back at Yaya. “How do you know he sent him?”
Yaya’s lips curled at the edges in a secret smile, and she shook her head. “No, no, no, some things keep only for yourself. Okay, dinner done.” She slapped her hands on the table.
Why did she think Papou sent Arthur to her? Frankie thought as she stood and cleared the table. It was going to drive her crazy, and she had a feeling Yaya knew that.
Liam and Frankie made quick work of cleaning the kitchen, despite Frankie repeatedly saying she could handle it on her own, every movement orchestrated by Yaya’s brisk commands.
She tried to give Liam an out, explaining to Yaya that he had to go to work, but he refused to take it. He just kept saying he had time.
When the kitchen was to Yaya’s standards, spotless, they all transitioned seamlessly into the living room, where the TV hummed softly with the opening credits of a B-list dating show.
Yaya declared it “educational” and insisted he and Frankie watch from the couch.
Frankie sank into her usual corner, knees tucked beneath her.
Liam sat beside her, hands resting casually on his thighs.
Lucy hopped up, did three circles, and plopped down between them.
Garfield, feeling braver than he had during dinner, walked along the back of the couch, sniffing the air that had scents from the alien being named Lucy.
Frankie reached down to pet Lucy as Liam reached up and petted Garfield.
It was strange, but having Liam at her Yaya’s house felt so…
natural. In all the time she’d been engaged to Tristan, he’d never visited Hope Falls.
She’d talked about wanting to come out, and he’d always made it clear he would stay at his dad’s in San Francisco when they were in California.
When her grandparents were in New York, he never spent time with them.
Yes, he was building a law firm, but still.
Liam had talked to Yaya more over dinner than Tristan had over all the times they’d come out to visit.
Not that she should be comparing, but…
Frankie tuned back in to the show, where an absurd—overdressed woman was squabbling over a man who looked like a discount department store mannequin. Yaya watched with rapt attention.
“This one, she’s trouble,” Yaya declared, wagging a finger at the screen. “See the shoes. Only bad girls wear shoes like that.”
Frankie spun towards her. “Yaya, you bought me those shoes to wear for cousin Angelo’s wedding.”
Yaya shrugged. “Yes, I know this, I wanted you to be more of a bad girl. You’re too, what is they say goody two…”
“Goody two-shoes,” Frankie and Liam chorused.
“Yes! See the shoes! Goody two-shoes! I get you bad girl shoes.”
“That’s not…never mind.” Frankie shook her head as Liam’s phone alarm went off.
She knew what it meant. He had to go. Even though she’d been giving him outs all night, now that the time had come, her stomach dropped. She didn’t want him to leave. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a flash of disappointment across his face before he masked it once again.
“I have to go.” Liam stood. “Thank you again for dinner.”
He bent down and kissed Yaya on each cheek. She patted him on the face and made him promise to stop by and see her.
He picked Lucy up, and Frankie walked him out onto the porch.
He made it one step before he stopped and turned back around.
She stared up at him, neither saying a word.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.
For a brief, glorious, potentially delusional second, Frankie thought he was going to kiss her.
“Are you busy tomorrow?” he asked, popping her delusion bubble.
“No, why?”
“Theres are some people I want you to meet. Pick you up at ten?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He leaned down, kissed her on the top of the head, turned around, climbed in his SUV, and drove away.
As she watched his taillights disappear, she knew she was in trouble.
Big trouble. She used to have a crush on Liam Sterling.
She feared that after hiking to a waterfall, coming home to discover he’d Mission Impossibled Yaya’s house, and watching him with Yaya at dinner, she was head over heels, swept off her feet, hopelessly, crazily, madly in love with Dr. Liam Davies.
And he was kissing her on the head like she was his little sister, because that’s what she was to him. Forget the friend zone, this was worse. She was in the little sister zone.