Chapter 55
Cecily
The best thing about mornings is that for that brief second when I first open my eyes, my grandma is still alive.
The worst thing about mornings is that the following second, I have to tell myself Grandma is gone.
It has been three days. Three mornings of forgetting and remembering, and I don't know if it will be like this forever, but I hope not. The bright spot in all of this is Dom.
Dom in my bed when I wake up.
Dom in my kitchen, pouring me coffee, preparing it the way I like it, with just the right amount of cream.
Dom washing the dishes from dinner.
He holds me close, and he calls me Menace because he knows it makes me smile.
"Do you want to meet for lunch today?" he asks. He's standing shirtless in my bathroom, brushing his teeth as I coax my hair into a ponytail.
I'm returning to work today. A week earlier than planned, and Paisley told me to take all the time I need. But what I need is to bury myself in work, in clients, in content creation and marketing plans. My brain needs the exercise, my heart needs the distraction.
"I was supposed to go to lunch with Paisley and Paloma to our favorite place, but I can cancel." I finish tying the elastic around my hair.
Dom spits into the sink and rinses his mouth, shaking his head the whole time. "Don't cancel. I'll see if Klein is free. We need to discuss his book. That'll make it a work lunch, and I can use the company card."
Stepping behind him, I splay my fingers on his stomach and glide them up over his chest. I can't get enough of him. How can I be heartbroken and falling in love at the same time?
Because you're already in love. The thought comes to me, clear as day and in my grandmother's voice.
I press a kiss between Dom's shoulder blades. "I can't wait to hear about the potential sites for the new office." Dom has three appointments today to see office spaces, all within fifteen minutes of the heart of Scottsdale. "Dinner?"
Dom turns around, leaning back against the counter. "My parents were hoping to get dinner tonight." He pauses, gazing at me in a way that's hard to name. Reluctant? Bashful? Apprehensive. "With both of us. I told them everything. Mostly, anyway. They're looking forward to meeting you."
I step in closer, running my hand up and down his arm. "I can't wait to meet your parents, Dom."
Relief loosens the set of his eyebrows. "They're going to love you."
"And I will love the people responsible for creating you." I rise on tiptoe, brushing a mint-flavored kiss over Dom's lips. He deepens the kiss, leaving me wishing I'd taken Paisley up on her offer to take more time off.
Dom drives me to work in the Jeep he pretends not to mind but I know he still hates. One of many items on his moving checklist is buying himself a vehicle. It'll be his first time owning a car, and I can tell he's excited at the prospect, immersing himself in safety ratings and such.
Dom pulls up to the curb in front of P Squared Marketing. Paisley and Paloma are already there, unlocking the front door. Paisley carries two coffees, one of which I know is for me because Paloma's already holding one. They offer a wave and hustle inside.
"See you for dinner." I lean over to kiss Dom goodbye.
"And I'm having you for dessert," he growls, the rumble running the length of my spine.
Away from the parameters set by a meticulously planned road trip, Dom and I have been insatiable.
The stolen moments in the RV, against the boulder, and the elevator were great, but this is even better.
Last night it started when I placed my feet in his lap while he was reading a book.
Two days ago, it was me bending over in the kitchen searching for the right container to store leftovers.
Dom waits for me to step through the front door of the office before pulling away from the curb.
Paisley and Paloma might've gone inside, but they didn't go far. Waiting just inside the door for me, I'm hardly inside the building before they pounce.
"Wife'd." Paloma jams a bright pink fingernail my direction.
"It's nice to see you, too." I look at Paisley. "What is she talking about?"
Paisley shrugs and hands me the second coffee she carries. "How should I know? I only keep her around because she has a nice rack."
Paloma sticks out her chest and bounces.
The performance ends and she holds up two fingers.
"Two things. First, we are sorry for your loss.
You thought you would have more time with your grandma, and you didn't, and that sucks.
" She pauses, letting me speak if I want to.
When I don't say anything, she continues.
"Second, you have domesticity written on your forehead.
" Using the tip of one nail, she draws a line across my forehead.
I bat her away. "No, I do not. Am I allowed to go to my office now?"
Paisley beams. "Dom told Klein you're not getting an annulment."
"That's correct." I want to stand on the roof and shout it through a megaphone. I want to wear a stupid hat that says Mrs. I want to do all the things I always thought were ridiculous, but I simply don't know how to hold space for all of that effervescent happiness and my grief at the same time.
Paisley grabs my hand. "When you're ready, we can't wait to celebrate you. I'm thinking a night on the town. We'll dance until we're sweaty."
I raise my eyebrows at her. "You do realize that's how I ended up married?"
She laughs. "Good point."
For the next few hours, I immerse myself in catching up. It isn't until Paisley sticks her head in my office that I realize it's well past lunchtime.
"I'm starving," she says, rubbing her stomach.
Being late for lunch has its perks. The restaurant that is usually packed midday is only half full. We snag a seat on the covered patio. Water flows through the canal between us and the buildings we've just walked from. The sunshine is warm, but not yet hot.
Pressing my toes into a pocket of sunlight beside our table, I say, "It's hard to believe I was stuck in a snowstorm less than a week ago."
Paisley and Paloma stare at me. "What?"
"The RV we rode around in got stuck on the side of the road. It was crazy. This cowboy showed up to help pull us out." I'll have to ask Kerrigan if she's heard from him.
Paloma throws up her hands. "Why is it never me who gets rescued by a cowboy? It's always someone else."
Paisley side-eyes her. "How many other people do you know who have been rescued by cowboys?"
Paloma pointedly ignores her. "Tell us more stories, Cecily."
Paisley and I share a silent laugh before I launch into everything I remember about the trip.
We're dunking focaccia in pesto when my dad calls. Startled by the name flashing on the screen, I stare at it for a full three seconds before saying, "I should answer this."
"Dad, hi." I get up from the table, walking around the corner of the patio until I'm on the sidewalk. I don't need privacy for the conversation, but I have the urge to pace.
"Cecily. How are you?"
Why does he sound that way? Softer. Like he cares.
"Unbelievably sad," I answer honestly. "How about you?"
"Like I can't see or talk to the person I used to be able to see or talk to anytime of day."
The answer is so honest, so raw, and it takes me aback. Have I ever heard my dad talk like this? No.
"I was wondering if you would like to help me plan Grandma's memorial? Kerrigan and Duke were close to her, but you and Grandma had a unique relationship." He falters. "She was there for you when your mother and I were..."
My breath hangs in my throat as I wait for him to finish his sentence. I can't imagine how he's going to end it.
He sighs, then finally says, "When we were assholes."
That one word does not capture the depth and breadth of what it felt like to grow up in his household, but it's a start. A small turn on the pressure valve.
We have a lot to work through, and who knows how long it will take, but it all starts with a single step. The ball is in your court, I hear my grandma say.
I tell my dad I will help him, and we make plans to meet at my grandma's house tomorrow when I'm done with work. I hang up and return to the table. Our lunches have arrived, along with three flutes of champagne.
"What's with the bubbly?" I ask, taking my seat.
"No particular reason," Paisley answers. "Just wanted to celebrate the fact that you exist. I missed you."
Tears spring to my eyes, and I am mortified.
Paloma smacks Paisley's arm. "You made her cry."
"Happy tears," I clarify, picking up my glass. "My dad asked me to help plan my grandma's memorial. That probably doesn't seem like a big deal to you, but it is. He's..." I search for the words, but I cannot find them. "He's..."
Paisley smiles kindly. She picks up her own glass. "I get it. My dad is something indescribable, too." She extends her glass to the middle of the table. "To daddy issues."
I clink. "To daddy issues."
Paloma hangs back with her drink in hand. "I can't cheers to that. I don't have daddy issues."
Paisley and I dissolve into laughter. "You bitch," Paisley says before taking a big sip.
It feels so good to laugh with these women.
"You ready?" Dom asks, sliding my Jeep into Park.
"We're not walking to the gallows," I gently remind him, slipping my hand into his as we walk to the restaurant.
Dom chose a place that has outdoor seating and yard games, to give us something to do aside from making conversation.
A man and woman wait outside the restaurant door for us, and based on the way their eyes light up when they see us, I'm guessing it's Dom's parents.
"Domino!" the man yells, starting for us.
"Well, that is unbelievably cute," I murmur.
"Forget you heard it," Dom whispers.
"Never," I whisper back, letting go of Dom's hand to introduce myself.
Dom has his dad's infectious smile, and his mom's straight nose. They are both warm, eschewing my offered hand for hugs.
Later, when we're playing shuffleboard, Dom's mom thanks me for bringing her boy home. "I'd feared he'd meet someone and stay in New York City forever." Then she chucks my chin and I most definitely fall in love with her.
We go to a nearby place for gelato, and Dom's dad, with a mouthful of pistachio, asks, "Did Dom tell you I had a brush with the law?"
I clear my throat, trying to swallow down my lemon and white chocolate flavor. "Um, yeah. He did. How'd that work out for you?"
He shrugs. "About as well as it could have, I suppose."
"Does that mean it's over?" Dom asks, voice strained.
"Yeah," Ron nods, cinnamon hair bouncing on his forehead. "That slippery asshole got caught in another town doing the same thing. My name is clear again." He winks at me.
I bite back a smile. Dom's dad is a bit like a naughty child who knows he's a rascal but means well.
Before we leave there are hugs all around, and a promise to see one another soon.
"Thank you," Dom says, brushing a kiss over my knuckles as he drives my Jeep away.
My hand settles on his thigh. "After you spent all that time with my family, I'd say I have at least thirty more interactions with your parents before we're even."
Dom's shaking his head. "That's not how I operate. There's no tallying with me. We'll do what we can to make one another's lives better without keeping score."
At the next red light, I lean over and kiss him. "That sounds like everything I never knew to ask for."