42. Lyla
Chapter forty-two
Lyla
I had never been around a table with so many family members. It was loud, but it was a good kind of noise, consisting of laughter, excited chatter, and jokes that didn’t seem to end. A beautiful energy flowed through the meal, making me feel like I had been here before.
“Now make sure when the apple pie comes around, Lyla, you get a piece before Drew does. He always takes the one with the most caramel sauce,” Mrs. Scott said from her seat across from me.
Everything about that description made my mouth water. I wasn’t expecting to have room after my two full plates of food, but the dessert offer forced my stomach to expand. Thank God I didn’t arrive in standing-only pants.
“Rightfully so!” Drew argued. “If Lyla is part of the family table, she has to fight like everyone else.”
Everyone laughed when Deacon threw a roll and hit Drew in the middle of his forehead.
Mrs. Scott’s laugh lingered a little longer after the noise dwindled. “Drew must like you. I'd be concerned if he offered you special treatment because you’re a guest.”
“It was a beautiful dinner, Mrs. Scott. Thank you so much for having me.”
She leaned over the table and grabbed my empty plate. The crinkles around her eyes deepened. “Please call me Georgia. ”
I wondered what his family thought of me being here. I wondered how I compared to Cassie.
I shut that shit down. Why did I care?
I knew the answer I was supposed to give. I cared because I wanted Deacon to be happy. So far, everything I planned had fallen into place. Cassie was texting him again, and they were having lunch when we returned to campus. She was curious about how serious we were, and that was a good thing. It was a great thing. Fantastic. Marvelous. Fucking fabulous.
So why did my body toy with me, making me pulse in places I couldn’t tend to every time Deacon put his hands on me? They were simple touches—a tap on my arm, his hand resting on the small of my back, a kiss on my temple. Never in my life had I felt so wound up. I was like one of my mother’s poorly wrapped Christmas presents sitting under the tree. One wrong pull and I’d fall apart.
This was my punishment for ignoring my calendar routine for two months. The last time I had sex was in October, and that was just appalling.
“I’m going to help my dad bring gifts up from the basement,” Deacon whispered in my ear. He shifted so his warm breath was on my neck, sending goosebumps up and down my arms. “Santa comes during dinner, and the kids all open presents while we sit back and have a drink.”
He kissed the top of my head, and I took this as an opportunity to fight Drew off for some pie. I approached the counter and purposely reached across him for a plate.
“Don’t think I was joking about the pie,” he threatened, grabbing the serving spoon from my hand.
“Aren’t you needed for gifts? Are you not one of Santa’s helpers after dinner? ”
“Nah. As the middle child, it isn’t my place to have to volunteer for shit. That falls in the older sibling category.” Drew bumped his arm against mine and scanned the area behind us. “How are you holding up? You guys do the dating thing well. I’ll give you that.”
I snatched the spoon back from him. “ Fine . Believe it or not, I really like your brother. We’re friends. He’s the only guy friend I have, actually.”
“Walk with me.” Drew stuck a plastic fork in his mouth and led us to the living room. He waved me closer like he was about to spill a family secret I wasn’t supposed to be a part of, and his light brown eyes carried the same playfulness as Deacon’s.
I eyed him suspiciously. “What’s up?”
“Well, first, I won’t take offense that you clearly dismissed me being a friend back there.” I opened my mouth to argue, and he held up his hand. “Second, did Deacon tell you about his roommate yet?”
I took a bite of my pie and almost melted into the floor. It was heavenly . “Nathan and Andre?”
“Greg,” Drew spat as if Greg had come in a few moments ago and stolen the rest of the pie. “The guy who was originally on the lease came back and needs his room.”
“What does that have to do with Deacon?”
Drew’s shoulders fell. “So he didn’t tell you. Deacon only stayed with Nathan and Andre because Greg moved in with his girlfriend.”
“First mistake,” I mumbled.
“Right,” Drew added quickly. “But they broke up, and now Deacon’s bedroom is the living room.”
I pictured a tidy Deacon Scott trying to study on the couch while Nathan and Andre played Madden for the forty-fifth time that day. Deacon color-coded his closet. There was no way he’d last an entire semester living in the common area with his sloppy roommates.
I knew the answer, but I decided to ask anyway. “He didn’t tell me, but is there a reason you are?”
“Deacon doesn’t ask for help.” Drew’s cocky grin dug deeper into his cheek. “So I figured I could ask for him. It will benefit both of you. Cassie will lose her mind when she hears Deacon moved in with you, and you can tell your dad that your boyfriend is your new roommate.”
Drew had a point. Aaron Brooks would be beside himself if he found out Deacon was living with me. I never shared my space with anyone, and it would demonstrate a mature relationship shift. But at the same time, what did that mean for our personal lives? Was I signing up for the longest dry spell I’d ever had because I had a fake boyfriend in my bedroom?
I’d have to ask Michelle and Keira if they’d mind having their Monopoly buddy move in down the hall, but I could at least extend the offer to him. Deacon wouldn’t hesitate to give me his bed if the roles reversed. After all, what were best friends for?
Thirty minutes later, Drew asked Deacon in front of the entire family how his living situation was going.
I followed the prompt with an innocent, “What happened to your room?”
Deacon glared at his brother from the couch and told everyone about Greg, the original roommate on the lease. His news update paused the gift-giving process as multiple family members muttered comments.
“Well, that doesn’t sound practical for studying,” his dad noted .
“Or privacy.” Georgia shot me a wink from the recliner, and I choked back a laugh. I knew I liked that woman.
“You guys are always together anyways,” Drew added sweetly. I read right through his sly grin, but the rest of the family hung on his every word. “Couldn’t you just room with Lyla until you figure it out?”
Deacon’s hand grazed my thigh, letting me know he would handle his brother’s probing. “That’s asking a lot—”
I rolled my eyes, playing the role of the annoyed girlfriend who had to repeat herself for the tenth time. “When I found out he wasn’t on the lease, I tried offering that option to him.” I held my composure when Deacon’s eyes shot to mine. “Maybe now you’ll listen to me?”
Deacon pressed his lips together in a firm line, and I dared him to argue why it wasn’t a good idea. A chuckle trickled from his gorgeous mouth as he considered my offer. My futon was one hundred times cleaner than the raggedy couch in their living room.
Deacon draped his arm on the couch behind me as I watched the younger cousins take turns opening gifts, excited about the toys and clothes that followed the ribbons and wrapping paper. Deacon’s grandmother did her best to control the chaos, but eventually, she lost to the excitement spiraling up from the living room floor.
My view was interrupted when Drew placed a shiny red present on my lap.
“You got me a gift?” I asked.
He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “Well, you know—”
Howard intervened, shoving Drew to the side. “Get out of here,” he said through a contagious chuckle. “It’s a little something from Georgia and me. I hope it’s okay! Georgia has this thing where everyone needs something to open on Christmas Eve.”
Suddenly, I couldn’t form words. Not a single vowel and consonant combination came to mind. I stared at the silver bow, my throat getting tighter. “Thank you.”
Howard patted my shoulder and reunited with Georgia on the loveseat across the room. I was happy he didn’t stand over me as I opened it since I was already on the verge of tears.
Deacon nudged me. “Open it, baby.”
I shoved the dramatics aside and pulled at the ribbon. Inside the box was a pack of Starburst, a Dunkin Donuts gift card, and a book with gorgeous character art. I sifted through the contents, and when I realized the book had a fake dating trope, I rolled my eyes at Deacon.
He smiled coyly. “Had nothing to do with it.”
Georgie passed around the bottles of wine as the gift giving shifted to the adults. I poured myself a glass, and when I offered some to Deacon, he waved the bottle away and got up from the couch.
“I’ll be back in a minute. I just need some air.”
After fifteen minutes, I decided to look for him. He had turned left out of the living room, which meant he was in the kitchen, the dining room, or his dad’s office. After checking all three areas, I had no choice but to peek outside. I opened the stubborn sliding door, throwing my weight into it when it got stuck halfway on the track.
“Does that all the time,” Deacon said.
I joined him under the covered deck and stood beside him, leaning against the railing. “What are you doing out here? You’re missing a riveting round of gifts.”
“I just needed a minute,” he murmured .
Snow fell quietly on the undisturbed blanket of white in front of us. There was no wind, and anything louder than a whisper would corrupt the serene sense of solitude the backyard provided. I understood why Deacon was out here. It was peaceful.
“There are times when everyone gets together and laughs, and I feel guilty for being happy because he isn’t here.”
His words punched me in the gut. The memories scattered around the house showed a family of five. Every photo was a moment captured before his entire world completely shattered.
I stroked my thumb against the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, Deacon.”
A small smile curved into his cheek. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s nice to talk about him. Sometimes, people think hearing his name makes me uncomfortable. It’s the opposite, actually. When you talk about people, it reminds you of their existence. It reminds you that they're still here in some way.”
“Still here,” I echoed. “You know, I’ve never thought about heaven before.”
“Never?”
I shrugged. “I guess I’ve never had to. I only have a handful of people in my life that I care about losing. I don’t really remember when my grandma passed away.”
Deacon went quiet for a few seconds, trying to sort through something in his head. I didn’t want to push, but I gently squeezed his hand to let him know I would listen if he wanted me to.
“When it first happened, I felt scared for him,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Our entire life, I’ve done everything first. I’m the oldest, so it’s my job to go through things so they can see how it’s done. I imagined him getting there—” He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I imagined him getting there and being confused. Like he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there yet.”
More punches came to my gut, and my heart sank. “I don’t think it works like that,” I admitted, trying to relieve him of his thoughts.
His mouth quirked up again. “How do you know? What do you picture?”
“For heaven, I picture a place where you can come and go as you please. You want for nothing and can do everything this world doesn’t allow you to. You can travel, visit people, watch over your loved ones, and be present even if they can’t see you. You don’t miss out on life; you just view it from another angle and experience it in a place that is more than we could ever imagine.”
His eyes had a slight gloss as he processed my opinion. “That’s a beautiful way to see it.”
“It has to be, right?” I directed my question to the sky instead of Deacon. “What other reason could there be for someone leaving so young?”
“I hated the world when he passed, and sometimes I still do. I don’t think I ever truly addressed the anger part. You get so caught up in missing someone and mourning them that you forget to feel anger. It’s like I don’t know what to do with it.”
Deacon dragged his hands down his face and shook his head. Before learning about Dominic, I never saw Deacon as someone who held anger or sadness. He was a master at shielding everything he felt from the rest of the world.
“Nothing else seems worthy of tears,” he continued. “Nothing else can compete with the heartache of losing him. It’s like a piece of me is gone, and I’ll never be able to fix the hole it left.”
I hesitated to ask the next question, but I knew talking like this made him feel better. Deacon didn’t have to hide anything from me. He knew my view of him wouldn’t change because of his admissions, just like his didn’t change about me after hearing mine. “Is it hard having a family so involved with church?”
He stared out into the yard. “I don’t know. Maybe sometimes? Some of my family members found peace. I got tired of hearing about how God has a plan. I plan because I know how quickly life can take things from you, and we don’t know how much time we have. But it also makes me feel like—”
He turned, averting his gaze to the sky behind me. He wanted to look at me, but he couldn’t. He was doing everything he could to keep from falling apart.
“If this was the master plan, then maybe God is just a shitty planner. I don’t know. I feel like I’m not supposed to say that. But no one ever knows what to say. No one really has any answers for you. Everyone can speculate, but there’s no way to tell what happens when we move on from here. It just makes me feel helpless, and I get angry all over again.” He blew out an exaggerated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for dumping my problems on you. Kind of puts a damper on the Christmas magic, doesn’t it?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “You know, this amazing person once said something to me that I really needed to hear.” I moved my hands down his shoulders and rested them on his chest. “Whatever you’re carrying—it will never be a problem to me, Deacon. I want you to know that.”
He ran his hands up and down my forearms. Even when pouring his heart out, he was trying to keep me warm. “I still can’t make sense of it. It’s like I woke up one day, and someone told me I couldn’t see my brother anymore. There were no warnings. There was no goodbye or knowing that the last time I saw him would actually be the last time . I have to wait to see my brother again, and when you have someone you’re looking forward to seeing, death doesn’t seem so scary.” He dropped his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and shrugged. “But I’m not supposed to say that out loud, either.”
“Some people would consider that a concerning statement, but I don’t. It’s like looking forward to the next chapter with that person, and you know he’ll be psyched to see you. Even though he’s watching, he’ll need a recap in person.”
He glanced at the sky and then at me with a slight smile. “You know, for someone who doesn’t engage in emotional chit-chat, you’re pretty good at it.”
“It’s not so hard for you,” I admitted, taking his hand again. “Just don’t forget to mention me in the recap. You can’t leave out the best fake relationship you ever had.”
“I could never leave you out, Brooks.”
“We don’t lie, remember?”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, leading us back inside. “We don’t lie.”