Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Grant
The usual drag I experience when driving to my parents’ house on a Friday evening is nowhere to be found tonight.
I’m looking forward to seeing everyone, sure, but I’m mostly anticipating seeing Sam. Having her sit next to me and being able to touch her—to claim her—in front of my family has kept me moving all week.
And no, it’s not as barbaric as it sounds.
We haven’t officially told anyone that we’re together and as serious as I’ve been with someone in terms of intentions, but they all know.
My parents saw us together last weekend with the girls, Finn has heard about it over the fire, and Dec has been along for the ride since day one.
May has, too, for that matter, plus she always has her ear to the ground for gossip.
And Eirinn must know, because Davis met with us about Sam’s order of protection, so he undoubtedly read between those lines.
Only Mac wouldn’t know, but he’ll figure it out whenever he makes his way back.
We shared stolen moments this week—a lunchtime walk around the park enjoying the trees all hinting at blooming, a fifteen-minute coffee date at Corner Coffee, and yes, a few kisses after I put the girls to bed.
I can’t seem to stay away from her for long, and miraculously, she seems to feel the same way.
I haven’t figured out what to do with that part of me so bent on convincing myself I’m doing the wrong thing by being with her because the other half of me is continually grasping for another second with her.
And all of me is in love with her, so there’s no beating it back.
It’s a vivid worry, a splinter driving deeper now, that I don’t have enough to go around.
I barely did before I had the girls, and now I have them, my family, and I’m adding in Sam, too?
Her car is already there when I arrive at my parents’ house.
It’s not quite warm enough to eat on the deck, but in another six or eight weeks we’ll be taking these dinners outside.
My dad loves May and June before it gets too buggy and hot, and he claims eating outside is good for us.
Tonight, though, the usual clatter sounds from inside, and Poppy and Lily burst into the house, for once not upset to be a few minutes late.
“Gram, we brought you flowers!” Poppy runs to my mom in the kitchen at the same time Lily finds Sam, holding out a bouquet for her.
“We got you flowers, too, Sam! Dad said you finished a class or something? Good job!” She grins wide, smashes the bouquet between them when she squeezes Sam hard, then runs off to receive her orders about setting the table, which of course my parents have saved for her.
Sam shoots me a smile.
“Oh, I didn’t realize we were all the way there.” May nudges me with her elbow and clasps her hands under her chin. “Does she know?”
My eyes narrow. “Know what?”
But as soon as I ask it, I know I shouldn’t have played into her little game, because she isn’t scared of saying it aloud like I am.
“That you’re in love with her, dork.” She gives me a glare like I’m a rude customer in her shop and not her oldest and best brother.
“Shh!” Dipping my head, I speak quietly and hope Sam’s focused on whatever story Finn’s telling her and Davis. “Don’t want to spook her after what she’s gone through.”
Don’t make her choose.
May blanches, then nods. “Right. Sorry.” She points at her head. “Sometimes I get ahead of myself.”
This reminds me too much of teen May, so I nudge her back. “Nah. You’re alright. Just don’t blow it for me, huh? I’m way out of my league here.”
She gives me her wide, classic May grin, and I know we’re past that rough spot we stumbled into. I’ll be thinking about this later, wondering if she’s struggling again, but I can’t pester her about it now or she’ll shut down.
“I’d never.” She winks, then scuttles off to the kitchen and I hear squealing from the girls at her arrival.
“How’s it going?” Dec offers me a beer, then taps the neck of his bottle to mine.
It’s such a Declan gesture. Even amongst family, he’s never going to be the loud one or demanding of attention, but he’s always tuned into us.
He’s also persistently well-mannered, courteous, and thoughtful.
Sometimes, I think we take it for granted because he’s always been like this, but I need to figure out how to let him know how good he is.
“Better than I could’ve imagined.” I’m at the point where I have no desire to play it cool. I’m not writing my feelings in the sky or anything, but I’m more than happy for my family to know I’m fully on board with where Sam and I are headed. And yet…
Dec’s smile is pleased. “Congrats. You deserve it. You both do.”
That old reflex to give him something and see what he comes up with hits. “It’s good. But I don’t want to push her.”
His eyes track between mine for a beat. “It’s okay to want something with her.”
I swallow hard. “I know. But—” I clear my throat, not wanting to feel anything but happy right now. I don’t want the pinch at my shoulders or the worry trying to rise in my throat. “I have one shot at this with her, and if I push, and it’s too soon, then…”
He shakes his head. “Ease up on all of that.”
He doesn’t have the answers, but I appreciate him giving me something. I know I should stop that spiraling warning in my mind. At least some of it is my old pattern of thinking rearing its head.
“Thanks,” I croak, and resolve not to let myself stay there tonight.
Our attention settles on Sam. She’s sitting in the living room chatting with Finn and Davis. Eirinn enters the room from down the far hallway that leads to most of the bedrooms and the stairs to the basement and second floor. She bends and says something to Davis.
He stiffens, then turns.
It’s then I notice Eirinn’s eyes are red-rimmed.
“What’s going on there?” My voice stays low so I don’t draw attention to them.
“Not sure.”
I glance at him, then back to the living room where Davis is making excuses and he and Eirinn disappear down the hallway. Eirinn’s deflated, and Davis’s spine is probably the straightest I’ve ever seen.
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to.”
Our eyes meet, and I accept the note. Not every problem is mine to solve.
“I know.” It’s a grumble and amusing enough it makes Dec huff a laugh.
I nudge him with an elbow. “What about you? What’s going on in your world?” I’d love for him to open up a little. Let me in after I just cracked the door for him.
“I had four four-year-old well-child check-ups this week.”
The look he gives me is of a man who’s been traveling for months in the wilderness and has somehow survived.
It cracks me wide open, because I know exactly why he appears more traumatized now than when he did any of his training in medical school and likely most of the things he saw as a military doc.
Poppy turned four over the summer and hers was one of the first four-year-old well-child appointments he had.
Poppy was so happy to have her uncle for her doctor, but when she found out she had to have vaccinations, she was utterly betrayed, and I hate to say it, but I think Dec might’ve felt equally betrayed that I brought her to him instead of Dr. Martinez for that appointment.
“Any of them take the shots okay?” I’m deeply relieved I don’t face another big round of required vaccines for either of the girls until eleven. A yearly flu is manageable, especially if Nurse Kyle or Nurse Janet are the ones doing it.
We now know not to request Doctor Dec be the one to administer their vaccines.
As he remembers the battles he’s fought this week, his eyes close. “One did okay. Evie brought me lunch after one, and then she suggested I go for a run after a particularly bad one. That helped.”
I eye him. He’s still got his eyes closed, but now that he’s mentioned his front desk receptionist, the tension in his face has eased.
“Evie did? Smart woman.”
“She’s brilliant.”
“Clearly.” And just as transparent is his interest in her.
But if I say a word about it, he’ll fold up tight and tuck himself away.
So I say nothing instead of And when will you ask her out?
Or At what point will you let yourself try with her?
Or What would you say if I told you I think you should let yourself be happy?
The eerie thing is, all of those could’ve been said about me regarding Sam a few months ago. Or honestly, even now. I’m letting it happen but I’m also struggling with it on some level.
Because… what if? What if I’m not right for her? What if this hounding sense I’ve got too much to make up for won’t ever ease, I can’t give her what she deserves, and I fail her?
When it’s time for dinner, I intercept Sam and draw her to my side, relishing a quick hug and shared heartbeat before we sit. How long has it been since we were alone together? Why does it feel like there’s never enough time before we’re parted again?
As we settle in and begin dishing up food, I indulge in the privilege of leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, then send her a wink when she looks at me askance. Gratitude fills me even as those worries swarm me. Because she doesn’t seem to have the same ones.
After my dad says the blessing for the food and company, everyone bursts into conversation and my joy doubles. There’s just the one empty seat for Mac, and I’m newly determined to pin him down and get some real answers from him.
I slide a hand to Sam’s thigh and squeeze lightly after she shares about the class she just finished and her excitement over getting more involved in volunteering with the library.
Everything’s pretty subtle and pleasant, right up until Lily scrambles over to the table and announces, “Dad and Sam had a sleepover and they’re in love!”
As though choreographed, everyone freezes, all eyes swing to me and Sam, and I see the deepening blush on her lovely face the instant I turn to her. It’s horribly still for a beat, dread fills me at how she’ll respond, and then all at once yet again, she beams and the room erupts.