30. Holden
Chapter Thirty
Holden
“Holden?” Shelley’s voice comes over the intercom. “You have an add-on appointment in about five minutes.”
I take a deep breath before I respond because I don’t want Shelley to hear the disappointment in my voice.
“All right. Who is it with?”
“Okay, this is going to sound weird, but I can’t tell you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I can’t tell you. I pinky promised.”
“Shelley, what the heck is going on out there?” I ask. I can’t help but chuckle.
“Sir, I was told a pinky promise is the worst kind of promise to break. So, bear with me, and your appointment will be back shortly.”
“All right. Fine.”
I slip my backpack off my back and set it on my desk, then slump into my chair.
This ought to be good.
I’m tired today, and all I want to do is go home and have a nap before my brothers come over.
I know that I’ve done this to myself. Staying up through most of the night a couple days ago threw my sleep pattern off, and I haven’t been able to adjust since.
Still, I’d do it all over again since it’s the first real conversation Lizette and I have had since she moved here.
I’m struggling to reconcile the Lizette I’m getting to know again now with the one I remember in such vivid detail from the end of that school semester all those years ago.
Now, she reminds me more of Lizette from the library.
And with the benefit of maturity on my side, I can look at the end of us and think that maybe there’s more to what happened than I’m aware of.
Yet I can’t figure out what it is. Anytime the subject of our college years even remotely comes up, Lizette looks notably uncomfortable and changes the subject.
Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about something that makes her feel bad.
I don’t know.
I don’t want her to feel bad about the past. I genuinely want her to be happy, to have everything she dreams of.
I think I always did. I never believed that ending our relationship and resuming one with Landon Carter was what she wanted.
I knew her face, her eyes, from our hours between the stacks, and she didn’t look happy or at ease whenever I saw her with him.
Plus, I’m not innocent either. I’m so ashamed to admit it, but I can’t deny that letting her see me with someone else was, at least partially, because I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. I suspect I thought it would make her come to her senses about us. What a dumbass I was.
A heartbroken dumbass, but still a dumbass.
I lean my head back on the headrest and stare up at the ceiling. I’m lost in thought when someone clearing their throat brings me back. I look up, and it’s my nieces.
With a tote bag she’s carrying as if it’s a briefcase in one hand and her other hand grasping Lena’s, Layla walks into my office. I grin. This is a nice end-of-the-day add-on appointment.
“Hey, it’s my favorite girls,” I say.
Before I can even stand, Lena has ripped her hand from Layla’s and runs over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I lean down for her.
“Hey, Sweetie Petey.”
She giggles, and it’s damn adorable.
Layla has made her way around the desk as well and gives me a hug before returning to the seat across from me.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I ask.
Lena has decided to stay on my lap.
“Well, we have some business with you. Some stuff I need to help you take care of. Normally, I do this by myself, but I brought Lena along in case I need help.”
“Help with what, Ladybug?”
She sighs and sits back in her chair. “Help with keeping you in love.”
I don’t mean to laugh out loud, but I do, and she scowls at me.
“Sorry. I know you did great things for Harrison and Delaney.”
“Yes. But now I’m working on you.”
“On me?” I chuckle, but I notice there’s a slight nervousness to it.
“Yes, you.”
“Since when have you needed to work on me?”
“Well, actually, I’ve been working on you for a while now. I’ve just been doing my beginning work.”
She pulls her tote off the floor, places it on her lap, then sifts through it and pulls several objects out to place on the table.
There are a few folders and a small notebook that looks familiar. I’ve seen her carrying it around and writing things in it over the last few weeks. I just figured it was like a diary.
“Okay, except I’m not… I don’t… I mean, I’m not in love.”
She tilts her head slightly downward and pins me with a gaze that says she doesn’t believe me.
“Are you ready to pay attention and work on this?”
“Uh, I guess, but—” Before I can finish my sentence, Lena’s chubby little fingers press against my lips, and she makes a shushing sound.
“Shhh.”
I glance at her, and darn it, she also has a serious expression on her face.
“Good job, Lena. See? You’re learning fast,” Layla encourages her. “It’s ‘cause we got smart ladies around us to teach us things.”
I’m loving the girl-power vibe my nieces are growing up with. They are certainly being raised with strong, intelligent women as role models.
“Okay, shall we get started?” Layla asks.
I’ll humor her.
“Sure, Ladybug. Tell me what you got.”
She tries to lean forward against the desk, but it’s a little too far from her chair, so she stands, pulls her chair forward about a foot, and sits again. Next, she leans her arms on my desk with her hands clasped.
“First, I’m gonna tell you where we’re at.”
Oh boy, what’s this kid gonna say?
“So, I know you met Lizzie in college, and I think you fell in love with her there.”
“What makes you say that, Ladybug?”
“I got eyes, and I seen how you look at her.”
“How do I look at her? If I’m looking at her in some weird way, I’m not aware of it.”
“You look at her like Daddy looks at Mommy and Uncle Harry looks at Delaney. But when you do it, you look kinda... kinda sad at the same time. That’s why it’s taking me so long to work on this case.”
Oh my God. She’s not messing around.
“I didn’t want to make you more sad, so I wasn’t sure if I should help you get her to love you. See, ‘cause if you love her and that makes you sad, then I don’t wanna make you feel bad.”
I run a hand through my hair and blow out a puff of air, my shoulders, my whole body actually, sagging at the end of it. How do I explain this to a six-year-old in a way that won’t hurt her feelings but will help deter her?
“It’s complicated. It’s not like your mom and dad or Uncle Harry and Delaney. Even if I do look at her like that or have feelings for her, she doesn’t feel the same.”
“Yes, she does,” Layla answers.
“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t,” I tell her.
“Well, she gives you the same look. She does it in secret. At least she thinks she does, but I see things. It’s ‘cause I pay attention. I’m a stoot. I’m a stoot observer.”
“I think you mean astute,” I gently correct her.
“That’s what I said.”
I decide not to go down this rabbit hole. The kid is smart, but she also has a bit of stubbornness.
“All right. Are you ready?”
Not knowing what else to do, I nod.
I watch her for a second as she opens several of her folders and sifts through them, pulling out a few sheets of paper.
I know it’s crazy to let a six-year-old get involved in your love life. At the same time, she got involved with Henry and Tillie’s and then much more actively with Harrison’s, and those turned out all right. I’m behaving like a madman even considering this.
“She’s my friend, but I don’t like her like that. Like a girlfriend.”
“Uh-huh,” she responds dismissively. “I think that you do. It’s okay, everybody gets scared sometimes.”
“Scared?”
“Yeah. It’s gonna be a lot of work. More than even Uncle Harry.”
“What? I’m not more work than Uncle Harry.” The exasperation in my words rings clear.
“Yes, you are because you have all those other ladies.”
“No, I don’t. I—”
She tosses up a hand to stop me. “I’m not judgin’. I’m just saying that if I seen all those ladies liking you, and you getting their texts, then Lizzie probably sees it. That’s not good.”
“Well, first of all, I haven’t been doing that for a while, and second, even when I did have more... more friends that were ladies, Lizzie didn’t see it.”
Layla sits back, straightens her posture, and folds her arms across her chest. “Never?”
I stop myself. I can’t really say never, can I? Not if I’m counting college. That’s who she knew me to be at the end. Still, this is all ludicrous.
“You don’t have to answer that out loud. Just answer it in here and in here.” She points to her head, and then her heart.
Lena pats over my heart several times.
“So first, we gotta fix that, and it’s good that you have already been working on that by yourself. I can’t really do much for you there, but then you gotta work on your love skills.”
I had just taken a sip of my water, and her words make me aspirate on it.
It takes me a second to realize that there’s no way she’s talking about those kind of skills because she’s six and that would be super creepy even if she weren’t.
“What do you mean?” I ask when I’ve cleared my throat.
“You gotta show her that you like her.”
“Okay. How do I do that?”
“You show her you pay attention, and you be nice to her,” she says after glancing down at her notes.
“I’m always nice to her.”
“You wasn’t that first day.” She’s got an answer for everything. Maybe she’s not really six.
“I know, but I was shocked, seeing her for the first time in a long time. I last saw her before you were even born.”
She waves me off. “Girls like when people know things about them.”
She picks up her notebook. “I did a report for you.” She sets it on the table and pushes it across the wood until it’s in front of me.
“What’s this?”
“I just told you. It’s a report.”
“A report about what?”
“All of Lizzie’s favorite things.”
“How do you know them?”
“‘Cause I interviewed her.”
“You told her you were making a report for me about what she likes, and she let you?”
“I told her I was writing a report.”
“But not why? I don’t know. She’s probably going to be mad at me if she finds out.”
Layla huffs, then places both of her fisted hands on the table. “Listen. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Do you want my help or not?”
I stare at her, but have to look away first. I have a decision to make. I focus on the little purple notebook and open it to the first page.