Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Greyson
It’d been almost an hour since Paisley disappeared upstairs behind the guest room door. Stephanie and Liz had dropped Rosie off from her walk, then left to crash at Juliet’s house for the night, while my unusually sappy sister was still talking to her husband.
I rolled my neck, trying to stretch out the kink after spending the night in a plastic chair—I wasn’t twenty-one anymore—and now being hunched over my computer, researching anything and everything I could find on retrograde amnesia.
Now I knew why they told you to never Google your symptoms. Some things you just couldn’t unknow.
But despite the mix of helpful and depressing information, I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t fault my sister and her happiness since just a couple of years ago, she complained Paisley and I were even worse. They were still technically newlyweds, but in a way so were we.
Not that Paisley knew that anymore.
My phone chimed, and I glanced at the lockscreen.
It was Paisley and me on the floating boardwalk at Lake Coeur d’Alene last September.
Her smile was infectious as she beamed at the camera.
But me? My eyes were on her. She was tickled by the idea of it being the longest floating boardwalk in the world.
We walked it multiple times during our stay at the resort for our anniversary, and each time a rambunctious child—or let’s be real, a teen boy on a mission to impress a girl—ran by, she’d grab her stomach with a soft groan.
But despite the motion sickness, she kept walking until I used it as an excuse to pull her into a hug.
The sunsets over the lake were majestic, all amber and coral, framed by the brushing tops of tall pines.
The air was fresh and crisp. But seeing her giddy enjoyment was the best part.
Man, I love her.
When the phone chimed again, I shoved aside my thoughts and swiped to read.
MAMA:
The tiramisu is just about ready. Would you like me to drop it off tonight? Or is tomorrow better?
Delilah Satterfield loved big and loved hard.
Despite having six children, she had more energy than all of us—plus my three sisters-in-law and Myles—together.
Mama never met a stranger. Maybe it was the Southerner in her that never left or maybe it was just her big heart, but holiday meals were always an adventure growing up because half of our company was always someone Mama met who didn’t have family to spend the holidays with, so we became that family.
It only made sense she’d love her kids’ spouses just as well. No mother-in-law joke could be made about Delilah Satterfield. She was the gold standard.
ME:
Pais is already in bed for the night, so maybe tomorrow.
MAMA:
Of course. How is she holding up?
ME:
As well as can be expected. Did Jules fill you in about her memory?
MAMA:
She did. Has there been any improvement? *praying hand emoji*
ME:
Not yet. Hopefully the familiar environment, even if it doesn’t feel familiar, will help. So will you and your miracle-working diabetes in a dish.
MAMA:
Don’t sass me. *wink emoji* I’ll swing by in the morning. Just text me a good time. Love you. *pink heart emoji*
ME:
Love you too.
A sneeze echoed in the hallway, and Juliet rejoined me in the living room.
“You and Myles finally run out of things to talk about?” I asked, putting my phone away.
She rolled her eyes. “This is payback for all the mushiness you and Paisley put me through. No one should have to witness that much sappiness. Especially when it’s your best friend and brother.” She gagged.
“I’m not sappy.” I totally was when it came to Paisley.
She snorted. “Bro, you were enamoured. It was disgusting.” Her nose scrunched like she’d smelled seafood, which she hated and also made her stop breathing. “But kinda cute in a weird way.”
And there was the unsentimental sister I knew and loved.
I didn’t reply. Mostly because I couldn’t bring myself to use the word enamoured in a sentence and because I knew she was right.
Myles was a great guy and fit in the family like he’d always been a part of us.
Which . . . in a way, he was. He, Cal, and I had been friends since fifth grade, and he practically lived at our house growing up.
Juliet was jaded about love for a while after her high school prom date humiliated her.
She’d carried a torch for Myles for years, even if she hadn’t admitted it to us, but their age difference and life circumstances hadn’t allowed them to reconnect until about two years ago.
Then it was a rush to the altar, but that was another story.
I had a hard time wrapping my mind around how they worked as a couple sometimes, but someone wiser than me once said, “Opposites attract.” And they were that. He softened her edges and she, well, she kept him sharp with that winning personality of hers.
Juliet’s smile turned wicked. “Speaking of . . . Mrs. Gulliver posted a very interesting video clip to The Vine.”
My blood froze. “She did not.”
“Oh, she did. I spit out my hot water when I was suddenly treated to the view of my brother with his tongue down my bestie’s throat.”
I ran a hand over my scruff. “It was not like that.”
“Uh-huh. Have you seen the video?” Juliet shuddered in horror, then rummaged through our fridge, emerging with a cold water bottle.
I hadn’t, but clearly I needed to fix that. “Why were you drinking hot water in the first place?” My sister survived on caffeine and sarcasm.
Juliet waved me off. “Myles likes it. Show of solidarity. Hey, is Mama bringing the tiramisu?”
Call me pathetic, but I took the boon she threw me in the way of a conversation shift. If she didn’t want to talk about it, who was I to pry? “Yeah, tomorrow, and whatever else Delilah Satterfield determines to be useful in the name of memory recovery. “
Juliet laughed, which was more of a honk. “I bet she’ll bring your baby pictures.”
“Paisley and I didn’t even know each other then. There’s no way that will help.”
Juliet cocked her head. “That’s it. Pictures. Your wedding. Your relationship. Maybe the pictures will help ground her. Think of the photoshoot Steph did with the two of you in April as part of her engagement ruse.”
I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest, and listened. When Juliet was on a roll, you didn’t interrupt.
“It’s summer. This town loves to pull out the stops. Do all the things she loves about this place and maybe . . .” Juliet’s eyes drifted from mine, but not before I caught the shimmer of tears. What was going on with that? Her shoulders slumped. “Then maybe she’ll come back to us.”
To you were the unspoken words. Because Juliet already had a version of Paisley. The college version. I had nothing.
“Yeah, maybe,” I said gruffly. Standing, I stretched. “Sure you don’t want me to change the sheets so you can sleep on a real bed?”
Juliet scoffed. “I’m not sleeping in the same room as your fur baby who for all her cuteness will make me sneeze all night, and I’m not risking bunking with Paisley. The couch is fine.”
My sister was a notoriously restless sleeper, prone to kicking. Violently. Good thing she married a man with nerves of steel whose literal job was to dodge pucks flying ninety miles an hour.
“All right then. Good night.” Whistling for Rosie, I made my rounds, locking up for the night.
When I crawled into bed, the room felt oppressively empty. Paisley’s toothbrush wasn’t by the sink in the bathroom, and her glasses weren’t on her nightstand.
Most importantly, she wasn’t on her side of the bed with her nose in a book, telling me all about her latest theories for whatever plot twist she thought was coming.
I stared at the framed photograph of the two of us on my nightstand.
Slowly, I twisted the warm metal band around my left ring finger, its familiar presence grounding me.
My chest spasmed with a deep, soul-crushing ache.
Reaching out, I traced a finger over her face. My wife.
She was a world away on the other side of the wall.
The minute I poured my morning coffee, Juliet started hurling. Literally.
The last time I’d seen my sister run that fast was when our second oldest brother, Shane, chased her with a dead rabbit when she was in middle school. Then came the vomiting.
I knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey, you okay?”
“Keep that foul bean elixir away from me,” Juliet muttered weakly from inside.
“Do you need anything?”
“For you to leave me to my misery in peace.”
I chuckled. “Right. Holler if you change your mind.”
After opening every downstairs window to air out the aromatic first-cup-of-the-morning smell and filling up the kettle on the stove, I let Rosie out into the backyard to do her business and sank down on the back step to enjoy the early morning coolness.
By ten o’clock, the sun would be baking into the brown countryside.
Just another part of my usual routine with Paisley that I was doing solo.
My phone chimed, and I scanned the text from my oldest brother on our sibling group chat, which was different from the family group chat with all the spouses and my parents.
DALLAS:
Mama made us swear blood oaths that we wouldn’t hound you.
So this is me not hounding you, just making sure you’re both okay.
I chuckled and downed the last swig of coffee. With a family like mine, we tended to be up in each other’s business, but I appreciated Mama running interference.
ME:
You worry too much.
brETT:
Joking is a coping mechanism, Grey.
ME:
And you guys tell me I’m the uptight one. We’re good, Doc. Coffee’s fresh, Jules is acting strange, and Pais is still sleeping.
CAL:
when is jules not acting weird
love you baby sis
My twin was allergic to punctuation, capitalization, and any sort of grammar when it came to texting. Cal’s texts usually needed a translator and were open for interpretation.
SHANE:
We’re here for whatever you need, got it?
ME:
Thanks.
DALLAS:
Seconding what Shane said to make sure you heard it. Ask for help if you need it.
Praying for you guys.
“Is it safe to come out?” Juliet called through the screen door.
“My cup’s empty if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Good man.” Juliet crossed the back porch and plopped down opposite me on the steps.
“You good?” I asked, inching my cup farther away from her and setting my phone aside.
She snorted. “Besides Cal being an annoying pain way too early in the morning? Of course.”
Uh–huh. I had a few theories about what was going on, but if Juliet was going to be tight-lipped about it, I wouldn’t be the one to pester it out of her. That was Cal’s style. And Shane’s. And also Brett’s. Guess it was an older brother thing. Dallas and I had somehow missed that gene.
Rosie loped over to us, ears flapping. Standing between my knees she pressed into me, demanding pets.
“Were you able to get a refund on the trip?”
Juliet shrugged. “I’m not sure. Stephanie was handling that last night. And if she couldn’t do it, I’m sure Nash got involved.”
I chuckled. Perks of having a millionaire fiancé. “When do she and Liz leave?”
“They extended their trip till tomorrow morning. We’re going to do a girls’ night at my place tonight if Pais feels up to it.” Juliet sniffed hard like she was trying not to cry.
“What’s going on?” a very sleepy Paisley mumbled from behind me.
Whirling around, I drank her in. She was mussed and adorable, shoving her slipping glasses back up her nose.
I swallowed hard. Early Morning Paisley was always snuggable.
She was still in my shirt, which was trying to inch off her slim shoulder, and she looked good.
Better than good. Precious. Paisley wearing my clothes was my kryptonite, and I never wanted that shirt back.
I wanted to hug her and never let go. Man, I was in so much trouble.
“Are you . . . crying again?” Paisley frowned at Juliet, blinking rapidly. “What’s the matter with you?”
Juliet waved her hand carelessly. “Nothing. How are you feeling?”
“Liar.” Paisley crossed her arms, a little awkwardly due to the sling. “Don’t deflect.”
If nothing else, I was relieved to see the scrappy version of Paisley emerging. I’d worked with this version before and could do it again.
“We’re not focusing on me right now. We’re here for you.” Juliet’s voice was firm with a hint of hysteria. Something was really up with my sister.
“Let me put the kettle on.” I nudged Rosie aside and stood. Easing past Paisley in the doorway, I instinctively bent to kiss her forehead.
But just like yesterday when I touched her back at the hospital, Paisley shied away as my lips brushed her skin, questions in her eyes.
Right. Jared. I still had to work hard not to hate the man. But I was only human and sometimes I did hate him. Right now was one of those times. So was yesterday. If only the man was still around so I could punch him for what he did to my wife.
Instead, I offered Paisley a nod and slipped into the kitchen.
I heard her and Juliet arguing softly. No doubt about Juliet’s unusual bout of emotions.
Had Paisley heard Juliet throwing up, I have no doubt she’d know exactly what was going on.
My girl had a mind for mystery—true crime particularly—and no stone went unturned.
Grabbing my phone, I shot Mama a quick text.
ME:
We’re all up. You can swing by any time.
I clicked the kettle on and carefully measured out two heaping scoops of loose leaf Earl Grey into a hobbit-hole pottery mug. It was jumbo sized, and according to Paisley, the perfect amount of caffeine. Once the kettle whistled, I poured the water over the fragrant leaves, inhaling the soft steam.
Rosie snuffled behind me, and I glanced at her. “You hungry, girl?”
Her eyebrows rose as if to say Duh, and I laughed. “Coming right up, your majesty.”
Once Rosie was chomping away on her kibble, the tea timer buzzed. I added a squirt of honey and two splashes of cream to the cup just as Paisley and Juliet stepped into the kitchen.
“Oh, thank you.” Paisley blinked in surprise when I handed her the cup. She took a tentative sip, eyes widening over the rim before a smile slipped out. “It’s perfect.”
The praise shouldn’t have made me feel ten feet tall. But it did. And I couldn’t hold back a smile of my own.