Chapter 21 Collins
Collins
I woke up the next morning to my phone vibrating nearby. I groggily blinked a few times and reached out for it. Something tightened around my waist—an arm maybe? Wait. I’d know that arm anywhere.
“Your phone is ringing.” Brady yawned, and then kissed the back of my neck. I suppressed the shiver that went down my spine.
Last night, Brady and I kissed…a lot. It didn’t go further than that, but even just kissing Brady made me feel like I was stripped down with all of my flaws on display. Not in a bad way. He made me feel comfortable.
I pushed myself up to a sitting position, grabbed my phone off the coffee table, and answered. “Hey, Dad,” I said. “Everything okay?”
“Good morning, peanut,” Dex said on the other end of the phone. “Sorry if I woke you up—I thought you’d be getting ready for work.” All the lights were on in the apartment kitchen, which meant the power must’ve come back on at some point in the night.
“Overslept,” I said. “What’s up? Are you home?”
“I’m on my way,” he said. “I won’t get there until tomorrow, but your mom needs some help.
The basement flooded last night,” my dad said.
“The water pump we had in the walkout finally shit out.” My parents had a walkout basement, and the stairs that led out were notorious for flooding—it was why they never finished the basement all the way.
My dad had a janky water pump system he’d created with an extension cord, a water pump he found in the trash, and a dream.
“Oh no,” I said. “Is everything okay down there?”
“It’s…it’s pretty bad. A lot of stuff is going to have to go. Do you think you could head over there after work? Clarke’s going to be at the shop all day, and your mom will probably be back and forth.”
For some reason, my eyes shifted back to Brady, who was watching me intently. “Go help them,” he whispered.
Are you sure? I mouthed, and he nodded.
“I can come over now,” I said. “Brady is ahead of schedule this week, so I’m not needed here at the moment.”
I heard my dad’s sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “I’m so happy you’re here, peanut. I’ll call your mom back and tell her.”
“I’ll be over in like thirty minutes,” I said.
“Sounds good. Love you.”
“Love you,” I said, and then hung up. Without my dad on the phone, I was back to remembering that I woke up in Brady’s arms less than ninety seconds ago. I cleared my throat. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Brady said. “I don’t remember falling asleep out here.”
I shook my head. “Me either.” I remember moving to the couch while we were kissing, but I didn’t remember when it shifted from that, to spoons, to restful sleep.
It was probably the first full night of sleep I’d gotten in over a year.
“I’m, um, sorry about…” Brady gestured toward the couch.
I brought my hand to the side of his face. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Last night was good…it was really good.”
Brady’s mouth stretched into a tentative grin. “I’m glad you think so.”
I nodded. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then go to my parents’. Thanks for letting me off today.”
“I’ll go with you,” Brady said. “Three sets of hands are better than two.”
“Um.” I couldn’t really argue with that; plus, I could shirk all the heavy lifting onto Brady if things were really dreary in the basement. I wasn’t quite sure what I was walking into. “Sure, yeah, okay.”
“Rally in twenty?” he asked, and I nodded before darting toward my side of the apartment. I shut the door to my bathroom and quickly turned the shower on before pressing my back against the door. I slid down to the floor and pulled my knees up to my chest.
I don’t know why waking up with Brady made everything feel so different. I was afraid something bigger was happening here. And I didn’t do this—not in Sweetwater Peak.
But Brady wasn’t from Sweetwater Peak. I realized now that he was the best and most unexpected part of coming back home.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t know how to deal with this yet.
I didn’t even know if there was something to deal with.
Maybe it was the candles and the darkness that did us in, or maybe it was how he listened to me like my voice was the only one he wanted to hear.
Maybe it’s because I felt that way about him, too.
Oh god. I was doomed.
I pushed up off the floor and decided not to think about it. For now, I’d just shower and let the water wash everything else away.
The only problem was that Brady was under my skin—not atop it.
—
I found my mom in the kitchen when I got to my parents’ house. She looked up at me and tried to smile, but her eyes were red and swollen. “Hi, baby,” she forced out.
I walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “How bad is it, Mom?”
“It’s bad,” she sighed, and wiped at her eyes. “It’s really bad. I thought I’d make you breakfast before you have to start lifting a bunch of waterlogged boxes.”
“It’s fine, Mom,” I said. “You don’t have to do that. I’m ready to help.” I cleared my throat a little. “And, um, Brady’s going to come help, too.”
“He is?” The surprise was evident in her face.
I nodded. “He called the hardware store on our way here to see if they had a water pump, and they do, so he dropped me off and went to pick it up.”
“That’s…nice of him.”
“I know Dad is going to miss the old one, but we can give it a funeral and everything,” I said.
My mom gave me a half laugh. “We gave that water pump a good second life. Sometimes new things are necessary.” She went quiet for a moment before she clapped her hands together. “Well then, both of you will need breakfast.”
“But isn’t this kind of time sensitive?” I asked. “The longer stuff sits, the less chance we have of saving it.”
“They’re just things, Collins,” my mom sighed. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that, too.
“But you love things,” I responded. Both of my parents did. They’d spent their entire lives collecting stuff—built a business that was literally all about things.
“I do,” my mom said. “But what’s ruined is ruined, and unfortunately, I think there’s less to save down there than you think.”
The way my mom said it—resigned—hit me square in the chest.
“I’m so sorry, Mom.”
I watched a tear slide its way down my mom’s cheek. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll be okay.”
“Not because you’re going to sell the building to some developer, right?” I asked without thinking. My mouth moved way faster than my brain.
Joanie’s eyes widened. “Where did you hear about that?” she asked.
“Clarke,” I said.
“Of course,” my mom sighed. “I might as well be honest here. We declined their first offer.” I already knew that.
“Their first offer? Meaning there’s a second?” Joanie nodded slowly. “And you haven’t said no this time?”
“I haven’t said yes either, but the timing…homeowner’s insurance is a joke, and you know we’ve always had a tight belt. I don’t think it can get much tighter.”
“I’ll help,” I said, even though I didn’t have any money. “You can’t sell Toades. It’s your dream. It’s Clarke’s dream.”
“Dreams change, Collins.” Her voice sounded sad.
“Dreams flood and become unrecognizable. I don’t know where my head is at right now.
I need to talk to your father. Today just isn’t the day for this discussion.
It’s too…it’s just a bad day. If we decide to sell, you and Clarke will be the first to know, and I promise, our goal is always to hold on to Toades. ”
I knew that my stalemate with Clarke couldn’t last any longer than it took for me to clean out the basement today. She needed to know that the developer situation had not gone away.
“Okay,” I said, letting the conversation fall to the wayside for now. I needed Clarke.
There was a knock on the front door. “Come in,” I yelled, and my mom turned her back to me to start on breakfast.
Brady appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later. Every time I saw him, I had to fight a dreamy sigh. It was annoying how good he looked in jeans and a hoodie. He was carrying what I assumed was the water pump under one arm.
“Hi, Brady,” my mom said brightly—someone get her an Oscar.
“Hi, Mrs. Cartwright,” he responded. “I’m really sorry.”
“I’ve told you a million times to call me Joanie, please,” my mom said. “Thank you for coming to help out, and for the water pump—it’s very kind of you.”
“Uh, yeah.” Brady stuttered a little. “Happy to help out.”
“I’m making us a little breakfast first. How do you feel about blueberry pancakes?”
“I feel great about that,” he said. “Thank you.”
I motioned for Brady to come sit on the stool next to me. “I feel like I should warn you that we’re having these the Collins way,” my mom said.
“What’s the Collins way?” Brady asked.
“Straight from the Jiffy muffin mix box,” my mom said. “She won’t eat pancakes any other way.” It was true. I’ve been to a lot of trendy brunch spots and no fancy blueberry pancake beat the blueberry pancake from the Jiffy blueberry muffin mix.
The kitchen started to smell like browned butter and sugar after a few minutes. My mom asked Brady about Coop’s as she cooked.
After she put a plate in front of Brady and me, she held up two jars of homemade syrup. “Collins likes cherry with hers, but we’ve got maple, too.”
“I’ll try them the Collins way,” Brady said, and smiled at me. I looked away. Don’t look at me like that while my mom is around.
The first bite was heavenly. I closed my eyes while I chewed—so sweet and fluffy and buttery. My mom, who’s never been quiet once in her life, talked Brady’s ear off as we ate. She was totally enthralled by the fabric ordering process.
“Did you lose power last night?” Joanie asked, and both Brady and I nodded. “We’ll have to get you a backup generator, Brady. I’ll send Dex over with one when he gets home.”
“He doesn’t have to do that,” Brady said. “Really, I talked to someone at the hardware store this morning.”