Chapter 47
rosaries and tiny violins
Rowan
Hannah
Why doesn’t my house key work, Rowan?!
Me
Because I told you I was changing your locks before I left.
Hannah
Rowan
Me
Hannah
Your spare is taped underneath the plant stand on the far side of your garage.
Hannah
So LITERALLY as far as you could get it from my front door.
Me
That’s LITERALLY the point.
Hannah
*sigh*
Me
Extra copies are in the drawer of your entry table.
Dubs and I are picking up our tuxes. Mom and Bri should be back from dress shopping soon.
Hannah
It’s a wonder I managed to feed myself before you came along.
Me
Jury’s still out on that one.
Hannah
Rude
Me
Is now a good time to tell you I also installed a video doorbell?
Hannah
*long suffering sigh*
What about one of those motion sensor flood lights over the garage? Will daddy buy me one of those too?
Me
Ew
Hannah
Still a no on the daddy kink. Roger that
Me
The light’s not a bad idea.
Hannah
I swear to god, if you show up with a floodlight I’m never kissing you again.
Okay, survey says that was a lie.
But seriously…don’t buy me a floodlight!
Rowan, why are you leaving me on read?
ROWAN SHAW!
Me
Imma light up the whole goddamn neighborhood, sunshine…same way you light up my life.
Hannah
Wow…
“Man, that girl’s got you whipped.”
I look up from my screen, schooling the reserved for Hannah smile off my face. Dubs grin is cocky as per usual. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughs as he hands over his credit card to the woman at the register, tuxedo bag slung over one shoulder. “Sure, boss, because spending half the day installing new deadbolts on the house of a woman you’ve known for two weeks isn’t whipped behavior at all.”
I keep my expression polite for the employee behind the counter, but my tone is a warning. “Shut it, Dubs.”
And he does. At least until we get to my truck.
His gaze burns a hole into the side of my head until we’re out of the parking lot. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what? Like your best friend who knows you better than you know yourself and can tell when you’re down bad?”
Ignorance is bliss, I decide, so I don’t respond, opting to keep my eyes on the road instead of acknowledging the hollow ache in my chest. Because he has no idea just how down bad I am.
“So what’s the plan? You gonna move out here or what?”
A barely there shake of my head because…if only. If only that was a possibility any time soon. If ever.
“You know, don’t quote me on this, but rumor has it Colorado has doctors. Good ones.”
“What?”
“You heard me. This may come as a shock to you, but North Carolina isn’t the only state with doctors and hospitals capable of treating Tess.”
The truck rolls to a stop at a red light. I drag a hand down my face. “It’s not that simple. Her medical team—doctors, surgeons, therapists—they have a whole plan in place, everyone coordinates with each other, it’s…complex.”
He hums. “I’m sure it is.”
The notion is too far-fetched. With a recovery process as complicated as Mom’s, it’s critical for her to remain under the care of the same medical professionals until she gets through this.
Missing a week of physical therapy to come out here sets her back enough as it is.
I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around the consequences of relocating across the country, assembling a brand new medical team from scratch.
But besides all of that, Mom doesn’t want to move. What kind of son would I be if I left her alone in a rundown house to start a life on the other side of the country? I’d never forgive myself if she needed me or, god forbid, something awful happened and I wasn’t there.
When the light turns green, I pull forward, hoping this conversation is over. No such luck.
“Any chance Hannah would move to Charlotte?” Dubs asks.
One long, heavy breath. “Nah, man. Her mom, her job—she can’t leave.” And I’d never ask her to.
“So that’s it then? You’re gonna throw up your hands and let the woman you love slip through your fingers? Just like that?”
I scoff, but it’s only a mask for the guilt. “It’s not like th—”
“I swear on my granny’s rosary, if you try and tell me you’re not in love with that girl I’ll call the guys back here so Taz can beat your ass.”
Pretty sure not even the devil himself could convince a commercial pilot to turn a plane around mid-flight, but the thought is funny enough.
“She loves you too, you know.”
My head jerks, eyes wide. “Did she tell you that?” I sound too eager and my friend’s smug face makes me want to punch him in the balls. Lovingly, of course.
“Didn’t have to,” he says. “It’s obvious, dude. Hell if I know why, but Hannah loves you.”
So help me, if that’s true, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. It’s not a matter of letting her slip through my fingers, it’s circumstances outside of our control making it impossible to take hold of anything in the first place.
This hurts too much. I need to change the subject. “What about Bri?” I cast him a pointed look for a beat, fix my attention back on the road. “You look at her a certain way.”
His laugh is empty, not an ounce of humor. “Yeah, well, that’s different. I know when I’m out of my league. Girls like your sister don’t end up with guys like me.” He pops a shoulder. “I flirt because it’s fun, not because I think I actually stand a chance.”
Walker Willis’ trademark is hubris. You either eat up his confidence and join in the chaos or you write him off as immature. But right now, the bravado he always seems to hold up as a shield has cracked.
I’m not able to form a response before he circles me back. “Also, I know you’re trying to change the subject and I’m not gonna let you. Hannah and Bri? Same league. And you’re the lucky bastard who could actually keep her if you get your shit together.”
“And you couldn’t?” I probably shouldn’t encourage it, but Dubs is my friend. Any girl—even my stepsister—would be lucky to have him.
“Bro, your sister’s a goddamn doctor. She can do a lot better than a Puerto Rican-Texas transplant who shoots guns for a living.”
My head rears back. “Dubs—”
“Don’t ‘Dubs’ me, we’re talking about you. What are you gonna do about Hannah?”
I turn into Hannah’s driveway and pull up next to her car, killing the engine. Twirling the keys in my hand, I prop my elbow on the window and cast my gaze to her front door.
“There’s nothing I can do,” I finally answer. “The timing isn’t good for either of us.”
His weary exhale cuts through the quiet in the cab. “You’re a fixer, Rowan, and I get it. All us guys are. But you’re gonna run yourself into the ground trying to fix everything for everyone else if you don’t take care of you once in a while.
“Your mom was dealt a crappy hand and you did what you had to do. It’s what any decent son would have done.
You made sure nothing interfered with Bri’s plans because you want her to have everything she’s worked so hard for.
” He pauses and I meet his eyes. “And I know you’re beating yourself up over not being here for your grandfather because you somehow think if you’d been here then maybe he’d still be alive.
” Dubs shakes his head. “That’s not how it works, man. Life’s tough shit sometimes.”
A soft chuckle escapes. “You sound like Pops.”
He smiles a little. “Every choice you make is in service to others and it’s one of the best qualities about you. But where do you think you get that from?”
I slide my tongue over my teeth and drop his gaze, the attention splitting me clean open.
“You think you’re special out here carrying some martyr’s cross when the OG is right there.” Dubs points at the house where the woman who raised Bri and me, nearly single-handedly, currently resides. “You get it from her.”
I force down the pressure building behind my eyes. “It’s my job to take care of them.” Mom. Bri. And now, Hannah. The burden I feel to ensure their well-being, their safety—it consumes me.
“Damn straight it is, it’s in your blood. But you don’t have to give up what you want to take care of others. It’s not what they’d want for you and it’s certainly not what you deserve.”
What if all I want is her?
Bri’s words on the dock yesterday flash in my mind. You can have this. But when?
Hannah steps outside, unaware of my truck shielded by her SUV in the driveway.
She’s so damn beautiful it hurts.
As though he can read my mind, Dubs says, “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
I give him a quick nod, settle my attention back on Hannah as she steps in front of my bumper, finally catching sight of us. Her lips are flat, but her hazels are smiling. I hide my grin behind my hand.
She stands there, hip popped, holding up her new house key in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other.
“Every time, Rowan,” she says, voice barely audible through the windshield. “Every time I use my emergency key, I have to come out here with a roll of tape. What if it’s snowing or there’s a zombie apocalypse, hmm?”
I meet her deadpan stare through the glass and mimic playing a tiny violin on my shoulder.
She shakes her head through a roll of her lips, giving it all she’s got to not let that smile show. Then she turns for the planter and crouches down to secure the key where I told her to.
Dubs clicks his tongue and grumbles something under his breath in Spanish before sighing and adding, “Love in plain fucking sight. Don’t be an idiot, Shaw.”