Chapter 8 #2
She giggles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s so funny running into you like this. I was just thinking I should call, and here you are.”
“Oh,” I say, no idea why she would want to call me.
She takes a small step, close enough that if she moved a certain way, our bodies would be touching. I fight the urge to step back. “I was thinking of getting drinks this Friday,” she says. “You should come.”
“I-I should?”
“Mhm. You should. It would be a great time.”
I glance down at the food in my arms. “I don’t know. I’d have to find someone to watch Ollie—”
“Think about it,” she says, and there isn’t any pressure in her tone. Karen is a good woman. She’s the sort of person I should be looking to date. But even after a year…
I don’t feel ready.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I say, mostly as an excuse to get out of here. “But I should get this home before it gets cold.”
“Of course.” She steps back, her smile turning friendly. “Tell the kids hi from me.”
By the time I get home, the rain has turned into a downpour, so I open the garage, pulling my car inside.
From the kitchen, I can hear the TV, some cartoon Ollie’s been obsessed with lately, with the songs I catch myself singing and the bright colors.
The low murmur of Will and Addie talking drowned out by the show.
After taking off my jacket and shoes, I start into the living room ready to announce my arrival, but when I see them, I’m stopped in my tracks.
Ollie is on the floor in front of the television, pushing his cars, looking up at his show when something he deems interesting happens, the way he always does.
Addie’s on the couch with Will.
He’s turned toward her, his hand moving in comforting circles over her hoodie. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, and her face is in her hands, and when he says something that makes her look at him, I can tell she’s been crying.
Her cheeks are a blotchy pink, the same color as her hair, and she wipes away more tears with her sleeves that cover her hands. “I don’t want him to like girls,” she says. “And I feel like a terrible person for saying that.”
“You’re not a terrible person,” Will says, and he sounds different than I’ve ever heard. Patient. “But that’s not really something you can decide.”
“I know that.” She wipes her face again with a frustrated sound. “And I’m not—I don’t care who he dates. It’s just, what if he gets a girlfriend and she’s more fun than me and he wants to spend time with her instead of me? She’s not going to love him the way I do. There’s no way—”
“Hey.” Will takes her hands, holding her gaze. “A hypothetical girlfriend isn’t going to replace his best friend.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Of course I do,” he says, and he sounds so convinced it’d be hard to argue. “You’ve been best buds since you were kids. If anything, he’s gonna need you more.”
She sniffles. “Why would he need me?”
“Because girls are scary. Don’t you think he’s gonna need advice from his best friend?”
She looks down at her knees, picking at the chipped paint on her nails. “I don’t want things to change.”
Something shifts in Will’s expression that I can see, but Addie doesn’t. And I know he’s thinking the same thing I’ve been wondering for years. “Is this really about Emmett dating? Because the way you talk about him—”
“Don’t,” she says, and she would sound angry if she wasn’t so upset. “Don’t even go there, Uncle Will.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, all I did was ask. And if you had feelings for him, would that be such a bad thing?”
“He’s my best friend. That’s it. I don’t—I can’t—” She shakes her head, wiping her eyes again. “Why would you even say that?”
“Because you’re sitting here crying about the idea of him being with someone else.”
“I just love him,” she says, leaning over to rest her head on her uncle’s shoulder. He pulls her in tighter.
“I know you do,” Will says, resting his head against hers.
I haven’t moved the entire time.
I’m standing in the kitchen with a bag full of takeout, watching my brother-in-law hold my daughter together better than I’d ever be able to, and there’s a feeling, sitting right at the surface, that I can’t ignore this time.
He’s good with her. He always has been.
I’ve known that, I’ve watched it, I’ve admired it even. But something about this is different. With them sitting in my living room on a normal day. Addie going to him for advice.
I set my keys down on the counter too hard.
Addie’s head comes up from Will’s shoulder, and she wipes the remaining tears from her face. “Hey, Dad,” she says, her usual brightness more dim than usual.
“Hey, kiddo, you alright?” My voice comes out steadier than I feel as I check in on my daughter, matching her smile when she nods. But when Will meets my eyes, I look away. I don’t know what to do with myself, and I need to be alone, away from him.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower, you all help yourselves.”
“Okay,” Will says, telling the kids something about getting their food, but I don’t hear him, already halfway up the staircase.
In the shower, I stand with both hands on the tile, the water running over my shoulders, down my face, until it turns cold, and I wonder, not for the first time, if I’m being honest—
What is happening to me?