29. Easton
EASTON
“You get the juice. I’ll get a smoothie.” Frowning down at the breakfast tray, I have to rearrange a few things to make space. “Do you think we have too much here?”
“You mean most people don’t eat a bagel, scrambled eggs, fruit salad, yogurt with granola, and a smoothie at breakfast?
” Preston snickers at me while adding a big glass of fresh orange juice to everything else there’s already not enough room for.
“Maybe we overdid it a little bit, but we don’t know what she’s going to want, either. She has options.”
Yes, it sounds better when he puts it that way.
There’s something really special about this morning. It feels like Christmas when we were kids, full of anticipation, overflowing with hope. All because somebody special is upstairs, and hopefully she’s still asleep in my bed.
I didn’t realize until now how flat and bland life was before she walked into it. When I think back on how I resented her, it’s like remembering something that happened to completely different people. I hardly even remember it.
Why would I bother when it’s so much better to walk into my bedroom with a tray full of food for the girl still sleeping in the middle of the bed?
She must have figured out at some point that she’s alone, because her arms and legs are stretched out starfish-style.
I almost hate to wake her up and spoil her good time.
She starts to wake up once I set the tray down. “Morning, sunshine,” Preston murmurs, as she rolls onto her back and blinks sleepily up at us.
“You made me breakfast?” She sounds so surprised, her voice soft and full of wonder.
“Of course. We weren’t sure what you would like, though,” I add, looking down at all the food.
“It’s so sweet of you.” She sits up wearing a happy grin, and I place the tray in her lap for her to dig in. It’s good to see her eating like this, not picking at her food or forcing herself.
“Have you seen Sarah yet this morning?” she asks while smearing cream cheese on her bagel.
“No, her door’s still closed, but I texted to ask how she’s feeling,” Preston tells her, taking a seat on her left while I sit on the right. “She said she’s doing all right. A little sore, but she will be for a few days, I think.”
“It just sucks because today’s her birthday,” I explain, making Emma’s eyes widen.
“Oh, it’s her birthday? I didn’t know that! I would’ve said something about it last night, wished her a good one or whatever.”
She sounds so genuinely sorry, it’s cute. She really cares. “You know, if you want to do something nice for her today, you should come shopping with us.”
I’m totally ad-libbing this, but Preston catches up with me easily, the way he usually does. “Yeah, we don’t have anything for her yet. We could probably use a girl’s input on what she would like.”
“I would love to go with you, though I don’t know how much help I could be. I don’t really know her,” she reminds us.
“She likes the kind of stuff girls like,” I explain, waving my hand. “Smelly stuff, makeup, skincare.”
“I’m sure we can find something,” Emma agrees with a twinkle in her eye.
And now I have the rest of the day to look forward to, all because I know she’ll be part of it.
Could it really be this easy? I know it’s the kind of thing I’m going to have to work at—making sure she’s happy, making sure she has what she needs.
But it’s worth it, because just being in the same room with her makes me feel lighter, brighter, happier. Like things make sense for the first time in as long as I can remember. Like I have a purpose, and that purpose is her.
Which means taking her shopping for herself and using Sarah as an excuse to get her out.
The look I exchange with Preston tells me he’s on the same page.
I want to give her everything she’s missed out on, including the freedom of walking into the mall and going on a shopping spree she could never afford otherwise.
Whatever it takes, so long as I can see her eyes sparkle like they are now.
It’s something I think I could become addicted to.
“I thought this was supposed to be about your sister.” Emma folds her arms, looking up at us after we come to a stop in front of the third store we’ve visited so far.
“But all you want to talk about is what I like. And you’ve already bought me all of this.
” She holds up a pair of shopping bags from the time we’ve already spent encouraging her to try things on.
Looking inside the big, brightly lit store, I shrug. “There’s makeup and girly stuff in here. We could find something for Sarah, no problem.”
“And maybe we’ll find something for you at the same time,” Preston suggests with a grin that makes her shake her head disapprovingly.
“I’m starting to think that’s what this is all about. Is it even your sister’s birthday?” she asks.
“Oh, definitely.” That much is absolutely true. “In fact, we’re all supposed to go to dinner tonight for her. We’ll have to find you something to wear for that.”
“Wait a minute. What?” When we go into the store, she has to follow us. “What are you talking about? Dinner?”
“Yeah, I left a note at home asking if we could add another person to our reservation for tonight.” I can’t help but laugh when I look over my shoulder and see her face go red. “It’ll be fun.”
“Oh, yeah. Fun. Dinner with your family when I’m completely unprepared.” She chews her lip and fiddles with her pearls, but I know it’s not going to make a difference. She’s coming with us.
“I really don’t understand any of this,” she confesses once Preston takes the shopping bags out of her hands, and I give her a plastic basket.
“It’s pretty simple. If we’re going out to dinner for Sarah’s birthday, we want you there with us.
” Putting my hands on her shoulders, I turn her around so she’s facing the rows and rows of makeup and skincare, perfume, and all kinds of other things I can’t even identify.
“So get whatever you want, as much of it as you want. Whatever you need to feel good tonight.”
“I really can’t believe this.” She looks up at me, her brow creased. “What’s the catch?”
I hate that she even has to ask that question. She’s still not completely convinced. “There’s no catch. You want to live? Start living. Get anything and everything you want. Don’t even think about the cost. Just let yourself have fun.”
“And don’t bother asking for our opinion on anything, because we don’t have the first clue,” Preston jokes. It takes her a second, but she eventually starts off, walking slowly down the first aisle.
I exchange a glance with Preston. “Is this crazy?” I ask. “Are we doing the right thing?”
“Does it feel like the right thing?” he asks.
I don’t need to think about the answer. I only need to check in with how I feel inside. “Definitely. You?”
“Absolutely.” We’re both smiling as we watch Emma progress through the store. Somehow, it’s even possible to smile when it’s time to pay for everything she loaded into her basket. Whatever it takes, so long as I can see her looking this happy. I’d buy the whole store if I had to.
By the time we’re finished and back at the house, I sort of feel like I bought the entire mall.
There are bags from a half dozen stores scattered around my room, and the happy humming coming from the shower reminds me what it’s all about.
She wanted to live a little? She definitely lived today. So did our bank cards.
Sarah comes limping up to my door while Emma is still in the shower.
“I heard Emma’s coming to dinner.” She’s all smiles, telling me she likes the idea.
“Is she? I thought we could get ready together.” And I love her for it.
If there’s one thing Emma needs, it’s acceptance.
She’s been missing that just as much as she’s missed money and security.
She deserves to have the kind of experiences other girls have all the time.
When Sarah taps on the bathroom door and asks Emma to meet her in her room, I hear the excitement in Emma’s voice when she accepts.
It could be this easy, couldn’t it? Bringing her into the fold, making her a part of our lives. Not that I’d want to take her from Grandma Lois—the two of them need each other. But I need her in my world too.
Maybe we could move Grandma Lois in with us?
Okay, now I’m taking it too far. But I can’t help it. I’m practically giddy by the time I’m dressed and downstairs with Preston, waiting for everybody else.
Mom joins us first, and right away I notice how bright-eyed and put-together she is. She doesn’t have that glassy look, and she’s not overly hyper or talkative the way she can be when she’s on an opioid high.
“You look so handsome, both of you,” she murmurs, reaching up to adjust the collar on my button-down shirt. “Between the three of us, I think it’s sweet the way you want to include your friend. Sarah tells me she’s a very nice girl.”
“She is,” Preston quickly agrees. “And she’s had a really tough time, so we want to make things nice for her whenever we can.”
Mom takes one of my hands, then one of Preston’s. Are there tears in her eyes when she looks up at us, wearing a loving smile? “My boys. You have the sweetest hearts. That’s one thing I’ve never questioned about either of you. You are both my sweet sons.”
I can’t remember the last time we had a talk like this, and it’s a little overwhelming. I want to be the person she sees in front of her. Somebody with a good heart. Somebody who does the right things for the right reasons. I want to live up to the way she sees me.
And I want to earn the happiness I see radiating from Emma as she leads the way down the stairs in a new black dress we bought her today. It’s simple and classic, and it goes well with her pearls. I need to find out when her birthday is so we can buy her a matching pair of earrings.
“Here comes the birthday girl,” she announces once she reaches the bottom of the staircase, but it’s Emma I care about. Emma, who looks so beautiful, radiant.
When Dad comes jogging down the stairs, he pauses halfway down, looking us over. “I’m impressed,” he tells us with a grin. “Look at all of you. How lucky am I?”
I’m starting to understand what he means.
He is definitely in a good mood tonight, and the feeling carries through to the restaurant, where he lifts a glass of freshly poured Merlot in Sarah’s direction.
“To the beautiful birthday girl,” he announces with a loving smile.
“I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming.
Nothing but the best for you this year and always. ”
I would swear I’m dreaming. Mom looks happy and healthy. Dad is actually behaving like a human being, not some robot who learned how to fake emotion. And Emma is easily the most beautiful girl in the restaurant. She glows in the candlelight, laughing softly at the jokes we lob back and forth.
Over appetizers, Dad waves his fork between me and Preston. My heart sinks for a second—is he going to disappoint me and say something shitty? “I have to say, I’m impressed with you two. You stepped up in a big way. Believe me, I receive regular reports.”
That’s not a big surprise. Like it’s not exactly what I knew was going to happen. But I can’t pretend hearing his approval isn’t a change of pace. “You thought we’d blow the whole thing off?” I ask with a smirk.
“Do you want the honest answer to that question?” he counters, though it’s obvious he’s trying to hide a grin. “Suffice it to say, you did well, and I’m grateful to you both for accepting the responsibility.”
I’m liking the way this conversation is going and the mood he seems to be in, so why not take the risk? “Any idea how much longer we’re going to have to accept that responsibility?”
“Yeah, can we at least get an idea of a date?” Preston asks.
“Sure, put me on the spot in front of your friend.” Dad gives Emma a private smile before his gaze swings back to Preston and me. “I think we can call your volunteer duties finished at this point.”
Thank fuck . Now tonight really feels like a celebration.
And thanks to Emma, I can see a future in front of me that involves a lot more nights like this one. Sitting here with a sense of satisfaction, feeling like life is finally on the right track.
Because she’s on that track with us.