Chapter Twenty-Nine Everleigh
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Everleigh
It’s been three months since Will left. He occasionally texts me, but only in response to my texts asking about him and his parents.
Sometimes he replies with a thumbs-up emoji, like when I moved out and sent him a photo of my Airstream with my barndominium under construction in the background.
I officially have it enclosed and heated.
“Do you have plans for this weekend?” I ask Jamie as we leave the clinic for the day. She has the cutest little baby bump she rests her hand on, but it’s not visible unless she’s in a fitted shirt.
“Will drove down this morning, so we’re doing a Friendsgiving Saturday since Maren and Ozzy have plans for Thanksgiving next week. And Will wants to be home, of course, with his parents. He’ll go home Sunday. His sister and her family have been in Somers this week. They did Thanksgiving early.”
My heart plummets into my stomach. Will’s in town, but he didn’t mention it?
“Is this his first time back since he moved?” I ask as we walk toward our cars parked beside each other.
“No. I think it’s like . . . maybe the third.”
It’s happening all over again. William Landry is stabbing a knife into my chest and twisting it side to side.
“He stayed with Maren and Ozzy last time because Lola desperately wanted him to, but he had to drink Benadryl like water to keep his cat allergies from killing him.” She laughs.
I muster a smile, but it’s far from real. He’s keeping me at arm’s length. I get it. The analytical part of my brain knows why, but my heart doesn’t care what my brain says. It just fucking hurts.
“How’s his dad? The last time I texted him, he said his dad was just getting weaker and more confused.”
“You text him?” Jamie asks, stopping at her car door and giving me a raised eyebrow.
I bite my tongue to keep from blurting out the truth, but it’s hard. I swear I can taste blood. “Sometimes.” I smile. “I know you said to let him go. And clearly I have. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
However, I’m not a friend, because I’m not invited to Friendsgiving.
Jamie narrows her eyes and slowly nods. “Well, I haven’t seen him today. He arrived after I left for work. We’re hanging out tonight, so I’ll get a chance to catch up. But last week I talked to him. His dad’s been in hospice care for the past month.”
I return a tiny nod and open my mouth to say more but rethink that decision. Everything about Will comes with an asterisk because his dad is dying.
I love him, but his dad is dying.
The chemistry between us never died, but his dad is dying.
I want to scream at him for not coming to see me on his two other trips back to Missoula, but his dad is dying.
“Tell him ‘hi,’” I say. “Sounds like you’re all going to have a fun time.”
“Thanks.” She eyes me, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. “I’d invite you over tonight, but I’m sure you have—”
“I’d love to come. What time?”
“Um . . .” She pinches the bridge of her nose. I’m sure she’s in panic mode because everyone will be upset that she invited me. Especially Will because he’s an asshole—but his dad is dying. “Seven?”
“Perfect.” I grin. “What can I bring?”
“Oh, nothing. We’ll uh—”
I flick my wrist at her. “I’ll figure it out. Thanks for the invite. See ya soon.”
Jamie is a baker. I’ve heard that Ozzy is a grill king. So I pick up pints of ice cream from Sweet Peaks, including Campfire S’mores and Griz Tracks, which I’ve heard are Lola’s favorites. Is it too cold for ice cream? I hope not.
Why am I so nervous to see Will? It’s been three months. We’ve texted. No big deal. But as I step out of my car parked along the street and adjust my black sweater over my faded jeans, my hands shake. I haven’t felt this unnerved, even speaking in front of auditoriums full of my colleagues.
“Breathe,” I whisper to myself, clenching the bag of ice cream as I make my way to the front door.
“Hey,” Jamie says while opening the door with the festive fall wreath. “Come in. Everyone is out back by the grill. There are hanging heaters, so it’s not too chilly.”
“I brought ice cream. Lola’s favorite.” I smile.
“Oh. That was nice of you, but Lola’s not here. She’s spending the night with a friend.” Jamie takes the bag from me and puts it in the freezer. “Come on.” She nods toward the deck door.
My heart might explode. William Landry is the most dangerous drug.
“Look who made it,” Jamie says.
“Hi,” everyone chimes at the same time.
“How have you been?” Maren asks, standing from a rocker to give me a hug.
I nearly cry because I just want to be one of the friends.
The chair next to her has a sweatshirt draped over the back. It’s probably Ozzy’s.
There are two outdoor love seats separated by a fire table. Will’s on one, and Jamie sits on the other, tucking her legs underneath her fuzzy gray sweater.
Do I sit next to her? Will Fitz mind? Before I can make this monumentally challenging decision, Jamie nods toward Will. “Scooch to make room for Everleigh. Surely, you two can get along for one night.” She winks at me.
Why? Were they talking about me before I arrived? Or is she silently teasing me because she knows I’m head over heels for this man?
Will moves to one side and gives me a head-to-toe inspection as I squeeze past Maren’s legs to sit next to him.
You are a doctor. A brilliant psychiatrist. Act like it!
I smile at Will. “Good to see you. I heard your sister is with your parents this weekend. Did you get to meet your new niece before you left?”
He’s just a man. I treat lots of men. My hands clench at my sides, then I move them to my lap and gently fold them, and that calms me.
Will pauses before answering, staring at my chest and then my lips. Now I hate him. (Not really, but in theory.) He can’t treat me like a nobody for three months and then look at me like we’ll end up in bed later tonight.
He wets his lips and nods. “Yeah. She’s pretty special.”
Must be nice to be special in your eyes. “What’s her name?”
“Eloise. Ellie.”
“Speaking of babies,” Maren says. “I heard you and Will knew about Jamie’s pregnancy before I did.” She narrows her eyes at Jamie.
I glance over at Will because I knew he knew.
“It was a litmus test,” Jamie says with a laugh.
Will slides his gaze to her. “Not really. I didn’t know that Fitz blabbermouthed to Will.
I had to tell Everleigh because I needed to explain why I was looking for work in Missoula.
Fitz said they’d probably tell each other.
And I said only if you two were sleeping together. ”
I stiffen, moving only my eyes in Will’s direction. He pauses his beer at his lips and grins at Jamie. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You all suck. I should have known first,” Maren says.
“So, Everleigh,” Ozzy interrupts as if he knows that a change in subject will calm Maren, “how’s construction on your barndo going?”
“Really good. I’m framing walls.”
“Do you need help?” Ozzy asks.
“Help is great,” I say, looking at Will, and he playfully narrows his eyes at me. “But I know everyone is busy. And I’m fine in my Airstream. So it will get finished when it gets finished. I don’t mind the process.”
“I’m not too busy.” Ozzy shrugs. “Maybe I can bring Lola and she can learn a few things.”
“You’re a good man, Ozzy,” I say. “Maren is lucky to have you. Good men are hard to come by.”
Fitz clears his throat.
“You’re one of the good ones, too, Fitz. I didn’t forget about you.” I smirk at Jamie.
“Will’s a man too,” Fitz says with his back to us as he turns the burgers. “I don’t know if he’s a good man, but he would be all over that kind of work if he still lived around here.”
“I’d be all over a lot of things if I still lived here,” Will says before finishing the last swig of his beer. “Because I am good. A good man who is good at things.”
Heat crawls up my neck. What does he mean by that?
He stands. “Can I get anyone anything else to drink while I’m inside?”
“Everleigh, what can we get you?” Jamie asks.
“Uh . . .” I look around at what everyone else is drinking.
“There are lots of options in the fridge,” she says. “Go take a look.”
“Thanks.” I follow Will into the kitchen.
He tosses his empty bottle into the recycling bin. I want to say something. But what? Everything comes with that asterisk. And everything I want to say would sound like I’m making things about me.
And maybe I am.
After taking a cherry-lime sparkling water from the fridge, I close the door and face Will. He draws a long breath and leans his backside against the counter, hands on the edge.
“It’s good to see you,” he says.
I swallow my response. It’s a long one, with bullet points and lots of exclamation marks. A few words in all caps.
“There seems to be a lot of good going around tonight.” I stare at him, but he gives nothing away. “It’s good to see you too,” I say because I mean it.
I’m okay with silence. When I’m with patients, these pauses allow space for deeper self-reflection and time to process emotions. Nothing is rushed. But the silence between us in this kitchen feels like a lie, like there’s nothing to say. Yet, there’s so much to say.
“Working?” I ask.
“Volunteer with the fire department.”
“Gaming?”
He grins. “More than I should be. It’s an escape.”
“We could play together.”
Will wets his lips. “I do love playing with you.”
I tuck my chin, heat bleeding into my cheeks. “Are you sure about that?” The second I mumble the words, I feel regret for ignoring the asterisk.
“What does that mean?”
“I bet your dad loves having you with him. And your mom must be so grateful for the daily support. You are a good man, Will.”
“You’re dodging my question.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“No.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’m keeping my emotions and ego in check. You’re in survival mode. Expecting anything from you isn’t fair.”
He squints. “What might you expect from me?”
“Nothing.”
He shakes his head. “If I weren’t in survival mode, what would you expect?”
“I’d expect you to come see me during your visits to Missoula.”
His shoulders relax. It’s not the reaction I expected. “Well, if I weren’t in survival mode, I’d still be living in Missoula.”
“True. Then you’d see your friends more often, and you’d see me just the same as you do now since I’m not living in the shed.” And it’s out. I said the quiet part out loud. I’m good at giving advice, but terrible at doing the right thing.
“You’re upset.”
I shake my head. Lies . . . I’m full of lies.
“I dumped my heart out to you the night before I left, and you said nothing,” he says.
My jaw unhinges. “You told me not to say anything.”
“I didn’t want you shrinking me. But for God’s sake, you could have made some acknowledgment. Instead, you voiced your curiosity about Casey’s girlfriend living with him.”
I’m flabbergasted. No, that’s not a strong enough word. I’m astounded. Thunderstruck. For three months, he’s been harboring his disappointment in my lack of response to the very thing he told me not to respond to?
“Is that why you’ve ignored me?” I almost choke on the words as disbelief jumbles my thoughts.
“No. Yes.” He shakes his head, brow knitted. “No. It’s not that simple.”
“Let’s eat,” Jamie calls into the kitchen.
Will pushes off the counter. As he passes me, I grab his wrist. He stops, and I close my eyes. You’re killing me, William Landry. I’m the dumbest genius in the world for loving you.
Every word stays locked in my heart, and I release him, thinking of Jamie’s advice. Let Will go. No more obsessing. He’ll crush you because he’s still a boy who can’t understand the fragility of a young woman’s heart falling in love for the first time.
“You were my first, but not my last,” I say. “I slept with Casey when he and I dated. And a handful of other men since you. So don’t feel like I will die without you. I’m hopeful. Not hopeless.”
“Hope,” he whispers before rejoining everyone on the deck.
I take a few deep breaths and follow. Why did I want to be included tonight? Will I ever learn?