How (Not) to Fall in Love(68)

Tears streamed down my face as I watched them leave the room. It was a relief having someone else here, but it shouldn’t be Lucas helping her up the stairs. It should be Dad. But if Dad were here, none of this would be happening.

Toby hovered at my feet, tail wagging.

“Come on, boy. At least I can take care of you.” He followed me into the kitchen where I fed him. I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned off the counters. I heated the leftover enchiladas in the microwave, wondering if Lucas would be so appalled by my mom that he’d leave without eating.

“How often does that happen?” Lucas’s voice startled me from the doorway.

I spun around to face him. “What do you mean?”

He walked toward me slowly, watching me as if I were a trapped animal ready to flee. “How often do you come home to that? How often do you have to help her to bed?”

I focused on Toby, who’d rushed to Lucas as soon as he’d heard his voice.

“Darcy, look at me.”

That was the last thing I wanted to do, but he closed the gap between us and tilted my chin up. “Tell me how often you come home to this.”

“A lot,” I breathed. Tingles ran down my jaw to my neck from his touch. I couldn’t look away from him. “Especially lately.”

He let go of my chin and shoved his hands in his pockets. “She needs help, Darcy. So do you. You can’t do this by yourself.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I just keep hoping…”

“I don’t want to be the one who tells you to stop hoping. But you have to deal with what’s right in front of you.”

“But I am dealing with it.” Anger flashed through me. “I got us extra time to move. I set up the estate sale. I’m going to get us moved.” Tears pushed away the anger and I was crying again. “Once we’re out of here, maybe she’ll stop. When she’s not surrounded by all these…reminders…of what life isn’t anymore.”

His arms were around me before I could say anything else. “I know,” he whispered into my hair. “I know.”

I let myself be held. I’d imagined him holding me a million times, but not for this reason. He still felt amazing. The universe had a cruel sense of irony.

The microwave pinged. I was reluctant to step out of his grasp, but I did. “Dinner is served,” I said, grabbing a dishtowel to wipe away my tears. “Unless you want to blow this pop stand, which I’d totally understand.”

He looked surprised. “Do you want me to go? I thought you wouldn’t want to be alone.”

I focused on using hot pads to pull the casserole dish out of the microwave. “You’ve pretty much spent your whole day dealing with the Covington shit storm. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be on a Saturday night.”

“I chose to spend the day with you. And I’m choosing now to have dinner with you.”

I shrugged like it didn’t matter, but relief washed over me. I didn’t want to be alone. Having him stay was like having a net stretched under the tightrope of my screwed up life.

He found plates and silverware. “Do we eat under the scary chandelier?” He tilted his head toward the dining room.

“No.” That was the last place I wanted to sit. “We could watch a movie or something.” I forced a smile. “Something with lots of explosions.”

“Sure,” he said. “After we eat. I want to talk to you first.” He set the plates on the granite counter in front of the barstools.

Panic washed over me. I didn’t want a serious chat right now. Experiencing my reality was bad enough; we didn’t need to talk about it.

“What about that buddy-flick situation we discussed earlier?” I said, forcing a lightness I didn’t feel into my voice. “I’d rather we didn’t end up in another fight.”

“Not my first choice, either. But we’re still going to talk.”

A huge sigh gushed out of me. “Sometimes I wish I did drink. Now would be a good time.”

He frowned at me. “You don’t really mean that.”

I slid onto the stool next to him, hyper-aware of his closeness. “No, I don’t.” I took a long gulp of water. “How about a smoke instead?”

He almost choked on his water. Once he’d swallowed, he shook his head at me. “You’re not very observant. I quit smoking weeks ago.”

Huh. He was right; I hadn’t noticed. In my mind, he was often leaning against the old brick wall of Charlie’s store, smoking and talking to whoever wandered by. The thought flitted through my mind that he wouldn’t taste like an ashtray. If a person were to kiss him. Not that I’d ever know.

“That’s good,” I said. “One less cancer to worry about when you’re old and gray.”

He narrowed his eyes. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can watch your buddy flick.”

Inhale calm. Exhale stress. “Explosions and car crashes. No buddy flicks tonight. But by all means, let the lecture begin.”

He closed his eyes briefly, frustration etching his perfect face. “I don’t want to lecture you. I just had a suggestion. Maybe a couple of them.”

“Can I ask you something, Lucas?”

He sighed. “Go ahead. I knew you couldn’t just sit there and listen.”