The Crush (77)

As each day went by, each week passed, and there wasn’t so much as a whisper of Emmett leaving Ft. Lauderdale, I settled a little bit further into a pouty little cloud of self-pity.

I was Eeyore, with a better rack and longer legs.

Even the hope he gave me at the beach house was a double-edged sword because I started imagining things.

That wasn’t to say that I regretted being available for my family. I’d been here more than I thought. Kendall and Casey had stepped up so much at work, I gave them both raises and added responsibility at the office.

With Greer and Cameron doing a huge job about two hours away, Poppy back in school, Parker starting his own season in Portland, and Ian still based in London, Erik and I were the ones coming home to help where we could.

And Erik was out of commission for long trips until Lydia gave birth. She’d started some Braxton-Hicks contractions on his last trip home, and it freaked him out so badly, he said he’d only go four hours away from her if it was an emergency.

But I didn’t mind picking up the extra slack at the house. If anything, it kept my mind off all the shit I couldn’t control. That list was about two miles long.

If missing Emmett wasn’t enough to have me all mopey, I was still trying to make peace with what Tim was facing.

His cancer was back—in his lymph nodes, some new growth in his lungs, and a few spots on his bones that they didn’t like. But that wasn’t why they’d called the meeting.

This time around, there would be no chemo. No radiation.

Poppy cried for two weeks straight.

Cameron and Erik and my oldest stepbrother, Ian—patched in on Zoom from London—all took the news with stoicism. Greer and I clutched hands on the couch. And Parker … he wasn’t handling it well. He’d hardly been home since Tim told us his wishes.

I’d never known my youngest stepbrother to be angry, but he sure as hell was now.

My presence at home wasn’t just about helping. It was trying to keep everyone together. And I did okay with that until Emmett’s face was plastered all over the damn TV. Or he was sending sweet, thoughtful deliveries that he knew would bring a smile to my face.

When that happened, I fought the mightiest of battles between my brain and my heart again.

The pundits kept talking, and when they switched the camera back to the field, I stood off the couch and disappeared onto the back porch. Tampa’s offense would take the field first, so I knew I wouldn’t miss Emmett’s plays, but I needed some air.

I sank into one of the rocking chairs and dropped my head into my hands.

The door opened, and when I heard the short, shuffling steps, I knew it was Tim. My eyes burned immediately. “You don’t need to come here and check on me,” I said quietly. Lifting my head, I watched him lower himself carefully in the seat next to mine. “You can stay in your chair if you want.”

He waved that off. “I’ve been in that chair for days. I think I’ll want to burn it by the time I finally croak.”

I smiled sadly. He was making those jokes more easily now, like it didn’t feel like a knife going straight through my ribs every time. “I think we’ll make a shrine of it.”

Tim groaned, settling his already thinner frame into the chair. “Please find something better than that ugly thing.”

Turning my head to the side, I watched him. I loved him so much. He was steady and serious, told the absolute worst dad jokes in the world, and he’d never been the most handsome guy in the world—slightly thinning hair as long as I’d remembered, and a belly he could never quite get rid of. Until he was sick, then it disappeared. But in him, I’d always seen the very best kind of husband and father.

He loved us so well.

“I think with all the builders in this family, we’ll be able to make you something good,” I said quietly.

He closed his eyes. “That sounds nice. Make sure Ian comes home for that, okay? And Parker doesn’t keep acting like an asshole.”

I snorted. “You think I can control my brothers?”

Tim opened his eyes and settled his warm gaze on me. “They all listen to you, Adaline. You know that.”

My face went warm. “No, they don’t.”

He hummed. “Sure they do. When your mom and I first got married, I remember thinking that she had such an easy way about her. She didn’t yell or scream or holler, but the people around her listened all the same because they could sense how much she loved them.” He smiled. “You’ve got that too. You took care of everyone, didn’t matter if they were older or younger, because that’s what you’re good at.”

“Everyone needs a talent,” I said lightly.

But he didn’t smile. “I just want to make sure you’re not here taking care of everyone to your own detriment.”

I forced a smile. “I’m not.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Adaline Marie.”

“I’m not lying,” I hedged. “I want to be here. I like cleaning up the house so Mom can take care of you. I like taking you to your doctors’ appointments. Making dinner so she doesn’t have to think about it.”

His eyes were so kind, filled with the type of wisdom that cut through every ounce of bullshit like a knife. “You love that boy, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” I whispered. My eyes spilled over.