Life's Too Short (The Friend Zone #3)(52)

I twisted my lips. “Right. Good point. And you don’t own a flannel. How about the one where it’s just our legs and a chalkboard that says, ‘she said yes’? Only we could change it to ‘he took pity on me’?”

He laughed. “And you’re sure that I’m the man for this job?”

“Totally. I’m not explaining my crazy family to someone new. It’s way too much work.”

He laughed again. “Don’t you want to marry for love?”

Yes. That’s why I asked you.

I took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Hey, sorry about your office yesterday.”

He gazed at me with those gorgeous green eyes, and I remembered how he’d gathered my hands in his and my heart had done a somersault.

Adrian never touched me. I mean, of course he didn’t, we were just friends. But it had calmed me down like a gentle whisper for my screaming soul.

I understood why Grace preferred him. His arms were everything safe and whole. And I hated that the only time I got to be in them was when I was breaking my own rules and mourning my own fate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

I paused a moment and looked out the window at the snowy lawn.

“You know how when you ask someone what they’d do if the sun was headed for Earth and they had twenty-four hours left to live? And everyone always says they’d be with family, eat their favorite food, go someplace they’ve always wanted to go? Nobody ever says they’d spend the last day curled up in bed crying—because they wouldn’t. That’s not what anyone wants to do with their final hours.” I looked back at him. “I mean, yeah, you’d cry. And you’d be scared because you’re gonna die. And you’d find yourself looking at the sky throughout the day, knowing what’s coming because that’s just human nature. But for the most part, you’d just enjoy the time you had left. Especially because there’s nothing you could do about it. There’s no escape, nowhere to hide. So why bother? Obsessing over the end is pointless.” I held his gaze. “If you spend your life dwelling on the worst possible thing, when it finally happens, you’ve lived it twice. I don’t want to live the worst things twice. I try really hard not to think about the bad stuff. But every once in a while I’m human and I look up.” I studied him quietly. “Yesterday was just one of those days that I looked at the sun.”

He peered at me, something gentle on his face. “You are a remarkable woman, Vanessa Price, you know that?” he said quietly.

I smiled a little. “We should probably go inside,” I said. “Dad’s waiting.” I grabbed my purse. “Remember, it’s easier if you breathe through your mouth.”

Adrian gave me a reassuring smile and got out of the car.

We stood on the front porch while I knocked and the door opened a few seconds later.

Dad beamed at us with a smiling Sonja right behind him. “Welcome to my humble abode,” Dad said with a flourish. “Please, enter.”

He moved from the mouth of the doorway, and my jaw fell open.

The first thing that hit me was the light. Dad’s house was always dim. It reminded me of the Upside Down in Stranger Things, all eerie and gray. But the entry was lit. Warm. And when I stepped inside, I saw why.

The house was spotless. The cleanest I’d ever seen it. I peered around the living room from the entry in total shock. “Dad…” I breathed.

The piles were gone. All the trash and clutter were gone. I could see carpet—and it was clean. New, actually. I think he’d even painted. The flat-screen TV that had been propped against a wall had been mounted. Someone had framed and hung a painting that Melanie had done in grade school that used to be stuck to the wall with a thumbtack. There was a new-looking playpen next to the sofa with a crocheted baby blanket carefully folded and draped over the side. And the smell—there wasn’t one. Not a bad one anyway. The house smelled like simmering tomato sauce.

I grabbed Adrian’s arm and clutched it like my legs might give out.

Dad stood rocking back on his heels, beaming at the house.

Sonja smiled at me. “We talked a lot about goals. And do you want to know what your dad’s number one goal is, Vanessa?”

I looked at Dad, so overwhelmed I felt out of breath.

He nodded at the playpen. “I want Grace to have sleepovers at her grandpappy’s house.”

I started to laugh. And then, just as quickly, I started to cry.

I don’t think I ever really believed that my family was capable of being okay. In any sense. It’s the thing that terrified me most about being sick, the thing that kept me from being at peace with dying. But maybe Dad could change. And if he could change, maybe Annabel and Brent could too. And if they were okay, Grace would be okay. Then I could go. I could focus on me and what time I had left, if that’s what was happening, and ALS would take one less thing. It would take my life, but maybe it wouldn’t take my family with me when I went.

Adrian leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I thought you said this place was a shithole…”

I did a laugh-cry, and he gave me a sideways hug.

Dad hung up my purse. “I made goulash for dinner, just like old times.”

I blinked at my dad through the tears, standing there in his clean house. And then I cleared the space between us and hugged him.