When the Heart Falls

He narrows his eyes at me, his lips puckered. "You're making that up."

"Oh yeah?" I wrinkle my nose and expose my teeth in my best rat impersonation and start sniffing the air. By the incredulous look on Cade's face, I can tell he thinks I've lost my mind. One more sniff, for good measure. "You're having an argument with your dad."

Cade shakes his head, his face shifting from incredulity to disbelief and shock. "No way."

"I'm right, aren't I? Now just wait, I'm not finished yet." I sniff the air again. "He… he…" I cross my eyes, like a rat in thought. "He doesn't like that you're on this trip."

Cade stares at me. "You're just guessing."

He's been reluctant to talk about his family, but it doesn't take a genius to read between the lines. "No, I'm not, because it's obvious. You used to live with your dad, and no matter how bad things got, you still spoke to each other. Because the alternative was hell. Now, you're finally away from him, so you can ignore him."

Cade waves his phone at me, as if gloating. "It's my mom that called."

"Exactly!" My turn to gloat. "Which is how I know it's your dad you're arguing with."

"You're crazy," he says, but not with conviction. I'm getting to him.

I sniff the air again. "He's angry at you. Angry for leaving. And you… " A few more sniffs. I can tell Cade is trying not to laugh at my antics, but he's also shocked that I'm right. "You feel guilty. What do you feel guilty about?"

All the humor leaves his face and it turns to stone. "Let's just study."

I should stop. I know he doesn't want to talk about this, but we're real friends now and he needs to stop hiding, so I drop the rat act and look him in the eyes, face serious and, I hope, empathetic. "You have a younger sibling. A brother, probably. He looks up to you. You feel guilty for leaving him."

"How do you know that?"

I shrug. I can't tell him the full truth, that his moods have become a part of me, that I'd never act this way with anyone else, but I feel safe with him, like I know him. That I can see into his soul, see his pain, and I would give anything to heal him. "You're very protective. You helped me on the plane, and later when Rodney stepped on my hand. You've always been looking out for someone."

His lips twitch up into a flirty smile. "Maybe I just think you're pretty?"

Heat rushes to my face with his unexpected compliment. Instead of acknowledging his words, I deflect. "Don't try to psychoanalyze the situation, please. Leave that to the professionals."

At least the tension between us is broken as he shifts subjects. "Well, now that you know everything about my family, what about you? How's your family doing?"

"Great. My sister might actually visit me here. I can't wait for you to meet her. She's an archaeologist."

We're staring at each other, and I'm so lost in his eyes that I have to physically stop myself from leaning forward and kissing him.

His hand grazes mine, sliding down my fingers. "How do you do it?" he asks. "Get along with so many people? I see you with Jenifer, how badly she's hurt you and still you're her friend."

We're not talking about my friends and family, but I give him the answer I think he needs. "You forgive them, and you give them a chance to change."

"What if they don't?"

I lift my finger and cover his with it, our hands intertwining while we pretend to ignore it. "You adjust your expectations. I love my sister, Summer, but we never talk about writing. It bores her to death, and that's okay. We talk about something else. I talk about writing with my cousin. There comes a point where you have to accept that people are doing the best they can with what they have, and you have to learn to be okay with it."

"What if I can't?"

"You work harder at it." I pull our linked hands into the air, forcing us to acknowledge that we're touching. "What do you want from your father?"

He looks down at our hands, tightening his around mine as he scoots closer to me. He's fighting his own vulnerability, but when he looks up his eyes are moist. "Acceptance. I want him to accept me as I am, to love me for who I am and not who he wants me to be."

How could anyone not love this man? How could any parent not be proud of what he's accomplished? Of his brilliance and kindness and integrity.

"How do I make him accept me?" His question cuts at my heart. "Can you sniff out the answer to that?"

I wish I could give him an answer that will make him feel better, but I can only give him the truth as I see it. "You don't make him. You can't. You have to accept your relationship as it is. Otherwise… "

"What?"

My heart breaks with his. "Otherwise, you have to end the relationship."