He winked at me. "It's a date. I'll be here at ten."
I felt myself blush with surprise, certain he didn't mean it like it sounded. "Thanks, Jack."
"Anytime."
Dad and my sisters were quiet, listening to us. Dad looked approving with wall-eyed Rodrigo on his lap shivering, and Beth looked at me like she couldn't understand why anyone would even be talking to me. Mary had an unreadable expression on her face, which she hid behind her wine glass as she took a long pull.
Jack cleared his throat. "Well, I really should head out."
Charlie shot him a look. "Please. Stay for dinner."
"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't want to impose." He flipped Sammy over his shoulder and into his lap to commence his tickling again.
"It wouldn't be an imposition," Mary added sweetly. "We're having roasted chicken, and I'm sure we'll have leftovers for days if you don't stay and eat."
He shrugged. "Twist my arm."
Mary smiled. "Great. Elliot, since you're home, do you mind cooking?"
I smiled back, ignoring the fact that she'd placed that responsibility on me deliberately. I was grateful for another room I could occupy, complete with four walls and no father. The no father part was certain — I didn't think he even knew how to use an oven.
"I don't mind at all," I said as I stood, depositing Maven in Charlie's lap.
"Need some help?" Jack asked.
"Oh, I'll manage."
"You sure? I make a mean herb rub, and I love to help."
I laughed. "Well, if you really want to rub herbs, I won't be the one to stop you."
"Thank you for not dashing my dreams. Lead the way." He extended his hand for me to go first as my immediate family watched, gaping, even the dog. Well, all except for Charlie, who looked pleased as punch.
The kitchen was quiet, and I turned on music as Jack retrieved the chicken from the fridge, making it do a little dance once he got it into the dish. He rolled up his sleeves and melted butter to go along with those mysterious herbs, chatting with me as he rubbed the bird down, all while I peeled potatoes and carrots.
It was nice, the time spent not thinking about Rick, not thinking about my family, just making dinner and laughing with a friend. It had been a long time since a man had been so companionable, putting himself in my space with intention, though I didn't know what exactly that was. I hoped it was just that he knew I needed a friend, because I did. I was certain it was nothing more than that, and that was lucky — I didn't know how to give of myself just then. But deep down, I reveled in the thought of being wanted, of being seen by someone who wanted to see me, who saw me without pain in his eyes. And in that, the moment was a rare gift.
Wade
I stood in the guest room on the lower floor, unable to stop smiling as I shuffled things around to make room for Ben, my surprise over his arrival still fresh hours later. He seemed to be pretty proud of himself for pulling the whole thing off, and so was I. My burden had been lifted by his presence alone.
He looked around the room. "Well, I've gotta say, this is way better than the Airbnb I booked."
"And this way, you're close."
"And fed," he added.
I chuckled as I pushed a couple of boxes into the hallway. "Yes, and fed."
Ben sat on the bed and bounced a couple of times before inspecting the comforter. "So, Elliot's pretty."
"Just gonna jump right in, are you?"
He shrugged. "Would you expect anything else?"
I sighed as I leaned against the doorframe. "No, but I can hope."
"Were you guys somewhere together when you came home or was your showing up together just a coincidence?"
"We were on a walk. An uncomfortable walk."
"Why'd you agree to go if it was so uncomfortable?"
"I asked her in the first place."
One of his eyebrows rose in question.
"I don't even know why I asked her to walk with me. I just …" I pursed my lips, wetting them from the inside. "Everything is just so intense. With Dad, with her. So much has happened, and I can't sort through how I feel about any of it, partly because it changes from one second to the next. Things with her are …" I fumbled for the words again, frustrated that I couldn't verbalize how I felt. "Things are changing, which I knew was inevitable. It's part of why I don't want to be around her. How am I supposed to deal with how I feel about her right now?"
"I don't know, but it doesn't look like you're ignoring them very well either."
"No, I'm not. I want to be around her, but I don't know how. I want to ignore her, but I don't know how to do that either. So I asked her to walk with me and it was a disaster."
"Define disaster. Like, trip-and-fall-with-a-side-of-accidental-groping disaster? Or like a why-did-you-break-my-heart-and-ruin-my-life kind of disaster?"
"Closer to the latter, though with less honesty." I ran a hand over my face, feeling the unfamiliar scratch of stubble against my palm. "I don't know how to hold up the versions of who she was, who she is, and who I remember against each other to figure out what's real."
He nodded thoughtfully. "That's fair. So take it one day at a time and sort it out as you go."
"But today I pushed her. I hurt her. I said too much because I don't know how to be around her. I have too many feelings and none of them agree with each other."
"But you did say you want to be around her, right?"
I thought back to her hands in mine last night, even back to that afternoon when she was pressed against my chest, my words sinking into her heart as I spoke them. "She brought me comfort in a moment when I needed it very much. I can't deny that I still care about her —" The word love was on the tip of my tongue, too strong, too real. "—but I'm still hurt and angry and …" I huffed and ran a hand through my hair. "Nothing makes sense. I'm winging everything."
"You've got to just talk to her."
"Easy. I'll get right on that."
"I mean it, Wade. All that stuff you don't want to say, you've just got to say it, and then you've got to listen to her say all that stuff you don't want to hear."
I squirmed, shifting to offset the feeling. "I don't know how. I've bottled it all up for so long that I don't even know where to begin."
"Well, then you just have to jump." The honesty in his face was a small comfort. He believed his words, and he believed in me, even if it wasn't warranted.
He had faith. I didn't.
"We'll see, I suppose."
"Look, it's the perfect opportunity. She's busy tomorrow, so you've got a whole day to psych yourself up, and then she'll be here the whole day after. There will be time at some point." I must not have looked convinced, because he added, "Just think about it."
I didn't agree, but I didn't disagree, just switched gears to making sure he had what he needed before I ducked out of his room to ascend to mine. As I lay in bed in the dark, I imagined saying all the things I wanted to say, imagined every scenario, and one decision rose to the top of them all: it would have to be said, and it would have to be heard. And I held the power to take that step, even if it took me over the edge and into the sweet darkness of nothing.