No, not “they,” she realized, watching as Reece found the right key and slid it into the lock. This was all his doing. He paid for the upkeep of his empty childhood home. There was something tragic about that, and her heart melted a little.
Inside, the house wasn’t dusty, but it did smell unused. It was like a time capsule, transporting her twenty years into the past, as if the brothers couldn’t bear to change anything from the way it was the day their parents died.
Reece moved around the living room, turning on lamps, upping the temperature on the thermostat until the heat kicked on. Then he just stood there in the middle of the room, seemingly at a loss.
She wasn’t sure what he expected her to say, so she said nothing and wandered. The stairs to the second floor were positioned at the back of the living room and shared a wall with the dining room, which had a table big enough to fit the entire Wilde family—dad, mom, and all five boys. She imagined dinnertime at that table had been a loud, exasperating, and entertaining family affair.
Colorful marks on the narrow strip of wall between the stairs and the dining room caught her attention, and she moved in for a closer look. A height chart, indicating the Wilde boys’ growth from toddlers to young men. She could track Reece from the time he was a year old, all the way up to the last mark, dated several months before his parents died. He would have been thirteen at the time and looked to have hit a growth spurt, shooting up over his younger brothers, though Greer was still taller than him by quite a bit. Made sense because Greer was a huge guy. Like, intimidatingly big.
She touched that last mark, imagined the two older boys groaning and rolling their eyes as their mother corralled them for the measuring. “You were happy.”
Reece moved up behind her, close enough that the subtle scent of his cologne wrapped around her like a comforting hug. She smiled back at him. “I can tell. You were all happy here.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he also reached out, dragged his fingers along the marks. “We were.”
“I’m sorry that ended.”
“Yeah. Me too.” After another moment, he shook his head and grasped her hand, pulling her up the stairs. On the second floor, he opened the first door they came to and flipped on the light. “This was Greer’s room.”
Like the living room, it looked untouched, as if teenage Greer would be home from football practice at any moment. There were posters of sports icons, and one of Pamela Anderson from her Baywatch days. Several trophies and awards lined the dresser—baseball, football, wrestling. He had pictures of his friends on his desk and nightstand, including several of a pretty blonde girl who must have been his high school sweetheart.
Reece continued on down the hall and opened the next door. “This was the twins’ room.”
Fascinated, she stepped inside and immediately knew which side of the large room was Vaughn’s and which was Cam’s. Cam’s more laid-back attitude showed in every nuance of his side of the room, and he was the kind of teenager who was interested in music and pop culture. Vaughn’s side of the room had a definite counterculture vibe to it with darker colors and Goth-rock band posters decorating the walls.
She picked up a photo of the twins from Cam’s dresser. Teenage Cam was in his usual jeans and T-shirt combo—though the jeans were baggy, more in line with the style of the mid-90s. Teenage Vaughn was dressed head-to-toe in black, wearing a lip ring, spiky black hair, and a bad attitude.
“Vaughn went through a Goth phase,” Reece said from the doorway.
“So did I.” She set down the photo and grinned over at him. “And, you know, I’m not surprised. I can see why the culture would have appealed to him. Vaughn has this natural…intensity. As a teenager, he must have been a hormonal wreck trying to get control of it.”
“He was, but he got over it when he joined the navy. Ended up funneling all that intensity, as you put it, into SEAL training. Probably the only thing that got him through.” He tilted his head to indicate the corner of the room where a pile of hockey gear sat. “But even at his angstiest in high school, he never stopped playing hockey. Both of the twins lived for the game. They were good, too. Dad always fantasized about one or both of them going pro.”
“But they both went into the military instead?”