Page 96 of All the Ugly Things
The Chicago Storm was Chicago’s NHL team. I didn’t elaborate. She grew up there.
“Every time you talk about all the good your parents have done, it makes my heart hurt with envy.”
Fuck.There was so much more to say. So much more to tell her. This… hearing this from her waseverything.
I reached over and took her hand in mine. It trembled and was cold and clammy but she squeezed my hand back with a fierce grip.
“Even if Dad hadn’t looked into your past, there is nothing you could have done, nothing that could have happened to you that would surprise him or disgust him. Trust me, he’s seen it all, Lilly.”
She blinked away tears filling her eyes. “I think I’m beginning to believe that.”
Thank God.
I gave her another moment to gather herself and when her grip on mine loosened, I let go. “Ready?”
She turned to me and smiled, with watery but happy eyes for maybe the first time I’d ever seen. “For the first real home-cooked meal I’ve had since who knows when? Yes.”
I climbed out of the truck and hurried around the hood so I could meet her as she opened her door and climbed down.
“What’s your favorite?”
“Favorite what?”
“Food.”
She shrugged. “It’s been so long since I’ve had good food, last week’s dinner an exception of course.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know… I used to love simple food. Spaghetti. Tacos. Burgers. We had a live-in cook who made these crazy extravagant meals where we dined with china and flair. It never… I don’t know. The fancy stuff never tasted as good.”
We were at the door and I reached for the knob. Since Dad knew she was coming, I trusted he’d put away all the pictures of Melissa. I prepared myself for the moment when I wouldn’t see it next to my mom’s in the entrance like I always did.
“Then you’ll love tonight.” I grinned down at Lilly.
“Why?”
“Because Dad’s lasagna is out of this world.”
Her grin was blindingly beautiful, not broken, but genuine.
I opened the door to my childhood home, feeling ten feet tall and like a god among men.
24
Lilly
“Wow.”
The view was gorgeous. A wall of windows overlooking a large deck leading to bright green, rolling hills of grass. The golf course. I saw the country club sign when we pulled in but I hadn’t considered David would live right up against it.
Between the entryway and the view, was cream carpet and dark wood, walnut-colored wood floors with bulky, country or farmhouse type furniture with brandish black knobs. Suede-looking chocolate brown couches filled the massive living room with a vaulted ceiling and floor-to-ceiling rock fireplace. In the very center, above the heavy wood mantle, was a massive television, currently set to a football game.
Next to me, Hudson shut the door and toed off his shoes. I did the same, inhaling the scent of Italian food, heavy on the garlic and spices.
“Do you want me to take your sweater?”
“Sure. It’s warm in here.”
