My jaw ticks as I think, and after I’ve been silent for too long, Charlie says, “Grey?”
“I—” I cut off, clearing the raspiness from my throat. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” Charlie barks, his voice loud and booming as ever. “That’s why I called now to tell you about it. You certainly shouldn’t be making any decisions yet.”
“Okay,” I say, more to myself than him.
“About visiting…?”
My palm finds the back of my neck, kneading the muscles there. “Labor Day. I can do that,” I tell him. That’s six weeks away, two weeks after Gus’ wedding. I can’t help thinking of the agreement with Finley, my mind relaying all the possibilities of whatfakingcould include over the next month. My skin goes hot, and my blood rushes in my ears at the thought of touching her, of kissing her. Of all the ways it’s going to wreck me at the end. Of how I don’t know how I’ll stand being around her when it’s over.
Maybe this is good. Maybe I can do this with her and leave after, move hundreds of miles away to nurse my broken heart and try to move on. Try to find someone who banishes her memory from my mind, even if I haven’t had any luck yet.
I can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’m excited to see you, son. I think you’ll love it here.”
My heart squeezes. “Me too.” Glancing at the clock on my phone, I say, “Listen, I’ve got to go. I have to get to Jodi’s for dinner.”
“Ah, right,” he responds. “Saturday night.”
Every Saturday since Holden and Finley were kids has been reserved for family dinners. It was the one dinner a week they weren’t allowed to skip to hang out with friends or participate in extracurriculars. It was just for the three of them until they expanded it to include me when Holden and I were in high school. Then there was June, and our group of four became five. And now Wren. With every addition, it’s like we’ve gained someone we didn’t even know was missing. If I were to move, take this job in Maine, it would be the thing I miss most.
I push the thought away, not wanting to dwell on it. “I better get off here, Charlie. Talk to you soon.” I pause, trying to think of how to say everything I’m thinking. I settle on “Thank you for thinking of me.” It’s paltry in comparison to everything I owe him, but I know he knows what I’m not saying.
“Of course, son,” he says, and I’m surprised to hear his voice has softened, even if it’s still not to a normal decibel. “You know I’d love to have you out here. It’s the only thing that could make this place any better.”
His words settle deep in my soul.
“Well, that and sweet tea. The stuff they have here shouldn’t even be called tea.”
This makes a laugh rocket out of me. It pops all the heavy emotions like deflating birthday balloons. “I’m sorry, but that’s a deal-breaker, Charlie.”
The smile in his voice is branded in my memory, even without seeing him. One side of his smile higher than the other. Laughlines etched deep beside his eyes. Sunspots from years without sunscreen. “I’ll make you some tea, son. Just come see me.”
My favorite thing aboutmy mom’s house is that there’s always noise. The soundtrack to my childhood was filled with mom’s singing, Holden and Grey playing video games on the couch, music softly filtering through the walls of my room when I’d forget to turn it off. My life now is so quiet. I still play music in the shop and in my apartment, unable to stand the silence, but there are so few people. I have customers, and Nora will come to hang out while Raj spends the evening solo-parenting their kids, but the rest of the time, everything is so, so quiet. The unbearable kind. There’s no singing in my kitchen, no pattering of little feet on my floors, no bickering or laughter or teasing. It’s just quiet. And it haunts me.
But Mom’s house? Somehow, even when it’s just the two of us here, there’s the kind of noise that fills you up until you’re overflowing. And when everyone is here—Mom and Holden and Wren and June and Grey—I think I’ll never feel lonely again.
That’s how it is now, when I’m the last one to pull into the full driveway and let myself into the packed house. Mariachi music is playing over the speakers, so I know Mom is making tacos, and Ican hear June’s high-pitched giggle the second I open the door. Everything inside me lightens, like fog lifting in the sunshine after heavy rain.
The bathroom door opens next to me, and Grey steps out, his clean linen scent filling the hallway. His eyes flare brighter when he sees me, his mouth quirking up in a grin. “Hello, love of my life.”
I roll my eyes, shove his very firm chest. “Absolutely no one is going to believe you if you act like that.”
“How should I act?” he asks with a lift of his brow. Even that small motion makes the muscles of his face constrict, makes the lone dimple on his left cheek twitch.
I stare up at him, assessing. “You’re normally more…” I trail off, gesturing with my hands, trying to find the words. “With women.”
“More…?” he parrots, mirroring my movements.
“Suave,” I say, choosing the only word I can think of to describe the way I always see him interact with women. He’s charming in all the ways he never is with me, like he’s trying with them but doesn’t feel the need to when he’s around my family.
This makes his smile hitch higher, and just the sight of it makes me start to see what everyone else does. He really can be magnetic when he tries.
“Suave, huh?”
My eyes flick to the ceiling again. “You really are unable to politely take a compliment.”
He bends a little closer, into my space, and suddenly, the air feels thinner, like standing on top of a mountain. “I just don’t get many compliments fromyou, Fin. But keep ’em coming if you want me to be more suave with you.”
