“I like that. Grams said she asked Stevie Nicks if she’d come, but she couldn’t.”
“Really?” Brady said, looking to me. I nodded. He snapped his leather bands,and I silently begged him not to promise anything he couldn’t make happen. He seemed to read me, or maybe he just knew. Either way, he didn’t say anything else about it.
“Okay,Chiquita, go brush your teeth, wash your face, and put your pj’s on,” I said, pulling the pajamas from a drawer and handing them to her.
She grabbed them and stopped at Brady. “You can play my keyboard if you want while you wait.”
Then, she headed down the hall to the bathroom.
“You don’t have to stay up here. I’ll be down in a minute,” I told him.
“I’m good,” he said.
I couldn’t stop my gaze from slipping down to his lips which quirked up at my stare. I turned and headed to the bathroom to help Hannah.
I was in the middle of brushing her hair when the first chords of music hit us. It wasn’t a tune I knew. The notes were opposing. Cheerful bells followed by deep sweeps. Strong emotions battling it out. It was everything I was feeling. The two sides of my soul roaring at each other.
Hannah barely let me finish the last stroke before pulling herself away to join Brady at the keyboard. He looked ridiculous scrunched up on the stool made for a five-year-old, knees spread wide because they didn’t fit underneath the stand the keyboard was on. Hannah stood next to him, one hand on his shoulder as she reached out her right hand and placed them at the very top of the keys, adding a little trill to his notes. It sounded like dancing fairies.
Brady smiled down at her, the glow of the lava lamp hitting his face and turning it soft and warm as if bathed in candlelight. He and Hannah seemed to speak without words as both of their fingers moved along the keys until they suddenly both stopped. He looked awed by my five-year-old, as if she was made of spun gold. I thought maybe she was.
“Okay,” I cleared my throat. “Say goodnight.”
She flung her arms around him, my hugger of a daughter holding on with all her might, but his only reaction was to pull her tighter to him. So tight her toes lifted from the ground. He closed his eyes, holding on for a second before setting her back down.
She kissed his cheek, and his fingers traced it.
“Night, Brady,” she said before slipping into her bed.
I tucked her in, making a little phyllo roll, and kissed her forehead. “I love you to infinity and back,” I told her.
“I love you even more, Mommy.”
Molly jumped up between us, and Hannah patted the dog’s head before Molly curled up at her feet.
I left the door a little open so I’d remember to turn off the lava lamp and then headed back downstairs with Brady on my heels like Molly normally tagged after Hannah. My heart was in my throat. Ready to escape.
I didn’t know what to do when I hit the living room. Invite him to sit? Ask him to leave? I stood awkwardly, arms wrapped around me, swaying.
“What was that song?” I asked.
“Nothing yet,” he said casually.
“Wait. You just made that up? Then how did Hannah know what to play?” I asked, stunned.
“I guess she just played what she felt,” he answered.
I just stared, the dancing fairy notes echoing in my head. She’d been so serious for weeks now. The laughter gone. No more Hulk tackling me to the ground. And in waltzed Brady O’Neil and drew her back into the light.
It hurt and healed all at once. I wanted her to be rebounding. I wanted her laughter and joy filling the house. I tried not to take it personally or beat myself up over the fact that I hadn’t been able to do it for her. Just like Grams had been the one to help me instead of my mom. Sometimes we needed something our parents couldn’t see. For Hannah, I was sure that my suffering had been shading the house in blue and black. There was no way I’d been the light.
But Brady was almost pure light. The visions of him on canvas with his whiskey eyes dancing in the brilliance of the Chinese lanterns washed over me again. An image that would be forced out of me before too long. It was calling to me.
Like him.
He stepped toward me, and I didn’t back away. He grabbed my arms, pulling them from my waist to surround his while his hand went to the back of my neck, tugging me into him. He stared down into my face, a look we’d been sharing all night. Warnings. Acceptance. Pleas. Answers.
“May I kiss you?” he asked softly.
