And I hadn’t even thought of what it meant for him. That remembering meant rememberingeverythingall over again.
It was cruel.
There was a knock at the door before it opened, and Nurse Emily walked in with her tablet, midway through a bite of banana.
The moment Pops looked away, I turned toward the window. I wasn’t sure what would show on my face, but the quivering in my jaw told me I was seconds from losing it.
I kept my gaze fixed on the morning sun, the clear, early-summer day.
I was vaguely aware of voices and movement around me, but I didn’t look. I didn’t want to see Ireland see me failing right now.
Knowing I’d choked was enough.
“You got demons, boy?”
I didn’t even startle, just slid my gaze to the older man beside me.
His longish, graying hair was a mess, and it seemed hiscrayons were out of their carton, forming a weird lump in the breast pocket of his linen shirt.
Beck Sewell’s blue eyes, though a little less vibrant than his daughter’s, were familiar as they stayed narrowed on me. I finally managed a deep breath, his scrutiny better for my nerves right now than compassion would’ve been.
“Hey, Dad,” Ireland said carefully from behind us. “Where are you heading?”
He scowled at her, and I tensed, turning so I could see her, but she didn’t react at all.
“Nosy kid,” Beck gritted out, tapping his fingers against his breast pocket.
“Mr. Beck’s counseling session got moved to this morning after breakfast,” Nurse Emily said with a grim expression.
Ireland gave her a sympathetic look, then turned back to Beck. “Sorry, Dad.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then visibly relaxed.
I knew the feeling.
“It’s okay, Dancing Queen. Sorry for the, uh… grumpies.” He flicked a glance to Pops, then scowled again. “Willie, what are you doing sitting there morose as fuck? Let’s go get breakfast before the chocolate milks are gone.”
Ireland’s eyes widened, and Pops sighed heavily.
Nurse Emily said something to me on her way to Pops, but I couldn’t really understand it, so I just smiled vaguely at her and went back to watching the two people at the table.
Ireland had just put her phone back down after she finished typing something on it, and a few more beats of silence passed before Emily asked Pops if he wanted to eat here or at the cafeteria with Beck.
He answered, but I couldn’t hear it, and she helpedhim up. She subtly offered him his cane, and he took it, a deep frown on his face. His steps were slow and stilted as he made his way to me. I tried to catch his gaze, but he didn’t look up from the floor as he squeezed my arm for half a heartbeat.
It felt like an apology and a goodbye.
Then he turned and headed out the front door with Beck and Emily.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there looking at the shut door, but eventually a familiar touch warmed my lower back, and Ireland guided me out of the apartment.
The June sun was relentless as we slowly rolled through the courtyard. My hair stuck to my forehead, and I pushed it out of the way. The sounds from the fountain that had been so soothing yesterday turned stifling, and when a strand of hair stuck stubbornly to the front of my glasses again, it was the last straw for my nerves.
Muttering a curse, I tore my glasses off my face and pushed my hair back viciously. Sweat dripped down my temples, and I bent my neck, wiping my forehead on the sleeve of my T-shirt.
“I miss my flannel.”
“I miss your flannel too. It completed the Clark Kent thing you’ve got going on. TheSmallvilleversion, of course.”
