He eyed me and hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting.”
“How do you know each other?” I asked, wanting to change the subject but also dying to know the answer.
“Oh, that’s a story,” he said with an airy chuckle. “Oneof my favorites. Ireland had just moved here, and I was visiting Aunt Ari and Uncle Gi?—”
He stopped suddenly, his eyes dimming as something heavy pressed in on him. For several moments, he seemed to sink into it, but then, with a deep breath, he smiled sadly at me. “It’s a good story. Maybe one that she can relay to you sometime soon. I’m afraid I’m not up for it at present.”
The urge to hug this guy was nearly overwhelming, but before I could act on it, a deep voice cut in as someone joined us by the doors.
“Ti Bet. I’ve been looking for you.”
A set of muscular arms slid around Liem’s shoulders as the stranger pulled him back against his chest. He nuzzled into him briefly, then released him with a kiss on his cheek. “You left me,” he said in an accusing tone.
“You found me,” Liem countered.
The new guy’s soft expression fell away as he turned to me, though it wasn’t unfriendly. Just… guarded.
He was just as striking as Liem, but in a different way, and had shorter, lighter hair and a serious expression.
“Cody, this is my new friend Adair,” Liem said, nodding to me, the heaviness in his eyes already lessened.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, and Cody returned the sentiment, tucking Liem under his arm.
We walked as a group to the table where Ireland was sitting with her dad. She hadn’t gotten food yet, but Mr. Sewell was digging in to his.
Delly met us at the table, a small frown on her face. “They said Pops wasn’t feeling well. He’s upstairs napping.”
We shared a heavy look. It was a daily struggle to get used to grief and gratitude holding the same place. He was struggling, but we were here to see him through it.
“We’ll check on him after lunch,” I assured her.
Everyone else headed toward the food, but when Ireland didn’t get up, I tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I get you something while I’m over there?”
She and Beck both looked up at me, and my eyes flitted between them.
“Another slice of cake,” Beck said.
Ireland turned toward him with a frown. He looked like he was searching his memory for something, but after a few moments, he gave up with a shrug and pushed his plate away.
I smiled at him, but he didn’t see it. “Sure thing, Mr. Sewell.”
He ignored me as he whipped a carton of crayons from his breast pocket and started doodling on a napkin.
“And you?” I asked Ireland.
She shrugged. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll get something in a minute.”
“Okay,” I said, and Mr. Sewell looked up from his doodles and looked directly at me, then back down, then back up again.
Was he… drawing me?
He cocked his head to the side, sending his wavy, silvery hair swaying, studying me intently.
When he went back to drawing again, I shared a look with Ireland, who offered me another shrug.
But when I smiled and shrugged back, she smiled too.
And that felt like the biggest victory.
