Swing (Landry Family 2)

“You better fit me in.”

My eyes wet again and he grips the armrests. He’s obviously fighting to keep himself from jumping the desk and grabbing me, but he doesn’t. I’m both thankful and a little disappointed he doesn’t.

“You need to see your family,” I counter. “It’s your thing. You’ve told me stories about football with your brothers and everything.”

“Yeah, they’ll be pissed if I don’t come. But I’m not leaving you.”

“Why do this? I’ve told you this won’t work out between us in the long term. We’re just setting ourselves up for a lot of heartache later.”

“Because,” he says, leaning forward until his elbows rest on my desk, “I care about you. And I know you care about me too. So maybe you are afraid to trust me. I hate it, but I’ll deal. But we’re friends. Hopefully with benefits,” he winks in only the way he can.

My heart nearly explodes as a warmth extends throughout my veins. The twinkle is back in his eyes. Slowly, his hands reach across the desk for mine.

And just as slowly, mine take them and give them a squeeze.

“This is what I was telling you,” I say, our gazes locked together.

“What’s that?”

“You’d be impossible.”

“So you’ll go with me? Or are we staying home?”

I open my mouth and then close it. Then, against the screaming of my brain, I let my heart do the talking. “Let’s go to Savannah.”

As good as it feels to say that out loud, it’s even better to be met with Lincoln’s smile.

Danielle

MY HEAD RESTS AGAINST LINCOLN’S shoulder as the car, driven by one of Barrett’s staff, rumbles down the road. The plane ride to Savannah was fast, uneventful, and quite frankly, the best trip I’ve ever taken. First class and sitting next to him, breathing him in, feeling his touch, watching women beg him for attention while he held my hand was pretty much the stuff dreams are made of.

Lincoln squeezes my hand, our fingers interlocked as they have been since we got in the car. “You okay?”

I’m not sure if I am okay. Right now, I’m perfect. I haven’t felt this excited about something since I was a little girl and I’m not even sure what it is I’m excited about. Spending time with Lincoln? Being a part of something bigger on a holiday? Feeling this happiness in my heart? Maybe some of all of it. But with the good, comes the bad. There’s the unknown of what happens when we get home.

This feels right. Being with him always feels right. But how do you trust your heart when your brain is screaming you know better? When as soon as you start feeling good about things, a photo essay flashes before your eyes highlighting the resemblances in past mistakes and this situation?

The uncertainty of what’s ultimately right, not what feels right at this moment, keeps me wobbly. So I do what any crazy person does: I don’t think about it. Pasting on a smile and reminding myself I’m enjoying this weekend for what it is, I squeeze his hand back.

“I’m good,” I say.

“I hope so. I’m just really glad to have you here.” He brings my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the top. When my phone rings inside my purse, I think about not answering it because it means taking my hand out of his. He seems to figure that out and laughs, using his free hand to unlace ours. “Get it.”

With an exaggerated sigh, I dig through my bag and pull out the glowing device. “Hello?”

“I’m so sorry to call you while you’re on holiday,” Gretchen rushes, “but I have news. Big news!”

“Really?” I squirm in my seat. This can go one of two ways. “What is it?”

“I just got a call from the business office, Danielle. There’s been a donation to the department. Big enough that we don’t have to worry about anything until mid-year next year! We can stay fully staffed and under normal operations for the time being.”

I can hear the emotion in her throat and it causes my own to clench shut. My mind races with all this means—continued service to so many children and their families. A job. Hope.

How did we get so lucky?

“I’m in disbelief,” she chokes out. “I haven’t slept in nearly two weeks. I’m drinking a mai tai to celebrate and then I’m passing out.”

“Who made the donation? We need to thank them somehow.” I glance at Lincoln as he shifts away from me ever-so-slightly. “I feel like a load of stress has just evaporated from my shoulders.”