Until May (Until Her/Him)

“So you moved all your stuff to her house?” she asks, and May giggles.

“I’m gonna change the sheets on the bed.”

“Do you have extra sheets?” Bridgett asks, and I narrow my eyes on her.

“Be grateful I have a bed.”

“I was just joking,” she mumbles, taking another sip of her drink.

“Ignore him.” May pats my sister’s leg, then gets up off the couch. “I’ll help you.” She bypasses me and heads down the hall to the bedroom, waiting for me to enter the room before she shuts the door.

“Don’t start,” I tell her, then walk to the bed and start stripping off the sheets.

“She’s your sister,” she says quietly, walking around to the opposite side of the mattress. “I know you’re still mad at her, but she’s going through something difficult and needs your support right now.”

“Babe, did you forget what happened just a couple of weeks ago?”

“I haven’t.”

“Neither have I,” I bite out.

“I’m not discounting your feelings, honey. I’m just saying cut her some slack for now.” She walks around to where I’m standing and wraps her arms around my waist. “It’s sweet that you’re letting her stay here.”

“Yeah,” I grunt, and she tips her head back to smile at me. I let out a long breath as I look into her eyes. “You’re so sweet, so fucking good, and I don’t want you hurt, not even your feelings.” I give her a squeeze. “I know my sister and I doubt she’s had an epiphany and is going to change her ways.”

“She could.”

“Don’t count on that, baby. It will only lead to you being disappointed and your feelings being hurt worse.”

“I’m stronger than you give me credit for, and there is only one person who could really hurt me, and that’s not your sister, your mother, or your dad,” she says, and my hold on her tightens.

“I’d never fucking hurt you.”

“Then stop worrying about me so much.”

“That’ll be about as easy as not taking a breath.” I watch her face get soft.

“Try.” She leans up to kiss me, then grabs the sheets we took off the bed. “I’m going to put these in the washer and check on your sister.”

“Sure.” I watch her leave the room, then shake my head and get to putting a new set of sheets on for Bridgett.

“WHAT KIND OFwine does your sister like?” May asks, and I drag my eyes off the road for a brief second and look over at her.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I’m going to order some groceries for her and have them delivered. That way she doesn’t have to leave the house tonight.”

“Babe.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I’ll just order a few different kinds, so she’ll have options,” she mutters, and I shake my head. When we left Bridgett at my place, she was passed out on the couch in the living room. I still don’t know what led to Conner telling her that he wants a divorce, but I imagine the two of them would have a million reasons why they should end their relationship. “Are you going to tell your dad about your sister?”

I let out a breath at that question, because it’s something I’ve asked myself a few times since we left her at my place and went home to check on the animals before getting ready to go see him. “I’m not sure she wants anyone to know, and I don’t think it’s my place to share that news.”

“You’re probably right,” she says quietly as I turn down my parents’ driveway and look at her when she goes quiet, noticing her brows are drawn together.

“What are you thinking about?”

“That she’s all alone.” She turns to face me. “If I were going through a situation like hers, I would have a dozen people around me, if not more.” She licks her lips. “Does she have friends she can call for support?”

“I don’t know, baby. She and I aren’t close, so I don’t know her friends like that. But my guess is the people she’s surrounded herself with are not the kind of people you’d call when you’re down. Unless you want everyone to know your business and to talk shit about you behind your back after they pretend to feel bad for you.”

“Now I want to cry.”