“The crazy part is, I still wanted to reconcile with my mom, especially after Alastair’s death. She was my mom, you know? The only family I had. I called her, got her voicemail, and left my number. Asked her to call me back because I wanted to talk. She never did.” Jules wrapped her hands tighter around the mug. “My ego took a huge blow, and that was the last time I reached out to her. But if I hadn’t let my pride get in the way…”
“Communication is a two-way street.” Some of my anger faded, replaced by a deep ache for the little girl who’d only wanted her mother’s love. “She could’ve contacted you too. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Honestly, her mother sounded like a piece of fucking work, but I kept that to myself. Don’t speak ill of the dead and all that.
“I know.” Jules sighed. Distress carved tiny grooves in her forehead, but at least she’d stopped crying. “Anyway, enough about the past. It’s depressing.” She knocked her knee against mine. “You wouldn’t make a half-bad therapist.”
I almost laughed at the thought. “Trust me, Red. I’d make a terrible therapist.” I could barely get my life together, much less advise people on theirs. “I just have experience with dysfunctional families, that’s all.”
The doorbell rang.
I reluctantly unfolded myself from the couch to answer the door and returned with two large brown paper bags.
“Comfort food,” I explained, removing the takeout boxes from the bags.
Macaroni and cheese. Tomato soup. Salted caramel cheesecake. Her favorites.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat.” I pushed a container of soup toward her. “You’ll need the energy later. And drink more water or you’ll be dehydrated.”
Jules rewarded me with a tiny smile. “You’re such a doctor.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You take everything as a compliment.”
“Of course I do. I can’t fathom why anyone would want to insult me.” I removed the lid from the macaroni and cheese. “I’m extremely lovable.”
“People who are extremely lovable don’t have to keep saying it.” Jules took a tiny sip of soup before setting it down.
“Most people aren’t me.” I speared a piece of cheesecake with a fork and handed it to her. After a moment’s hesitation, she accepted.
We ate in companionable silence for a while until she said, “I have to fly to Ohio soon. For the funeral. But my graduation is on Saturday, and I have to make the arrangements, and I don’t even know how much flights are. They can’t be that expensive, right? But it’s so last minute. And I have to figure out where I’m going to stay, and I have—”
“Breathe, Red.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, steadying her. She was breathing faster again, her eyes taking on the wildness of overwhelm. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to finish eating, then you’re going to take a shower while I look up flights, hotels, and funeral homes. Once we nail those things down, we can focus on the details. And you are not flying to Ohio until after graduation. You went through three years of law school hell, so you’re walking across that damn stage. Got it?”
Jules nodded, looking too stunned to argue.
“Good.” I handed her the rest of the cheesecake. “Here. That shit’s too sweet for me.”
After we finished eating, she took a shower while I figured out the logistics of her trip. Luckily, flights to Ohio weren’t expensive, and Whittlesburg had a total of two hotels, five bed and breakfasts, and a handful of sketchy-looking motels on the outskirts of town, so it wasn’t hard to narrow the choices down. A quick Google search also turned up a funeral home with good reviews and reasonable prices.
By the time Jules stepped out of the bathroom, I had everything ready to go on my laptop. She gave them a cursory glance before booking.
“Thank you.” She sank onto my bed and ran a hand through her hair, still looking a little lost but more animated than before. “You didn’t have to do all this.” She gestured at my computer.
“I know, but it beats watching some crappy TV rerun for the tenth time.”
Jules snorted. Her eyes fell on my open suitcase and widened. “Wait, your New Zealand trip. I forgot that’s—”
“Not until next week. I leave Monday.” Unease tugged at my gut. I’d been so excited for New Zealand, but my enthusiasm had waned, for some reason.
“That’ll be fun.” Jules yawned. She wore an old Thayer tee of mine that skimmed her thighs, and her damp hair hung in dark red waves around her shoulders.
Of all my favorite sights in the world—the Washington Monument at sunrise, the autumnal blaze of leaves during a New England fall, the expanse of ocean and jungle laid out before me at the end of a long hike in Brazil—Jules wearing my shirt might just be my number one.
“Get some rest,” I said gruffly, discomfited by the strange warmth spiraling through my insides. “It’s late, and you’ve had a long day.”
“It’s nine, Grandpa.” She yawned again.
“Yeah? I’m not the one who looks like I’m trying to catch flies with my mouth.” I shut my laptop and turned off all the lights except for my bedside lamp. “Bed. Now.”
“You are so bossy. I swear...” Yawn. “I don’t know how…” Yawn. “People stand...” Jules’s drowsy grumble grew softer with each word until her eyes fluttered closed.
I tucked her beneath the comforter, keeping my touch gentle so I didn’t wake her. Her skin was paler than usual, and a touch of red still shaded the tip of her nose and the area around her eyes, but she fell asleep insulting me. If that wasn’t proof she was feeling better, I didn’t know what was.
I turned off the remaining light and climbed into bed next to her.
Our conversation from Bridget’s wedding lingered, unresolved, between us. Did our original arrangement still stand, or had we morphed into something else? I had no clue. I didn’t know what the fuck we were or what we were doing. I didn’t know what Jules was thinking.
But we could deal with all that another day.
I curled my arm around her waist, tucked her closer to my chest, and, for the first time since our arrangement started, we slept together.