I nodded, unable to speak because there were tears in my throat.
Derek approached Lizzie to greet her, but she walked past him and came to us. “Hey, Cleo. I picked out these flowers for you.”
“Oh wow, they’re beautiful.” She brought them to her nose to smell before she wrapped her arm around Lizzie and pulled her in for a deep hug. “That was so thoughtful of you, sweetheart. Thank you.”
“Deacon told me that’s your favorite color,” Lizzie said.
“Yes,” Cleo said. “I’m lucky that my husband remembers little things like that.” She patted the seat beside her. “Tell me what’s going on with you. Cleo tells me you’re using that mitt Deacon gave you.”
Lizzie got into the seat and told her all about it.
Deacon sat on the other side of her.
Derek was the only one left out. Like the black sheep, he was banished from the clique. He moved to the armchair on the other side of the coffee table and sat there alone, resting his ankle on the opposite knee, watching the four of us talk like we were a group that he could never join.
We visited for an hour, and Cleo’s infectious personality made it easy to forget her appearance, to forget that her skin was paler than it used to be, that her clothes didn’t fit her the way they did before, that she was fighting for her life…because she smiled like it was the perfect day.
Lizzie left the couch to use the restroom and walked past Derek.
Derek turned to her. “Liz?” He kept his voice low, hoping we wouldn’t hear in the midst of our conversation.
She turned to him and gave him a look I’d only seen a handful of times, a look that said she was seriously pissed. “I’m here for your mom, not you. I told you I don’t like you—and I still don’t.” She continued on her path, ignorant to the scathing words she’d just unleashed.
Derek turned away, trying to hide the pained expression on his face.
“Excuse me.” I went after Lizzie, because I didn’t want her to think that kind of behavior was okay, even if he deserved it. When I moved past Derek’s chair, his hand reached out to mine to steady me.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “She has every right to be angry.” His hand immediately softened once it held mine, like it was the most natural action in the world. When he realized his touch lingered too long, he pulled it away.
“But she doesn’t have the right to be cruel.” I continued to walk and moved down the hallway to reach Lizzie before she entered the bathroom. “Lizzie.”
She halted and turned around, wearing an annoyed expression like she knew what was coming.
“Come on, you can’t talk to him like that.”
“Why?” She crossed her arms over her chest, displaying her full attitude.
“Are you oblivious to what’s going on in that living room?”
“So? He hurt you, Mom—”
“I appreciate your protectiveness. But I’m okay. I want us to be there for Derek. He’s going through a hard time right now, and he’s been punished enough. He broke my heart, but he’s still a good person, and so is his family. We need to be kind. Alright?”
She shook her head. “He hurt me too.”
“I know.” My eyes fell in sadness. “I know, baby.”
“He ruined our Christmas and ruined our lives for months, and now that his mom is sick, we just forget that happened?” she asked incredulously. “Mom, it’s been hell. You haven’t been the same. It’s like he took you away.”
“I know, but I’m feeling better—”
“Whatever. He came in and gave us promises and then just—”
“Liz.” Derek’s voice came from behind me, right next to me.
Lizzie’s eyes shifted to him behind me, her eyebrows furrowing.
He stood with both of us, the first time the three of us had been in the same room in months. He slid his hands into his pockets and looked at Lizzie with a pained expression on his face. “You have every right to be upset, okay? I didn’t keep my promises. You shouldn’t trust someone who doesn’t keep their promises. But you’ll never understand how sorry I am. You’ll never understand how much I wish I could take it all back…and you were still my girls.”
That didn’t tug at Lizzie’s heartstrings at all. She shook her head as she pressed her lips together tightly. “You’re an asshole.” She turned to the bathroom.
I was mortified. “Lizzie!”
“It’s fine.” His hand moved to my arm. “Let her say how she feels.”
She slammed the bathroom door shut.
“It’s not like I don’t deserve it.” He pulled his hand from my arm and slipped it back into his front pocket.
We stood together in front of the bathroom, alone in the hallway, his parents far away in the living room and out of earshot. He leaned against the wall, resting the back of his head against the surface. There were pictures along the hallway, pictures of him and his siblings at different ages. The picture directly next to him was his college graduation. He was decorated in medals and sashes, and he held his diploma while he stood beside his father, who had his arm around his shoulders. He looked totally different. Still handsome, still tall, still fit. But he looked happy, really happy. There was a lighter color to his skin, a brightness to his eyes that seemed to be inherited from Cleo, but not biologically.