For Lucy
“What’s up with the mood?”
She doesn’t want to get me started on all the reasons for my mood.
“No mood. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” I toss the rest of my shitty, over-cooked burger in the trash. Josh cooks everything extra well done. “And I have a kitchen to clean up. I’ll have a fire to extinguish in the pit, crumbs around the pit to sweep up. And I need to do a load of laundry because I’m running out of work pants to wear. Did I mention I want to spend some time with Lucy too?”
And I’m going to have fucking pizza delivered because germaphobe Josh charred my dinner, but she doesn’t need to know that. I’ve said enough.
When Tatum doesn’t say anything, I head upstairs to shower. By the time I towel off my hair, slide on a tee and sweatpants, and jog down the stairs, Lucy’s reading a book in the living room and the kitchen is clean.
“Please don’t tell me you cleaned the kitchen,” I say to her.
“Mom and I did it together after Josh left.”
“Josh left without your mom?”
Lucy nods, keeping her focus on her book.
“Is your mom still here?”
“She’s out back, covering the firepit and sweeping the crumbs.”
I’m an asshole.
I sigh, pulling on my hoodie. “I’m going to see if she needs any help, then you’re going to tell me all about your appointment.”
“Sounds good.”
After shoving my feet into a pair of loosely laced tennis shoes, I step out back. Tatum glances over her shoulder at me while she finishes sweeping.
“I wasn’t complaining to make you stay and clean up.” I squat down by her feet and hold the dustpan while she sweeps the pile into it.
“No? Could have fooled me.”
Standing, I take the broom from her and return it to the garage. When I return, she’s not here.
“Did your mom leave?” I ask Lucy when I get back inside of the house.
Lucy shakes her head. “She’s putting clean sheets on my bed.”
“Well…” I take a seat on the sofa “…tell me all about your appointment.”
She grins, curling her long hair behind her ears and telling me all about electrical stimulation and how it might help her walk again. I eat up her words and savor every second of her enthusiasm. I have no doubt that she will walk again. My Lucy is a fighter. As we’re talking, Tatum slides past the living room and goes upstairs; I’m not sure why until she comes back downstairs with a laundry basket of my dirty work clothes.
I cringe, but I don’t move because Lucy is still telling me about her appointment. When she’s done, I kiss her on the cheek. “I’m so excited for you, Luce.”
“Josh said it will be a game-changer.”
I smile through my bitter response to his name. “Sounds like a game-changer. I’m going to check on your mom.”
Down the hallway, Tatum’s in the laundry room loading my dirty clothes into the washer.
“I’m an asshole. I admit it. You’ve made your point. Now go home to your boyfriend.” I grab the laundry detergent and take the empty basket from her hands.
“I have no point, Emmett. You need help, so I’m helping.”
“I don’t need help.” I dump the detergent into the dispenser and start the washing machine. “I just needed to vent because …” I turn and lean against the washing machine, wearing a frown. “Because I’m an asshole.”
“Let’s get my house ready for Lucy so you don’t have to come home to a dirty kitchen.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? Me? Josh?”
“Yes … no.” I run my hands through my damp hair and lace my fingers behind my neck on a long sigh.
“It’s Josh,” she says.
I blink and hold my tongue.
“All the more reason to have Lucy at home with me.”
“She wants to stay here. Maybe you and Josh should hang out at your place. I’m perfectly capable of helping Lucy. She can get on and off the toilet by herself. The shower is wheelchair accessible. I’m not implying she doesn’t want your help, but she can manage while you have your Josh time.”
Tatum plants her hands on her hips. “It’s not just about us having time together. It’s the fact that he loves Lucy too, and he wants to spend time with her.”
“Fine. How about he stops by once a week for a visit?”
She scoffs. “Once a week? That’s ridiculous. He’s going to want to see her more than once a week.”
There are no words to articulate the anger I have boiling inside of me at the moment. “So we agree … it’s ridiculous to restrict someone to only seeing her one. Fucking. Day. A. Week?”
Tatum flinches as my words awaken the obvious.
“That’s …” She shakes her head. “Different.”
“Because Josh isn’t responsible for Austin’s death?”