“Aunt Lily and Uncle Jim,” she said. “I’ve seen it, I’ve just never been there myself.”
“So what did you say?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “Which was probably worse than something. I froze up like a popsicle and he hurried and changed the subject.”
“Well, baby, if you don’t feel it—”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “Maybe I do. How would I know?”
I remembered the white-hot rush of emotion that hit me with Ian the second I knew. There was no question in that moment. But all the other moments—the years—prior? I had no idea.
“Trust your gut,” I said. “See if you want to say the words when you look in his eyes.”
Dear God, that sounded gushy coming from me. She must have thought that, too, because she raised an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I know, I rot on this subject.”
Eyebrow back in place, she studied me as she took another sip. “What about Uncle Ian?”
Chapter Twelve
The coffee I was swallowing at that second decided to stop and rethink its direction, and I slapped a hand over my mouth as I coughed and sputtered.
“You okay?” she asked.
I held up a finger as my eyes watered and coffee singed my sinuses.
“I’m good,” I choked.
Holy smokes, she hadn’t mentioned Ian in years. At least not to me. He was her Uncle Jim’s brother, so I guess there was the possibility she’d heard about him from them. Just hearing her call him Uncle Ian, however, made my chest cave in.
“I haven’t heard you refer to him—like that—in a long time.” I said finally, swiping under my eyes.
“That’s what I called him,” she said simply.
“I know that,” I said. “I just didn’t know
you
remembered that.”
“Well, y’all were together for a long time, it seemed,” she said. “Or that’s how I remember it anyway. I remember pretending he was my dad sometimes,” she said, laughing.
I closed my eyes and swallowed a huge gulp of coffee so it would scald me from the inside. Mother of the year. Mother of the year.
“Yeah, we were—something.” I smiled. “He was always there. And he sure loved you.”
“So did you love
him?”
she asked, not willing to be knocked off her line of questioning.
“Did you hear he’s back in town?” I said.
I just couldn’t do it. Say those words about him again. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last time. There had to be some rule about that.
“What?” she said. “Seriously?” Damn, her whole body language went into overdrive. Was there anyone he didn’t affect? On the upside, she forgot about me. “Where?”
“At the butcher shop, helping out for a while. I think he’s staying upstairs again.”
“Holy crap, let’s go,” she said, nearly dumping Gracie on the floor on the way to her feet.
“Uh, no, thanks.” I held up my mug. “I’m good.”
“Mom, I haven’t seen him since I was a little kid,” she said, suddenly sounding like one. “Please.”
When I looked into her huge blue eyes, I knew I was toast. She’d just said it, and it was glowing right out of her. She’d pretended Ian was her dad. He was the only man who’d ever really filled that role. And now she’d mow me over just to get to see him again.
“Go ahead, baby, you don’t need—”
“Please,” she repeated, her voice grown up and serious.
So much for my lazy morning at home avoiding reality. Let’s go traipsing down the most broken path of memory lane I had. Glorious.
“Crap,” I muttered, getting to my feet.
“Do you mind?” she asked, cheesy grin and all.
“Yes,” I said. “But you broke me.”
“Have you seen him?” she asked.
“Couple times, yeah,” I said, going to the kitchen to rinse out our now-unnecessary mugs.
“And?”
I shook my head. “You have me going, I’m not talking, too. Pick one.”
“Going,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Thank you. Oh! What about your date with the vet?”
I gave her a look. “Him, I’ll talk about. Sort of.”
She punched my arm. “So how did it go?”
“He rescued two donkeys.”
She stepped back and looked puzzled. “That night?”
“No, he had them there,” I said. “He rescued them from a neglected farm.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” she said. “Did you take a picture?”
“No, I probably should have.”
I was in the transition stage from worrying about axe murderers to making out at the time.
“Their names are Dolly and Max.”
“Oh, my God, that’s adorable,” she said. “Do I get to meet him?”
“You need to see Duncan too?” I said. “Really?”
“Just eventually,” she said, a cocky grin on her face. “Not today.”
“Let me go change,” I said, trudging up the stairs.
Each step felt like one step closer to falling off the edge of the world.
• • •
I had the oddest thought as I met Abby outside McMasters Meats that I was leading my lamb to the slaughter. She was so excited and even maybe nervous as I watched her pull her bottom lip between her teeth. He’d better not disappoint her again.
“Think he remembers me?” she asked.
Oh, Ian, you motherfucker for walking away from her.
“Yes, he does,” I said. “He’s already asked about you.”
A small smile of relief relaxed her face and she took a deep breath as she pulled open the door.
As usual, the aromas of yum hit us square in the face, but I was too busy scoping out who was behind the counter to pay attention. This late in the morning, the early crowd had come and gone. There was only Mr. Morrison in front of us, and I groaned a little. He was a Chamber nut and was always hitting us up for something. Or complaining. Mostly that.
I didn’t see Ian, and I saw the disappointment in Abby’s eyes. Mr. Morrison left with a nod, clearly not up for his usual pitch, and that brought us to Lily.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Lily said with a smile. “What are you up to today?”
“Not much,” she said. “Running errands before work tonight.”
“What’s with Mr. Morrison?” I whispered. “He didn’t say a word.”
“He has a hemorrhoid,” Lily said, eyes wide.
“Oh,” Abby and I said simultaneously, with probably the same recoil on our faces.
“Yeah,” Lily said. “Bartenders, hairstylists, evidently butchers’ wives—we all get to hear the goods.” She peered at the meager deli remains. “Y’all want something? There’s not much.”
“Nah,” Abby said. “Hey, I saw Aaron the other night.”
Lily grinned. “Yeah, he told me. At the Grille?”
“Yep,” Abby said. “He and his girlfriend. He said he’s starting classes in the fall?”
“He is,” Lily said. “Or that’s the plan. Amber’s jumping on the summer sessions, but she’s like that, you know,” she finished, laughing.
“Yeah,” Abby said, nodding along.
As usual, she had nothing in common with her younger cousins. She couldn’t talk college because she wasn’t in that world. She had more in common with the older lot. People who had to work hard for what they had. But that had been her choice.
I glanced into the window of the back kitchen, still not seeing Ian. Good for me, disappointing for Abby.
“Is Uncle Ian here?” she asked.
My stomach twisted on the term again, and Lily darted her eyes to me.
“He’s upstairs,” she said. “We finished up the morning rush and he went up to clean up.”
“Can we go up?” she said, sounding so much like the little girl she once was.
Up? No. No, no, no. The last time I’d been up—
“I don’t care,” Lily was saying. “Just knock,” she said, laughing.
I stared at her. It wasn’t a dig toward me. She didn’t even know about that. No one did, as I’d been too mortified to tell anyone. All anyone else knew was that he had left.
“Cool, come on,” Abby said as Lily raised a hinged part of the counter to let us through.
Lily looked at me as I passed. “Why don’t you go on up, Abs,” Lily said. “Me and your mom can chat down here.”
Damn, I must have looked bad. In any case, that would work. But Abby wouldn’t hear of it.
“No, I want you with me,” Abby said, grabbing my hand.
“The things we do for our children,” I muttered. Abby laughed, but she had no idea.
Walking through the kitchen, I glanced to my left at the wall he’d pressed me against—yesterday? Jesus, that was just yesterday. But I’d take a whole week in that kitchen over where I was going. At the base of the stairs, I broke out in a sweat.
“God, I haven’t been up here in years,” she said. “We’d hang out up here sometimes in the summertime, but that seems like a hundred years ago. Uncle Jim would threaten to hang us by our toes if we messed anything up.” She looked back at me with a wry grin.
“We
meaning Aaron. He was always stirring up trouble.”
He came by it honestly, on his uncle’s side. I gripped the railing with a sweaty hand and concentrated on my breathing. My heart was going to explode. Could that happen? Could a human heart pound so hard and so fast that it literally exploded? I was about to find out.
“Speaking of, I bet Aaron left out the part of the story where he was trying to buy drinks with a fake ID.”
“Really?” I managed, patting at my face.
“Yeah, but I gave him the eye and he told me I wasn’t cool anymore.”
“Break your heart?”
“Deeply.” She looked at me as we reached the top. “You okay? You don’t look so okay.”
I was five seconds away from hurling. There were three rooms along the hallway. Originally there’d been four and a bathroom, but Ian’s dad had renovated one of them to incorporate the bathroom and make a true apartment out of it. Ian had lived there for five years.
I gave her a thumbs-up. “All good,” I breathed. “Groovy.”
“Is this weird for you or something?”
I chuckled. “Just knock already.”
Her concern for my well-being over with, she blew out a breath and knocked, then stepped back. I was even farther back. Like nearly hovering over the stairway. There was probably nowhere on the planet that I wanted to be less.
And when the door opened to Ian in jeans and an open button-down shirt, I cursed under my breath and looked away.
There was a questioning look when he first put eyes on Abby. Automatically, he reached to fasten a button, unsure of the appropriateness of this young woman he didn’t immediately recognize. Then he saw me back there lurking and gave her a double take. The tears that instantly filled his eyes did me in the rest of the way.
“Hey, Uncle Ian,” Abby said, her tone uncharacteristically shy.
I clapped a hand over my mouth before I could give myself away by dissolving into tears. Ian whisked tears away and ran his fingers through his wet hair.
“Holy shit, Sparky,” he said under his breath, taking her in his arms for a giant bear hug.
Abby was laughing as he rocked her back and forth, but I couldn’t see them clearly. Hot tears were pouring out of my eyes, which was a cruel prank to play on me.
What the hell.
I didn’t cry. Ian didn’t cry. But there we were, leaking all over the floor over one certain young lady.
“Wow, I haven’t heard that name since—”
—the day you and Ian made pancakes.
Ian cut off her sentence, backed up and held her at arm’s length. “My God, look at you,” he said, letting go of her to wipe his face again. “All grown up—you’re just as beautiful as I thought you’d be.”
“And I thought you’d be old, but you look all right,” Abby said, making him laugh. That was her way. Break down an awkward situation with humor.
Laughing and stepping to the side, he motioned us in. “Come in,” he said, buttoning the rest of his shirt. One look at me taking root in the hallway, however, and he covered the distance to loop an arm around my neck and pull me to him before I could form the thought to move away. “Thank you,” he whispered in my hair.
“This was all her,” I said, hating the wobble in my voice. I held my palms against his chest and stepped back. “She did everything short of dragging me behind her car to get here.”
“Come in?” he whispered. “Please?”
His eyes were pleading, but it was Abby standing in the doorway that saved me.
“Mom, it’s okay,” she said, her expression wise beyond her years. “I’m gonna visit for a while. I’ll meet you across the street in a little bit.”
She was releasing me. Oh, thank God.
“Savi.” He ran a hand over his face, pulling his pride back together.
“I have to get to work,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. I stepped back again, out of his reach, and focused on her. “Have a good visit, boo.”