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One, Rachel Footit remained a looker. Every man in the place noticed her. Both sisters were gorgeous. They always had been.
But while one knew and worked it, the other—who was infinitely more appealing, in my opinion—didn’t even see it. Addy’s pretty head was too full of music and plans. Or it once had been.
Now it seemed to be filled with wrong thinking. Case in point, I was back, but not with her right now. Something I sure as shit planned to remedy carefully and methodically. I wasn’t going to lose her a third time.
Secondly, Rachel was burdened by her grief. Her slender shoulders were slumped as if the weight of the world were upon them, and her blue eyes were clouded with sadness.
“Hey, Rach,” I called out and waved.
She spotted me, and when her gaze connected with mine, her sorrow sliced through me like a blade.
“Barry.” She breathed out my name as I stepped around the small table for two to meet her. “I thought you were dead.”
“Apparently not, or I wouldn’t be here with you.”
“I feel dead.” She let out a heavy exhale.
“You look like shit,” I said, giving it to her straight.
She scoffed. “I feel like it.”
Rachel and I never had trouble being honest with each other. I hoped that would continue. I needed to know exactly what was going on with Addy so I could fix it.
“Hug?” I held out my arms and crooked my fingers.
“Yes, please.”
She walked right into me without stopping until she face-planted in my chest. I folded my arms around her.
“God, I missed you,” she said after a long moment where she relaxed—collapsed—in my arms.
“Missed you too.” I pressed a kiss into the top of her hair, avoiding her messy topknot.
“So, you’re back?”
“Obviously.” I tried to inject some lightness into the moment. I felt like we both needed it.
“What about your wife and son?” She peered up at me.
Rachel and I had kept in touch through emails until Katy had discovered them and insisted that I end my correspondence with Rachel—like all things related to Addy.
“I’ve been divorced a while.” I gave Rachel the squint eye. She knew that. When I’d come stateside, I’d resumed communication. “Tommy’s great. He’s attending Southside High.”
“He might know my Claire.”
“He might,” I said noncommittally. What Tommy had shared about Kyle and Claire was confidential.
Rachel narrowed her gaze on me. “Why call me for a reunion and not include Addy?”
“Addy didn’t mention me being back in town?” I asked, studying Rachel carefully. When I’d called to set up our meeting, I’d been careful not to break Addy’s confidence, but secrecy wasn’t part of my strategy.
“No.” Rachel shook her head, and her topknot listed to one side. It didn’t look any more secure than she was emotionally. “But she doesn’t share a lot. She’s afraid I’ll break if she lays anything too heavy on me.” Her mouth twisted. “Once that wasn’t true. Now she’s probably right.”
“I’m so sorry about Daniel.”
Her eyes turned misty. “I got your flowers and your note. It was very kind and much appreciated. I just haven’t gotten around to sending out thank-you cards for condolences.”
“You had a big shock and a major life change.”
