“Do you know if your mom told your dad about that day?”
She shrugs. “I truly don’t know. Things kind of blew up after that.” She stares into the distance as she licks her dry lips. “Before I snuck out that night, I stumbled onto them talking in the kitchen. It was unusual for my mother to raise her voice, so I was surprised when her shouts vibrated my chest.”
“They would not have stayed mad at each other for long. They loved each other too much to waste time fighting.” Hating the sad expression on her face, I tug her under my shoulder and press my lips to her temple.
The tension strangling my heart slackens when she signs, “Kind of like us, hey?”
“Yes, exactly like us.”
MR. AND MRS. GREGG’ S wake is as subdued as their funeral. There’s just one difference this time—a special guest has made an unexpected early trip home. The tubes from Joey’s chest have been removed, and the staples from his collarbone to the end of his ribs have begun healing, but he’s still as white as a ghost, and he’s lost a bit of weight as well.
“Hey, pipsqueak.” He messes my hair before pulling me into his chest for a halfhearted hug, then he strays his eyes to Melody standing next to the dining table laden with food. “How’s our girl doing?”
Not a pang of jealousy hits me from him calling Melody ‘our girl.’ He’s never been a threat to my friendship with Melody, and he won’t be now that we’re more than that.
“She’s okay. She is strong.”
“‘Cause her daddy taught her to be.” My lips lift into a smirk of agreement. “Do you think she’s up for this?” When I drift my eyes to his, he waves his hand down his chest. “I debated coming, but Dr. Giorgio thought it would be good for us.” The burn of moisture in his eyes is felt by mine. “I didn’t want this, BJ. I was happy to wait.”
“I know that, Joey, and so does Melody. She doesn’t blame you for any of this. She’s actually glad her parents’ legacy gets to live on in some way.” With that in mind, I stand from my chair before guiding Joey toward the dining table. He’s a little weak on his feet. He shuffles more than walks.
I stomp my foot down three times, so I don’t startle Melody since I’m approaching her from behind before tapping her shoulder. She spins around, her mouth falling open when she spots Joey. She wraps him up into a firm hug before she remembers the staples in his chest aren’t there for no reason .
“Oh my God, I am so sorry. Here, sit.” She yanks out a dining chair from under the table and forcefully shoves Joey in it.
“Thanks,” he signs with a chuckle, his one word breathy. “I am sorry I didn’t get to the service. We were given the runaround by the medical transportation company we hired.” When he says ‘we,’ his eyes drift to Dr. Giorgio standing in the corner of the living room, forever on alert when it comes to Joey’s health.
“That is okay. You are here now.” Because Joey isn’t as knowledgeable in sign language as me, Melody talks to him slower than she does me. “How are you feeling? Did the operation work?”
Joey nods. “Yeah, it went well.” I feel Melody’s heart skip a beat when Joey asks, “Do you want to listen?”
Melody’s tears wet my dress shirt when she dips her chin. “Please.”
Smiling an apprehensive grin, Joey seizes Melody’s hand in his before carefully placing it over his chest. Not even a nanosecond later, Melody’s spare hand shoots up to clamp her mouth. Although tears are streaming down her cheeks, I know they are happy tears. The smile peeking out from behind her hand assures me of this, much less the faintest movement of her lips. “Daddy.”
17
MELODY
TWO MONTHS LATER.
M y eyes pop up from the bright pink nail polish I’m painting on my toenails when the gust of a door bursting open flutters over my arms a mere second after three stomps vibrated my chest. When I spot Brandon standing in the doorway of my room, I smile at him. He’s out of breath like he climbed the old stairs of his family ranch to reach me. That isn’t the case. My room in the brand-spanking-new McGee residence is on the lower level. He’s just panting because he’s excited. It’s a nice thing to see after months of turmoil. I haven’t seen his face this lit-up since my eighteenth birthday. He was overjoyed that day because no matter what his father said, I’d never become a ward of the state.
I could’ve moved out on my own after my birthday; my trust fund is more than capable of funding a nice apartment in town and a few years of schooling, but Mrs. McGee was adamant her home was also my home.
That home now happens to be a sprawling mansion on the fringe of New York City.
I can’t one hundred percent testify that Mrs. McGee finally relented to her husband’s pleas to move closer to his office, because part of me still believes she only moved because she saw the pained expression on my face whenever I glanced over at my family ranch.
No matter how much I strived to build the courage, I couldn’t bring myself to go there. The house looked like it always did, but it felt cold and empty from a distance, so I didn’t want to test the theory up close. Home is where your heart is. My father’s heart no longer lives in my family’s ranch. It’s Joey’s chest, and he’s right here in the room next to Brandon’s.
Brandon has been my rock the past nine weeks. He held me when I cried and made me smile when I was confident I wouldn’t be happy for years to come. He’s been gentle when needed and stern to the point I wanted to kick his butt.
It’s the stern moments I’ll relish the most in the future because he only changed who he was for my benefit. I felt so much guilt at the start. I truly believed my dad died thinking I hated him. Brandon showed me otherwise. He taught me that words said in anger mean nothing unless they are attached to an action. It still hurts. Even now, while talking about it, I can feel tears pooling in my eyes. But it’s getting better—slowly.
My lips lift against Brandon’s hand when he cups my cheeks before placing a kiss to my temple. He must have seen the struggle in my eyes as he’s perfected that move the past two months.
As his thumbs brush the shell of my ears like he’s dying to cover them and count to ten, his eyes lower to mine. They’re as gentle and kind as ever. “You okay?”
