Page 60 of Restored Dreams

When I wake, Brut has brought a chair to the side of my bed. Tea steams in a mug on my nightstand.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at me. His elbows perched on his knees, and his clenched fingers hold up his chin.

“How long was I out?” I lift my head, drowsily and search for my phone for the time. I’ve got to get back downstairs. We have orders for a wedding and a grand opening party. Ester can’t do it all alone, even if she has Julia to help her.

A hand comes to my shoulder, pressing me back. “Ester said you normally sleep for an hour. I made you some tea.”

I lie back, staring up at him. What is he still doing here? Why is he being so nice? Does he know? Did Midge tell him when she promised not to?

“I’m okay,” I murmur, and Brut nods his head, twisting his lips as he peers over at me.

“I’m not.”

My head rolls on the pillow. “What’s wrong?” I ask, immediately sensing a deeper meaning to his words. His gaze turns toward my couch.

“Chopper misses you. I think the irony is finally catching up to him. Lauren left him behind but then left him responsible for her.”

Most things were settled. Now he waits. Bills need to be paid and a public announcement released about her death. After six months, he’s free of his responsibility of her.

“He hasn’t come to see me lately.” It’s true. I haven’t had much contact with him as the weeks pass. I assumed he had things under control and was possibly avoiding me. Maybe I am too much of a reminder of his mother. The thought makes me sad. If I lose Chopper as well, she’s really taken everything from me.

Brut’s hand comes out to my shoulder, rubbing over the joint and startling me from my thoughts. Lauren might have taken everything from him, too, but she also gave him his son. That’s one thing she did right. My hand comes to my lower belly as if protecting what isn’t more than a lima bean inside me.

Will he think I’ve done the same thing as my sister?

I’ve loved Brut Paige most of my life, and I see the little lima bean as his gift to me. I’ll always have a piece of him to remember our week together.

“Maybe you should call him to check in.” I nod, agreeing. I’ve been a little preoccupied myself, and avoiding Chopper means keeping the truth for as long as I can.

“I’ll do that.”

“Maybe you could call me to check in, too.”

“Brut.” I sigh. I’d love to do that, but where would it lead? Stolen moments? A week’s vacation? I just can’t envision us going anywhere. Then again, I often dream of being with Brut, especially in my condition. I don’t want him to feel trapped, though. I won’t do to him what Lauren did.

“Fine.” He exhales. “I’ll call you.” There’s a determination behind his voice, and my head tilts in question. His head nods, growing more adamant with each shake. “You’ll see,” he says. With this, he stands abruptly, leans forward to kiss my forehead, and removes himself from my apartment.

33

All jokes aside

[Brut]

Seeing Lily sick restores my faith. Not in a negative way, but in a determined manner. I’m a putz, and I chickened out when she rejected me after the night of her sister’s funeral. Instead of accepting she was hurting and might need my support, I gave her space. The longer the time spanned, the greater the distance, and I didn’t know how to retrace my steps. Instead of sticking to my original plan—win Lily back—I lost focus. After finding my son in her arms, learning of his mother’s death, and then struggling to help him through a situation I could hardly wrap my head around, I could no longer see straight. My end goal was Lily, but the finish line blurred.

When Midge told me she saw Lily at the doctor’s office and hinted I might want to check in on her, I wanted to chastise my sister-in-law for meddling again. Then I thought twice. This was the push I needed and the excuse I had to visit her. She really is sick. I didn’t think someone could turn that shade of green, and I’m a dad. I’ve had my share of sleepless nights with a vomiting child. Still, Lily looked different. Maybe it was just that I missed her—and her body—because her boobs definitely looked bigger. Her curves perfectly fill my hand, but somehow, she looked a little fuller up top. I dismissed it as the way she lay on her bed, her brow pinched after the retching, and her face clammy. I watched her rest.

I didn’t want to project what was going on in her pretty head, but her sister’s death threw Lily for a loop as well. After our night together, I didn’t want to say goodbye, but I could see old fears written in Lily’s face. In fact, her expression looked very similar to the night she told me to leave her way back when.

Everything in me wanted to pull her tight and refuse to walk away when she was nineteen. The same feelings occurred a month ago when she told me goodbye in her apartment. I would leave her alone if that’s what she wished, but I didn’t wish it, and I didn’t really believe Lily did either. She wouldn’t let me touch her, kiss her, or slip inside her if she could so easily dismiss me. We might have needed some space after Lauren’s second intrusion into our lives, but this time, Lauren would not win.

It’s the afternoon of my sick-call visit, and I’m putting into place what I said—if she wouldn’t call me to check in, then I’m checking in with her instead. It’s only been an hour, and I need contact.

What did the cupcake say to the muffin? I text.

Three dots appear and disappear. When they pop up again, I hold my breath waiting.

I don’t know, what?