Page 119 of Creeping Beautiful

He grabs some serving spoons, I grab the bread, and then we go outside.

And the minute I step into the pavilion it feels like the old days. Back before we knew she was sick. Back before that afternoon of her twentieth birthday when what we had was good, and innocent, and right.

But that’s wrong too.

Because nothing about this has ever been right.

We set everything on the table and eat.

But I’m not even here with them.

I’m back there.

On that day.

The day everything changed and nothing was ever the same again.

Indie was wearing a yellow party dress with a short fluffy skirt made of tulle or whatever you call that shit. That see-through gauzy fabric that always reminded me of ballerina outfits.

It was strapless and the bodice had little crystals woven into the lace around her breasts. Adam had it made for her. He always bought her a dress on her birthday.

This one was a little risqué for my tastes, but she was twenty. And a mother.

Twenty fucking years old. Finally. It felt like a milestone. Ten years we’d been taking care of this girl. Ten years she’d been running our lives. One decade. That’s something, right?

From the moment she stepped out of Adam’s truck to the moment she disappeared, everything at Old Home revolved around Indie Anna Accorsi.

I’m not gonna lie and say it was all good, because it wasn’t.

And I’m not gonna pretend any of it was easy, because it wasn’t.

But I would absolutely do it all again.

Nathan St. James came back into our lives that morning. He was home, I guess. Because one minute we were planning our day in the kitchen after breakfast and Maggie was dancing around like a little spinning top, very excited about something that involved a pony, and then there was a knock on the door.

All of us turned to peer towards the front of the house with curious looks. Who the hell was at our door?

We all went into the hallway, but Adam went ahead of us towards the foyer.

We could see him. The front door was open, so there was only a screen.

Nathan St. James. In the motherfucking flesh.

And then something really weird happened. Maggie said, “Nathan.” It was a distorted version of his name. Said the way only a small child could say it.

And the whole fucking place went quiet.

And then it went… unquiet.

Adam said, “What the fuck?”

And Donovan said, “Have you been talking to him this whole time?”

And I didn’t say shit. Because I could not find the right words.

Indie ignored all of that and just smiled. “Hello, Nathan. Come on in.”

Nathan had enough sense to not come in. Adam was standing at the door, blocking it.