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I met Grant as he was about to head out the door. Apparently, I’d forgotten he was invited to dinner at Ellie’s house tonight—which solved my having to cook something. Plus, I wasn’t feeling very hungry. Probably something to do with the tension in my stomach all day. I threw my keys on the counter and slipped out of my shoes.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Grant asked after taking one look at me. My mood must’ve been written all over my face, no matter how much I tried to hide it.
“Absolutely not. I’m good.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Besides, I didn’t have any dinner ideas anyway.”
“Okay. I’m gonna ride my bike over. Be home in a few hours.” Ellie’s parents were cool, and since she only lived three streets away, he was fine to walk or ride his bike—they’d likely play video games after dinner, and he’d lose track of time. But he was mostly good about curfew.
“Don’t forget to honor their rule about bedroom doors staying open,” I said in a rush before I could stop myself. He was well aware of their rules, which mirrored my own, but I certainly didn’t want him to jeopardize their trust. Not when it’d taken him so long to find such a good friend. Rebecca would’ve given me the look, the one that told me when to back off if I was acting too overprotective, and I supposed I was no good on my own without that sobering reminder.
Grant stood stiffly with his back to me. “Do you really have to remind me every single time? Nothing is gonna happen with Ellie and me except playing video games. I’m not like you!”
“What the heck does that mean?” I replied, utterly confused.
“I…” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I said that. It didn’t come out the way I wanted. I was just pointing out that she’s my friend. Nothing more.”
“Got it, loud and clear.” I was perplexed and a bit hurt by his tone, but I let it go. There was nothing I hated more than arguing with Grant. “You should get going. See you later.”
He stood there a moment longer, as if wanting to say something more, but I didn’t have it in me to drag it out of him. I got busy unloading the dishwasher, and when I heard the door shut behind him, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m not like you.”
Way to rub it in, kid.
Once the dishes were put away, I changed into sweats, then sank down near an old chest in the living room, where we stored our photo albums. I considered texting Marcus something silly instead of going down memory lane, then recalled how Judy had encouraged me to be indulgent.
Pulling out the first album, I scooted backward to rest against the couch and began paging through our wedding photos, remembering how excited and sure of myself I felt that day, marrying my best friend, tearing up at the first glimpse of her walking down the aisle. We looked so young and happy, and I almost didn’t recognize myself without the scruff I’d begun sporting shortly after she passed, too emotional to care about facial hair, let alone any other forms of grooming. I’d eventually gotten it together but kept the beard, maybe as a marker of sorts.
Before I knew it, an hour had passed as I smiled and blinked back tears, and went through a hundred other emotions. Ruby must’ve sensed I was going through something because she lay down beside me and propped her head on my knee.
“Such a good girl,” I said, brushing my fingers down her coat.
I packed the albums away and stood, glad I’d followed Judy’s advice. I felt a bit worse for wear but okay. Better but not perfect. Sometimes I thought I might never experience that buoyant, happy feeling again.
When the doorbell rang, Ruby barked, startling me. Hopefully it wasn’t a door-to-door salesman.
I opened the door to find Marcus standing on my porch. “Marc. What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call first. I was sort of in the neighborhood.” He grimaced as if reconsidering his decision. “I don’t want to intrude. I thought maybe you’d want company. Or just this.”
He produced a bottle of bourbon from a paper bag. It was the same brand we’d sipped during one of the evenings we’d met at a bar and had agreed it’d become a favorite. It was smooth and bold, with other complex notes, and suddenly it felt like the perfect idea for a night like this.
“I…uh…” I opened my mouth to speak, feeling a bit thunderstruck, not only because Marcus had shown up but also because it was such a kind gesture.
“It’s just…you sounded so down when I messaged you earlier.”
“You can tell that from a text?” I teased, finally finding my voice.
