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“Thank you, Monica. Happy Thanksgiving.”
With a goodbye, we head out of the building and walk to the car.
Rebecca is quiet the rest of the drive home, her gaze fixed out the window. My eyes keep darting to her every now and again. There was nothing worse than seeing her sad like this, knowing there was nothing I could do to help her.
Her mom was getting progressively worse and fast. There was only one occasion when she remembered Rebecca, but for the most part, she thought she was talking to her sister Gigi. Rebecca still visited her at least once a week, although, I could see the toll each visit took, since the two women didn’t have the best relationship. Not that Rebecca ever complained.
I pull into the driveway, noticing a few familiar cars. Turning off the engine, I shift my attention to Rebecca. “You okay?”
She nods, her palm covering my hand resting on her thigh. “I will be.”
With a squeeze, I pull back and get out, walking around the car to open her door. Hand in hand, we make our way into the house, the cacophony of noises assaulting us immediately.
Mom’s head peeks through the kitchen doorway. “There you are! We were starting to get worried.” Her gaze shifts to Rebecca, and then over our shoulders. I see the moment realization sets in. She knew we were supposed to bring Rebecca’s mom for a visit. Thankfully, she collects herself quickly. “Your teammates are here, Miguel. They’re all in the living room. You mind giving me a hand, Rebecca?”
“Not at all.”
Rebecca starts to pull her hand out of my hold, but I tighten my grip. “I can help too, if you want.”
I wanted to be there in case she needed me.
Rebecca gives me a small smile. “I’ll be fine.” Lifting on the tips of her toes, she presses her mouth against mine. “Go.”
I want to protest, but I know better than to do that.
“Okay. If you need something, yell.” I kiss her cheek. “I love you, Red.”
“Love you too.”
With one last look in their direction, I slip out of the kitchen and walk down the hallway, following the sound of voices whenI spot my brother pacing in the dining room all alone. His phone is plastered to his ear, a grim expression on his face.
“Fucking hell, Cheryl, pick up.”
Cheryl?
Aaron curses under his breath. He pulls the phone away from his face and hangs up, only to dial her immediately again.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, stepping into the room.
Aaron turns around abruptly to face me. “Oh, it’s you.”
He looks like crap. A few days’ worth of stubble covers his jaw, his hair is a mess from all the times he’s ran his hand through it, and there are dark bags under his eyes. He looks like he’s aged ten years since the last time I saw him, which was barely a couple of weeks ago.
“We just got here.” I tip my chin in his direction. “What’s up?”
Aaron shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It clearly does matter. You look like shit, and you’re clearly upset. What’s going on?”
“She left.”
My brows pull together. “She left?”
“Yes.” Aaron rakes his fingers through his hair, letting his hand drop by his side. “Cheryl left me.”
REBECCA
Helping Mrs. Fernandez prepare the Thanksgiving dinner was exactly what I needed. Cooking was simple. I knew how to do it, and it required all of my focus, which gave me the excuse topush the pain and disappointment at not being able to spend the holiday with my mom at bay.
