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He excuses himself when his phone rings with a call from his coach. I take the opportunity to check out the balcony up close. Micah stands behind me and the warmth of his body is a welcome shield against the cool night air.
I relax against his broad chest. “The city looks so much prettier at night.”
“True. Even the east side doesn’t look like shit from a distance.”
The ends of my hair lift as a light wind rolls through and shudders the citrus tree leaves. My skin prickles with a shiver and Micah holds me closer, his mouth next to my ear.
“It’s just a gentle ghost.”
“What?” I’m not sure I heard him right. It doesn’t sound like something he would say.
“Cecile says the softest winds are gentle ghosts. It was something her grandmother told her.”
We live with the shadows of many ghosts, both of us. Some of them are bound to be gentle. Anyway, it would be nice to believe that my hair is being tenderly touched by the mother I never knew.
Micah props his chin on top of my head. “Do you mind if we stick around here for a while? Conner acts like a fool sometimes but I know he’d rather not be alone.”
These boys have always looked out for each other. Closer than brothers. It’s touching, and only cements Micah’s hold on my heart.
“I don’t mind at all. When we were kids I wanted so badly to hang out with you guys.”
He chuckles. “And here I always thought you couldn’t stand us.”
“Oh, that was often true. But I still wanted to be included. Weird, huh?”
“Not weird.” He presses his lips into my hair. “Not weird at all.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say more, to tell him how he takes my breath away and leaves me in awe.
Micah is like no one else and I want to hope that what we’re sharing is the start of something with a real future.
But Conner pokes his head outside and asks us if we want to watch a Star Wars movie so I save the deep thoughts for another time.
Chapter15
Micah
My mother sure gets a lot of mileage out of her ludicrous ‘Everyone Look At Me’ toasts.
She’s also really clueless when it comes to reading a room.
Cecile is already back upstairs, exhausted after an hour spent in the dining room where everyone heard the sad news that I learned weeks ago but kept to myself out of respect for my grandmother. Maybe she was hoping a second medical opinion would contradict the first. Now there’s no avoiding the truth. She’ll be lucky if she lives until the spring.
Dani can’t stop sniffling as Gage holds her in his lap.
Charlotte dries her tears with her red linen napkin and manages to smile when Conner promises they can go play catch with Total after dinner.
Alta keeps pouring glasses of wine down her throat like they’re vodka shots.
And Tess sits quietly next to me, with my arm resting on the back of her chair.
This is how things stand when Matilda decides it’s a fine time to stand up, tap her fork against her glass, and call attention to herself.
Henley, dutifully pussy whipped as ever, hangs on his wife’s next word like a dog waits for scraps under the table.
“Ahem,” warbles Matilda. “Cheers to Cecile Higgins Kingston. My beautiful, tenacious, high-spirited gem of a mother. Being her precious firstborn, I feel like we sort of grew up together. Cecile has known much sadness in her life. But she’s known so much joy too, thanks to the people in this room.”
Gage shoots me aWhat The Fucklook.
