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He raises an eyebrow, “Nah, there’s plenty of ghosts to keep me company.”
I roll my eyes and he smirks.
“You know what I mean. Where’s your dad? What does he do now?”
Wyatt rubs the back of his neck and looks away, “He’s a truck driver, spends most of his time on the road. Being here is hard for him, without Mom. He’s usually home just long enough to shower, eat, and sleep before he’s on the road again.”
“Must be lonely, living in such a big house.” I say softly.
He shrugs and his eyes meet mine again, “You get used to it. What about you, how’d your parents meet?”
Taking a deep breath I say, “My parents met their first year of college. They both went to UNC Chapel Hill—Mom was majoring in English and Dad was pre-med. They met at the library and as soon as my dad laid eyes on my mom he told his best friend, ‘I’m going to marry that girl, wait and see.’ A year later they were married. Mom worked as a teacher for a few years while Dad finished medical school. They didn’t have me for another few years. Dad always said that he’d known he’d always wanted to be a doctor, but the minute he saw my mom, she became his everything—his dream. He liked to say that while the medical field had been his calling, loving my mom had been his purpose.”
Wyatt looked over at me then, his eyes were still sad but his smile was genuine. He cocked his head to the side a little.
“How does it feel to be the product of that kind of earth-shattering love?” he asks.
I shrug. “Sometimes when my mom looks at me now, she gets tears in her eyes and looks away. Like she can’t bear to look at me because I remind her so much of my dad. Even though people always tell me I’m the spitting image of my mother. I guess she looks at me and only sees the things about me that are my father. People always talk about how lucky my parents were to find their soulmate, and I know that’s true, but they don’t ever consider what it’s like to lose one.”
Wyatt nods. “Willa keeps her hair short because the longer it gets, the more she looks like my mother. One night, about a month after my mom had died, Dad had called her by my mom’s name. Willa asked me to drive her to the hair salon the next day, she never lets her hair get longer than her shoulders now.”
“What was your mom’s name?” I ask.
“Grace. What was your dad’s?”
“David.”
We’re both quiet for a minute, just staring at each other. I clear my throat and walk over to the couch, setting my purse down on the floor.
“So, I thought your friends were supposed to be here tonight?” I ask.
“They are. Alex’s wife Taylor is a nurse and she got off a long shift a few hours ago, they said they’d be a little late. Which, for them, could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour and a half. I told them I’d wait to order the pizza until they got here. Alex has a thing about cold pizza.”
I laugh and kick off my shoes, pulling my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. Wyatt sits down on the recliner to my left, yawning. He still looks tired.
“What have you been doing today?” I ask.
“Well, I woke up this morning and made sure the cows had plenty of feed. Then I rode around and checked the fences. I usually have to do that every few days to make sure no poles are down and some of the younger cows haven’t tried an escape attempt. I worked at the garage for a few hours, then came back here to see Willa back to her dorm. Then I had the brilliant idea to take a nap, and here we are. What about you?”
I sigh and lean my head on the back of the couch, remembering my conversation with Dr. Marsh.
“I left work early—I had an appointment with my therapist. After that I went to the coffee shop, read for a few hours, then went home, showered, changed, and headed over here. Now here we are.” I smiled.
Wyatt nodded and began picking at a seam in his jeans. “You didn’t have plans with Noah or any of your other friends?”
I raise my eyebrows a little. I haven’t talked, or really even thought much about Noah since last week after Wyatt took me ice-skating.
I scoffed. “Yeah, no plans with Noah.”
Wyatt looked up at that, eyebrows raised. “Why?”
I shrug, looking up into his warm brown eyes. “I decided I didn’t want to waste my time with someone I only kind of like.”
“Wyatt! We’re here, you can order the pizza now!”
The front door opens, and Wyatt looks up. I hadn’t even heard anyone pull into the driveway. Wyatt stood and walked into the hallway, muttering something under his breath. I sigh, stand up, and follow him. Alex walks into the kitchen wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and a baseball cap covers most of his unruly blond hair. He walks straight for the fridge and opens it up.
A pretty girl with brown hair stands in the hallway by the door, hanging up her bag and a jacket on the hook. She’s in a big T-shirt and leggings, which makes me feel better about my outfit choice. She looks over Wyatt’s shoulder at me and smiles warmly.
