“Yup. She’s going to regret that in the morning,” Sky said ruefully.
“I didn’t realize they were talking,” he commented, more to himself than to Sky. But she caught it.
“Oh, so you haven’t heard about your niece, huh?”
He cocked his head, a watered-down version of Lex.
Sky laughed. “Ask Willa,” she said and nodded her head, trying to tell him to take advantage of his opportunity.
He smiled and left the room. No one had to tell him twice.
Pete thought about asking Willa to relay the tale of Nina, but he knew that would put them exactly where they didn’t need to be—in the middle of his brother’s family—and he needed them to be in the middle of their family. So he didn’t say a word. He walked to the door of the room where Willa had disappeared and knocked softly.
“Come in,” she said, just as softly, as if the tenuous spell between them would be shattered by any loud noise or sudden movement.
Pete slowly turned the knob, briefly resting his head on the door before pushing it gently open. He prayed silently, Don’t let me fuck this up, before, he stepped over the threshold. He walked into the room, breathing a sigh of relief. He could hear the sink running. He sank into the decorative chair in the corner of the room, next to the table that held the TV. He tried to collect his thoughts, wondering what he might do to blow this. He couldn’t help it. Suddenly with all of the turmoil of the last several months, he’d become a pessimist. He felt the bulk of everyone’s expectations grinding his natural optimism into little smatterings of dirt that could hardly fill a dustpan. His father’s death, his brother’s withdrawal, Lu’s departure to London, his mother’s grief, Willa’s rejection. It had all beaten him down.
Now, on the threshold of a breakthrough with Willa, he felt fear. And it pulled at the fabric of his confidence. How could he make it OK with her? Because he knew if he made it work with Willa, the rest of it would fade to the screensaver of his life, there but not forever present. Before he could form a plan or calculate what to say, the door to the bathroom opened.
Willa walked out, face scrubbed, shorts and tank top on. She knew he was there, so she took a few steps into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, perpendicular to him. Not facing him but not looking away.
“Lu OK?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I left her in Sky’s care.”
She nodded her head, acknowledging that. “Can I be nosy?”
He glanced at her. “O … K,” he said, slowly.
Willa didn’t fluster—ever. So to see her seem nervous, even embarrassed, intrigued him.
“What was the text you got at the bar?”
Looking confused, Pete pulled his phone out his back pocket. Looking at his messages, he balked. He so didn’t want to talk about this now. Knowing where this was going to go, he put his phone on the table next to him and got up to put himself directly in front of her.
“I don’t want to talk about the text,” he said, then he took her hands gently and pulled her up. With their hands interlocked, he stepped closer to her so that the tips of their toes were touching. Easing his hands out of hers, he placed them on her hip bones, fingers on her back and thumbs in front. He pulled her closer. “I don’t want to talk about the text, Will, because I’ve been waiting virtually my whole life to be with you.” He kissed her briefly but hard, so she’d know he’d been there. Then he released her hips and brought both of his hands up to her face. Her blue eyes stared at him, the inner battle reflected there. Ugh, he thought, she wants to know.
Gently laying his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes. “It was Lex. He wanted me to make sure that Lu got home OK.”
He felt her eyes fly open and her draw back, not away, but back. “How did Lex know that Lu needed to get home OK?”
Dropping his hands, Pete stepped all the way back. “Best guess? Lu was drunk texting him.”
“What?!” she said, shattering the gentle din of the conversation.
Pete rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?” he said, resigned.
Willa had never been a fairy-tale kind of girl. If she let herself remember, she’d note that Lu hadn’t been one either. They’d both kind of scoffed at the princess-waiting-to-be-rescued-by-her-prince genre. And that attitude had everything to do with their mother. You’d have thought their mother was a radical lesbian rather than a married mother of two girls. Her views on feminism and women’s roles didn’t include mothers’ sacrificing their careers for their children. As an adult, knowing Amber’s views, Willa had to admit that she was sometimes surprised that she and her sister had been born. Standing in front of Pete, Willa thought of all of this and knew that she had been throwing Lex and Lu’s situation in between her and Pete. Perhaps she could blame it on fear of giving up any piece of herself for a man. Or maybe, after twenty-eight years, she wasn’t sure how to give up anything for anyone.