“Maybe someday he’ll remember he still has a sister and will want to make things right with you.”
“Right now, I’d be happy if he made even one right decision.” She backed out of her brother’s room and walked into hers across the hall. She went to her desk by the window and used her keys to open her desk drawer.
“You need a key for your own desk?”
“If I want to keep my laptop from getting stolen, yes.”
Rory frowned. “Your brother is an asshole, and I think cavemen might have used that same laptop.”
“Yep. Will you grab my denim jacket out of the closet and my boots? I’m looking forward to going for that ride.”
Rory did as she asked. She packed up her laptop in her backpack and made sure she had her books and homework assignment for her next class.
“When do you have school?”
“I have a class Tuesday and Thursday and another on Monday and Wednesday.”
“How many more classes do you have to take before you graduate?”
“After eight years, these are the last. Finally.”
“You’re graduating?”
“In May. My father would have been so proud. I’m the first of the family to earn a college degree.”
“Your father was proud. He knew you’d finish. It’s not in you to quit.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got an assignment I need to finish and plan a funeral.”
“About that, what do you want to do?”
“I need to look at my father’s papers. He planned everything when my mother died. He’ll be buried next to her. Everything else I need to know should be in his hiding spot.”
“I can’t believe you two had to hide and lock away everything.”
“Life with a drug addict who will do anything, including sell anything he can get his hands on for his next fix.” She cocked her head toward the door. “Come with me. I need your muscles.”
“They’re all yours.”
She slid her hands up his arm and over his biceps. He raised his hand and flexed, breaking the hold she had on him with ease. “Oh God.”
“That’s what you’ll be saying later.” He hooked his arm around her back and pushed her forward, and grabbed her hips when she stood in front of him. He walked her forward, keeping in step with her, his mouth at her neck, kissing a trail up to her ear. “Stay focused, or we will never get this done.”
“Hey, you’re the one who flexed and made my insides quake.”
His deep chuckle at her ear sent a shiver down her spine, but he was right; she needed to focus on the task and stop distracting herself from reality with the hot guy who went out of his way to make her smile and forget the reason she was here.
She walked out of his light grasp and stood next to her father’s desk in the small office off the living room. She pointed to the fake ficus tree in the corner. “Pull the tree up when I release the bolts.”
She squatted next to the small oak barrel planter and pulled out the black wrought-iron handle with the pin her father had rigged to hold the fake top and tree in place.
“Clever.” Rory held the tree aloft like it was nothing more than a feather. She’d have had to struggle to pull the eight-foot top-heavy tree out and set it in the corner. Moss fell free and landed on the hardwood floor. She’d clean it up and spread it over the base again when they reset the tree.
“What’s inside?” Rory asked, kneeling beside her.
Sadie stared into the barrel amazed by how much her father had stuffed into the small space. Her mother’s jewelry box. She opened it and stared at the few but treasured pieces her mother loved. Her and her father’s wedding rings. A pair of tiny diamond stud earrings. A couple of gold necklaces. One had two gold hearts dangling from the bottom. One with an S for Sadie, the other with a C for Connor engraved on it. Tears filled her eyes.
Rory’s big hand settled on her back. “It’s strange the things that remind me of my mother. The coffee cup I made her in fourth grade is still in the cupboard. Every morning when I grab a mug, there it is. Some days, I barely notice it. Others, it hits me so hard my heart feels like it’s shattered all over again.”
Sadie tapped the charms with her finger. “I remember every time she bent over to kiss me, this would dangle from her neck. I can still remember the smell of her hair, the way she smiled, the sound of her laugh, but my memories are fading into the realm of dreams. The further I get from those moments we shared, the less real she seems.”
“That’s life, sweetheart. You will never forget her, but you have to live your life. If Connor was here, you’d share your memories and stories. I used to with Ford and Colt all the time when we were young. We don’t do it as much now, but maybe we should.”