The Girl Who Fell(52)
“You have?”
“Of course. It would be impossible not to. Here’s the thing. Olivia and Jimmy got married when they were our age. You came along a year later. Imagine becoming a mother in the next few months. Imagine spending the next twenty years of your life raising that child. You’d love him or her and your life would be great but . . .”
“But what?” In my mind I’ve been the “but” in the middle of the junction of Dad’s life. Zephyr: love her, but.
“His life might have gone by too fast. Maybe Jimmy needed to be a kid again for a while. It’s not an excuse. It doesn’t make it right. But he’s not a monster, Zeph. He’s never been that.”
“He was selfish.”
“We’re all selfish sometimes.” His finger strokes my thumb, a metronome of affection. “And maybe that’s why he’s back. To set things right.”
“How’d you know he was back?”
Gregg nods upstairs. “Please. Your family is pretty much the talk of our family. There’s a lot of love for you here.”
And I feel it. The multitudes of love.
Gregg inches back in his seat, releases my hand. “Did that weird you out?”
“No, not at all.” He should know that even though I didn’t want to kiss him, his words and his hand holding are perfect. “I’m really glad I came tonight.”
The music drums between us.
“Zephyr. Don’t ever for a minute think that you aren’t the most special person on the planet. Boston College will want you. They’ll prove me right. You’ll see.”
Tears of thankfulness well up in me and I can’t think of the right words to tell him how grateful I am for his fierce belief in me. But then I remember I don’t need words. Tonight has reminded me that with Gregg, I can just be.
• • •
By the time the night is over, I’m exhausted. I crash on my bed and pull out my phone. Finn settles into a ball at my feet.
Two missed calls. Four texts.
The first text: Call me.
The second: U still eating?
The third: Where are u?
The fourth: Call. Me.
I don’t even listen to my messages; I’m too eager to pull up Alec’s number.
“Where have you been?” he asks quickly.
“Um . . . having Thanksgiving with my mom.”
“I want you here,” Alec says, his voice heavy.
I look at the clock: 10:16. “Now?” I hear Mom rattling around in the kitchen, likely trying to squeeze Rachel Slicer’s chocolate cream pie into the fridge. I don’t know how she has the energy to do anything when I’m so tired.
“Tomorrow. Five o’clock.”
“Ooo . . . kay.” I grin. “What’s with the formality?”
“My mom’s visiting my aunt for the night. I’ll have the house to myself. Which is why I need you here.”
“Well then, I need to be there.”
“Good.” I hear his smile in the word. “Because I love you, Zephyr.”
My heart leaps. My body hums.
I have so much to be thankful for.
Chapter 17
If I could crawl out of my skin to get to Alec’s house faster, I would. I’ve been on a high since last night and the only person I want to share it with is Alec. I brake for a light in the center of town and the red bulb seems brighter, crisper. Everything seems sharper thanks to Gregg’s bolstering words.
My headlights brush Alec’s garage doors just as his front porch light flickers on.
Alec jogs to my car, opens my door. “Why does it feel like forever since I’ve seen you?”
“Because I’m just that magnetic?”
When I get out, he pins me against the car with his hips, flirts his mouth to mine. “That is an understatement.” He bites at my bottom lip. “You ready?”
I swallow hard, a lump suddenly blocking my throat. Ready for what?
Alec guides me into his warm house, through the living room and kitchen until we reach a set of sliding doors at the back. “I wanted to start here, considering our origins.” He looks at my clothes, one long gaze over my jacket to my boots as he opens the sliding door a crack. “Unless you’ll be too cold.”
The frosty air whistles into the hot room and it steals some of my anxiety. “Outside is good.”
He ushers me through the door. The sky is littered with stars and the air drafts cold into my lungs. “Over here.” He leads me to a jungle gym, a smaller version of the one in the park, but only just. It offers monkey bars, a rope ladder, and a twisting slide. Lights poke out of the house’s windows like yellow eyes, but the lawn is fenced off from the neighborhood and we are alone. Alec settles me onto the wooden slats of the platform. He hovers over me, a growing shadow in the dusk.