Page 40 of Distant Shores (Stapled Magnolias #2)

Getting power of attorney over him had been a horrible process for both of us, and I hated myself for missing the moment he crossed the line from eccentric to ill until he’d gone over it and had taken several steps past it.

My nose buzzed, threatening tears, but I sniffed them back and gave her a serious look. “One day, he may not remember who you are at all. It’s a shitty truth. But you know what he will remember even if he doesn’t know who Adeline Jacks is?”

She shook her head, her chin wobbling as fresh tears streamed down her face.

“He’ll remember how you make him feel. How the girl with the quick, bright smile made his life better. Something inside him will recognize that your presence is joy. So…. just be you, yeah? ”

Delly wiped her face again, and I did the same even though there wasn’t anything there.

When she didn’t say anything, I clicked the screen on the console, bringing it to life. “Now, where to? Nurse Emily said to take as long as you need.”

A list of destinations lit up, and Delly looked at the screen, then back down at her lap. “Does the screen… flash a lot?”

I frowned. “Not really. I don’t think so, anyway. Why?”

She slumped down into her seat as if embarrassed. “I have, or, umm… used to have… seizures.”

“Oh,” I said dumbly. “Flashing lights can trigger them?”

She blew out a breath and opened her eyes. “That’s the theory, I guess. I don’t think I’ve had one in a long time. The type I used to get, petit mal seizures—absence seizures, they called them—I’ve apparently outgrown. According to my doctor.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think there is any ‘outgrowing’ what that kind of thing does to you.

Like teachers calling me ‘space cadet’ because I would zone out mid-sentence during a seizure.

” She turned her head toward me. “They’re really subtle, and mine were almost imperceptible.

I just… go offline. Sometimes I don’t even realize it. ”

I took a few seconds to imagine it, to feel the scars that might have left on such a bright girl. “That sucks, Delly.”

She laughed. “It does. I couldn’t even drive because of it. I had to go a certain amount of time without a seizure before I could have my license.”

“Can you drive now?”

“Technically. But I haven’t worked up the nerve.”

I hummed. “Driving’s overrated. We’ll get your longboard soon. ”

She laughed, and the clouds in her eyes finally parted.

We sat in silence for a couple more minutes, relaxed in our seats, and something in my memories clicked into place.

I’d never seen or heard the TV being used since we started living together.

“You and Adair never watch TV at the house. Is this why?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask about it before,” Delly said.

“Though you’ve been in your own world the past few weeks.

You give my brother a run for his money in overworking and staying busy.

So… I guess I’m not actually surprised.” She raised her eyebrows at me, then her lips twitched upward. “You might’ve missed a few things.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she just giggled and grabbed the door handle. “Time to get back, I think.” She pushed the door open, but paused before getting out, glancing at me. “Thank you, Ireland. I’m….” She paused, frowning for a second before she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

Brave girl.

“I’m glad I have someone who knows what it’s like. There isn’t anyone else I could talk about this with. Not really.”

I tried to smile, but it was wobbly at best. “I’m here. I’ll be here.”

That was what I’d desperately needed to hear from someone last year. From someone who meant it.

She looked me over for a long moment and then nodded. “Good.” Then, after a quick check of her makeup in the visor’s mirror, she slipped out of the car, offering me a little goodbye wave through the window.

The quiet left in her wake was sudden and stifling, the air thick with everything I’d brought up and pushed down. Here in the Cadillac, and just… here, inside me.

And God , it was a lot.

I clicked a destination at random, and the projector flicked to life. Pushing back the seat, I curled into a ball, my loose T-shirt riding up behind me.

I made it through a scenic drive featuring fall in Vermont, the foliage striking even on the dulled projector image.

The screen went black as the projector flickered out.

Just a few more minutes, and I would be strong again. Seem strong again.

But then the passenger door opened.

I should’ve startled, maybe, but instead I just watched, the skin of my cheek soothed by the cool leather seat.

Long, muscular legs covered by green scrubs.

A crumpled matching top creasing as the man wearing it leaned inside.

Messy hair, dimpled chin, full lips, dark glasses, and hazel eyes that seemed greener as they lingered on me.

More than lingered, actually. Like a physical thing, Adair’s gaze was heavy on me as it searched .

He folded his large frame into the seat and shut the door softly.

Pine and fresh mountain air.

I breathed him in deeply.

“You saw Delly?” I asked quietly.

“I did,” he answered, his voice deep, but hushed. “She’s okay,” he added, answering my implied question.

“And Pops?”

He smiled sadly. “The same.”

“Adair,” I said eventually, keeping my voice low. “Is your Pops the reason you got hurt? ”

There was the tiniest flinch at the question before he took a deep breath and answered. “Yes.”

“And Delly doesn’t know?”

“No.”

I nodded, the side of my head rubbing against the seat.

Still, our gazes remained locked, soul-deep understanding passing between us.

“Where are we going?” he asked, settling back into his seat.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice small.

He swallowed thickly, and then with careful movements, he held out his hand. It shook slightly, but only for a second. “Come here, Indigo Girl.”