Page 38 of Now That It’s You (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #5)

“ L ook at this one! I think it’s my favorite.”

Kyle leaned closer to his mother, peering down at the photograph she marked with the pale pink tip of her fingernail. His heart squeezed into a gooey ball when he saw which image it was.

“That was our first day of Little League.” He stared at the photo, wondering why no one told him his ball cap was so crooked.

Matt looked mischievous and adorable with his missing front tooth and a smattering of freckles across his nose.

Kyle studied the way his brother’s arm looped around his neck in a gesture that was half brotherly love, half strangulation attempt.

“You were so nervous,” his mom said, sliding her fingertip over the faces in the photo as though committing them to memory. “Remember that? Matt played the year before, but this was your first time.”

Kyle remembered. He put an arm around his mom, staring down at the photograph until the faces were burned into his brain. “He took me around so I could meet all the coaches. Then he introduced me to all the players. Said, ‘this is my kid brother. Anyone messes with him, you answer to me.’”

His mom laughed, leaning back against Kyle’s arm like a cat craving affection.

He thought about Floyd the fickle feline and wondered how Meg was doing, but he pushed the thought from his mind for now.

He should be focusing on his mom, on her need for support and love and the affection of her one remaining child.

He should be a better son, dammit. He’d only stopped by today because his afternoon appointment got cancelled at the last minute and he was already in the neighborhood.

It wouldn’t kill him to do a better job making time for her, checking in to be sure she was coping okay.

Hell, he should probably take her to lunch a few times a week or come to dinner on Saturdays the way he used to before it became unbearable to see Matt and Meg together at family meals.

As his palm cupped his mom’s bicep, he noticed how bony she felt. How fragile she was, like she’d crack if he patted her shoulder.

“He was always looking out for you,” she said. “Such a good big brother.” She looked up at him, her smile fading as her eyes went watery. “I know you two didn’t always get along well, but you know he loved you, right?”

Kyle nodded as his throat tightened. “I loved him, too.”

She smiled, but the sadness in her eyes left Kyle feeling like someone was standing on his chest. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Kyle swallowed hard, trying to force the lump back down into his gut.

“I’ve been missing him every day,” he admitted.

“Which seems dumb since we used to go months without speaking. But something funny will happen and I’ll think, ‘I’ve gotta remember to tell Matt about that,’ and then I’ll remember I can’t. Not ever.”

“Oh, honey.” His mom snuggled closer beneath his arm and turned a page in the album.

Kyle thought about the last time he’d had the urge to tell his brother something.

It was the night he’d been cutting up penis vegetables with Meg, and he’d come across a red pepper that looked like it had a scrotum.

He’d laughed so hard he’d nearly stabbed himself in the hand, and he almost pulled out his phone to text Matt a picture of the phallic vegetable.

Then he’d felt like hell, not just because Matt was dead. If he were still alive, would Kyle have told him about Meg? About cooking with her and laughing with her and making love with her in the big bed she’d never shared with anyone else?

Kyle took a deep breath, pretty sure the answer was hell, no .

Which brought him right back to the fact that he was a pretty shitty brother, in addition to being a lousy son.

He let his gaze drop to the photo album again.

So many memories there. His brother fighting with him over who could do cooler tricks on the shared scooter.

The Halloween when they bickered about whether they were too old to trick-or-treat, then cut eye-holes in old bed sheets and ran around the neighborhood pretending to be ghosts.

Prom night when Matt tried to get him to bet over who had the better chance of getting lucky.

The line between affection and rivalry was so blurred in his memory that he honestly wasn’t sure where one stopped and the other started.

“I always loved this one,” his mom said, smoothing her thumb over a shot of them giving the family dog a bath when they were both in middle school.

Matt was smearing a handful of suds into Kyle’s hair, while Kyle laughed and scrubbed Ginger’s ears.

“You might have fought like wild animals half the time, but you laughed together, too.”

“We did,” he said. “I wish we’d done it more. The laughing, I mean. Especially as we got older.”

His mom closed the photo album and looked up at him with tears pooling in her eyes. “I just can’t believe he’s gone. I know it’s been four weeks, but it still doesn’t seem real.”

She took a shaky breath and looked up at the ceiling like that might help her stave off the tears. “He’ll never take another photo or send silly jokes to my email or give me grand babies.”

Kyle pulled her closer, putting both arms around her in an awkward, sideways hug. “I know,” he said, wishing he could think of something more comforting to offer. “I know.”

“Do you think—” she drew back, looking at him with an earnest expression before casting her eyes down at the closed photo album. “Never mind. I suppose now’s not the time.”

“What, Mom? Say it.”

She looked up at him with a flicker of hope in her eyes. “I just wondered if you ever thought about settling down. Finding a nice girl, maybe having a child of your own.”

The ache started deep in Kyle’s chest and spread outward, radiating through his arms and legs. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “Sure,” he said at last. “I’ve thought about it.”

“I mean, I guess you’d want to be in a relationship first. That’s important.”

His subconscious poked him in the ribs. Tell her. Tell her about Meg.

But he couldn’t say that. He didn’t know where things stood with Meg, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about her all week.

They’d called and texted and flirted on the phone until two in the morning in the three days since they’d melted their relationship relics.

Since then, she’d been busy with radio interviews and catering jobs, but they’d made loose plans to see each other Friday night.

He looked at his mom and wondered what she’d think if she knew. Would it break her heart? Lord knew the last thing his mother needed right now was more heartache.

Then again, she used to like Meg. Loved her like a daughter, she’d said, or at least she used to before Meg’s disappearing act.

“I want you to be happy, baby,” his mom was saying. “You’ve dated a lot of lovely girls over the years. I know I told you I thought Cara might’ve been the one?—”

“She wasn’t.” He started to apologize for the gruffness of his reply, but his mom didn’t seem fazed.

“I know that,” she said. “And I know she wanted to get married and you didn’t. So did Melody. So did?—”

“Mom, I couldn’t see myself spending the rest of my life with them.”

She blinked up at him with watery eyes. “So you do see it with someone?”

“I—” he stopped himself, not sure what it meant that he was picturing Meg again.

Meg smiling up at him with a veil in her hair and a bouquet of daisies clutched in her hand.

Meg sleeping beside him, her curls spread across the pillow in a tangled web.

Meg holding a baby— his baby—or cheering at a Little League game or hugging him at a high school graduation ceremony . . .

“I don’t mean someone specific,” his mom said. “But you think there’s a woman out there that you could spend the rest of your life with?”

The hope in her voice was almost too much for him to bear.

He thought about telling her then. About confessing everything, not just the last three weeks of growing closer to Meg, but everything .

The years of pining silently for her, watching from afar, picturing himself in Matt’s shoes, in Matt’s life, in her ?—

“Mom, I?—”

The doorbell chimed, and his mom stiffened under his arm. She glanced toward the door, then looked down at her watch. “She’s early.” Sylvia sighed. “She never could show up on time. Always five minutes early, never right on the hour.”

Kyle felt all the blood drain from his face. He knew someone who fit that description. “Who’s she ?”

“Meg Delaney. She called this morning, said she had something she needed to show me. She’s bringing her lawyer with her, so obviously I’ve got Albert joining me, but he can’t make it until three-thirty.”

His mom stood up and started for the door while Kyle sat frozen on the sofa.

Part of him wanted to flee. Maybe he could make it out the back door and let his mother handle this alone.

Meg had her lawyer, and his mom would have hers.

Neither of them needed him here. A smart man would remove himself from the situation and let them work things out without him.

He stood and grabbed his keys, ready to make a run for it. But the instant his mom threw open the door, his chance of escape vanished. “Hello, Meg,” Sylvia said crisply. “I assume this is your attorney?”

“Franklin Hatfield, pleasure to meet you.”

Kyle stood up, his hands balled at his sides as though his subconscious expected a fistfight.

The room tilted a little as he moved toward the door.

He stepped up beside his mother, who turned and smiled up at him.

The love in her eyes was so fierce that Kyle stepped closer, feeling oddly protective.

Then he looked back at Meg. Her eyes had gone wide, and she looked at him like he was the last person on earth she wanted to see.

“Kyle,” she said, licking her lips. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“I didn’t realize you were stopping by.”