Page 26

Dustin

W e take the first available flight back to Heaven. From the time Dee phoned to us pulling into the hospital parking lot, Tina said hardly a word. I expected tears, but there have been none. Her lack of emotion worries me more than if she completely broke down.

It reminds me too much of the back-to-back funerals where she sat stoically through her boyfriend’s memorial and then my parents’ with this blank look on her face. Worse were the days after when she was a shell of the girl I knew, like her memories had all been wiped away with their ashes. Including memories of me.

Like a zombie, she locates the floor we need on the directory, heading for the bank of elevators. I follow, ready to catch the pieces if they fall. We exit on the third floor, make a left, and I spot my godparents right away. Dee rushes over and takes Tina by the hand, ushering her to a chair where they can speak more privately.

“How is she?” Stan asks, concern creasing his brow.

My parents had a tight group of friends growing up—Christian being one, Frank being another, and rounding out the group were Stan and Dee. They all went to grade school together and stayed thick over the years. When my parents started having kids, they named Stan and Dee our godparents, but the collective had a hand in helping when they died. I always suspected having us to worry about saved Dee from spiraling when she lost Connor.

“Honestly, I have no clue. Tina hasn’t spoken much since Dee called.”

He hums. “It can’t be easy. He’s the only family she has left.”

She has me. A knot loosens in my gut when I see Tina speaking with Dee. Still no tears, though, but it’s something. The two women stand, exchanging a hug before Tina disappears through a set of doors.

Dee walks over to where Stan and I are standing and pulls my face to hers for a kiss, then leans back to study me with both hands framing my face. “How much do you know about Tina’s situation?” My frown says it all. “Oh, honey.” She takes my hand. “Let’s sit.”

Turns out, things with Tina and her grandpa are worse than I thought. Financially, they’re complete wrecks. When Stan and Dee heard the James’s were selling their house, they confronted their son’s old girlfriend. She broke down and confessed everything, begging them not to tell her grandpa the extent of their money troubles. But even if they sold the house and everything else of value, they’d still be under water. And that’s not even the worst of it. Seems Tina, who was turned away from every bank around because of her poor credit, resorted to borrowing money from a loan shark.

I drag both of my hands down my face. “What was she thinking?”

Dee shakes her head. “Don’t be too hard on her. She was doing what she thought best.”

“How could digging yourself in deeper be best?”

“Dustin Case,” she scolds like only someone who’s known me since birth can. “Do not judge people until—”

Not in the mood, I hold up my hand. “Spare me the ‘walk in her shoes’ speech, okay?”

Stan narrows his eyes in warning. I’m reminded of all the years I received “the look” growing up. I was a handful, to say the least. I deflate. “Sorry. I just can’t believe she didn’t come to you two first.” Another look passes between them, and I throw up my hands. “What?”

“She had her reasons.” I roll my eyes and Dee sighs. “Look, I’m not saying she’s right in taking the route she took. All I’m saying is I understand her reasons behind it.”

“And you’re not going to tell me what they are.” It’s not a question because I already know the answer.

Tina’s grandpa is the one to finally kick her out of his room, demanding she go home and rest before she collapses. Once the nurse reassures her everything looks good, Tina agrees to leave, promising to come back tomorrow. Stan and Dee insist Tina stay with them, but she refuses, proving she can be more mule than mouse on some things.

Dee gives me a pleading look. “I’ll take care of her,” I say. “Don’t worry.”

Dee smiles. “You’re a good man, Dustin.”

I wince. If she knew what an ass I’ve been so far she wouldn’t think so. “Debatable. But I’ll be decent for now.”

I steal glances at Tina as we walk to my car. She looks exhausted and so sad I want to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. She lets me help her into the front seat and buckle her in without saying a word. It’s only when I pass the turn-off to her house she straightens in her seat. “Where are we going?”

“To my place.”

A sound comes from her, part sigh, part whimper, and it nearly does me in. “I don’t think I can do this”—she waves a hand between us—“whatever this is, right now.”

I’ve given her every reason to think I’d be an asshole but her words still sting. The light turns red and I roll to a stop before facing her. She doesn’t stop me when I run a thumb over the shadow under her eye and I call that a win. “We both need sleep and I don’t think you should be alone.”

She looks out the front windshield. “The light’s green.”

I drive another mile before speaking again. “Do you want to be alone?”

She shakes her head. Another win.

I unlock the front door, letting Tina precede me inside the house. I toss our bags at the bottom of the stairs. Her gaze moves around the space, taking it all in. I want to ask her what’s going through her head, but I’m not sure I want to know. The last time she was here was after the funerals. It wasn’t a good time for any of us. I want to take her back out front and sit on the porch swing, cradle her in my lap like I did then. It was the last time we were close.

The place smells stale from being closed up for days, so I open the slider to the backyard and a nice breeze blows in. I sigh right along with the house. “You hungry?” I ask, not looking away from the yard. Her stomach growls and I smile. “Come on, I’ll feed you and then we’ll sleep.”

We demolish our sandwiches and she toys with her chips. I sit back in my chair and fold my hands over my stomach. She looks better after getting some food in her belly, but she seems ready to crash. I take both our plates to the sink, rinse and load them in the dishwasher, returning to her side when finished. She looks at my outstretched hand for a second before taking it. I guide her upstairs with a hand on her lower back. We bypass the spare bedrooms and enter mine.

She sits on the edge of the bed, and I kneel to remove her shoes. Goosebumps form on her flesh when I linger on her ankles, tracing the soft skin. She sighs. “Tell me something good, Dusty.”

Once I settle her into bed, I toe off my shoes and climb in behind her, pull her back snug to my front and bury my face in her hair. The hospital smell lingers, but my soap and her citrus scent are there too. Her body slowly relaxes, turning heavy in sleep.

I wait until I’m sure she’s out before whispering, “Holding you feels good.”