Page 75 of Before You
“Good boy,” she says, reaching up to pat his cheek.Oh my god, Mirabelle has him wrapped around her finger.“Thanks for meeting us here.”
“Of course,” I say, smiling, but I’m not sure if I should be afraid of her or not.
She adjusts her hat, seeming to need to do something with her hands and I know the feeling all too well. It’s taking everything in me to fight the urge to chew my nails. “Are you excited for the game today?” I ask after a moment, needing to break the silence.
“Yeah, it should be a good one,” Mirabelle says, as the waitress approaches with the plate of cinnamon rolls, and I ask her for a second order. I want her to like me, but I’m not sure what to say. “Listen, Marley, I’m sorry, but I’m going to cut to the chase because I don’t know how else to say it.”
“Mira . . .” Henry murmurs, but she doesn’t look away from me.
“Say what?” I ask, my appetite seeming to fade despite the mouthwatering cinnamon roll in front of me.
“How’s JJ doing?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to decide how I want to answer this. JJ’s made it clear he doesn’t want his family to know he’s struggling with being the one Bailey calls, and he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him. If anything, I thinkJJ needs more people to worry about him. I’m honestly relieved she’s asking, but I don’t want to betray his trust.
I can’t blame JJ for not wanting to worry his parents, especially after seeing how confused his parents were to learn he speaks Italian. I’m not trying to pass judgement, but how invisible has JJ made himself for the sake of his family?
“I’m not sure what to say.” I try to keep my answer vague, even if it feels wrong.
She takes a deep breath, shaking her head. “I hope you know I respect you more for not just rolling over and telling me what’s going on with him. I know I’m a lot and we only met last night, but please believe me when I say I love my brothers and I would do anything for them,” Mirabelle says, staring at me with so much emotion, there’s no way I couldn’t believe her. “JJ’s my best friend, and I need to know if I’m making a big deal out of something in my head before I make it everyone else’s deal.”
This family has been through hell.
I’ve been trying to understand why JJ wouldn’t say anything to anyone about how he’s doing, but it’s all starting to make more sense after meeting everyone. He wears his smile like armor, but not to protect himself—it’s to protect his family from the storm raging inside of him.
“I don’t think you’re wrong to worry about JJ,” I admit, my gut telling me it’s the right thing to do.
Mirabelle seems to be processing this as the waitress delivers more cinnamon rolls, which Mira pushes in front of Henry after I smile brightly at the waitress. “Is it his knee?”
“No, at least, I don’t think so,” I say, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “It’s Bailey.”
Henry chokes on the drink of coffee he’s taking, and Mirabelle’s mouth falls open before she can compose herself, glancing around the table to see if anyone is within earshot of us.
“You know about Bailey?” she asks, her voice wavering over their brother’s name. Henry coughs into his elbow, finally clearing his throat before reaching for Mirabelle’s hand.
“I know he only calls JJ, and it’s taking a toll on him.”
Mirabelle’s eyes shutter as a pained expression flickers across her striking features. She’s slow to open them, and I don’t miss the warning glance Henry directs my way before she does.
“Thank you,” Mirabelle says, mustering a faint smile.
I don’t think either of us feels better, though.
~
Mirabelle was right about their family being recognized at the stadium despite all of them wearing hats and sunglasses. They’re not exactly an inconspicuous bunch with JJ’s dad, Henry, and Hunter towering over most of the people we walk by.
At first, it started with people staring, but it quickly became pointing, and then it felt like I was back in New York City on display with my family.
Mirabelle hooks her arm with mine, a smile pasted on her face. “I give it five minutes in the box before we’re on the Jumbotron,” she whispers, and I raise my eyebrows skeptically.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely, and the first thing I’m doing when we get up there is getting a drink at the bar. If I don’t have one in my hand at all public outings, headlines will run tonight speculating how far along I am,” she continues.
“I wish everyone would just mind their own damn business,” I mumble, recalling all the headlines speculating my mom’s sobriety when I was growing up.
Mirabelle’s dimples pop when she turns to look at me. “Marley, if Hunt’s girlfriend wasn’t Henry’s little sister, I’d say you’re going to be my favorite sister-in-law.”
