Page 34 of Don't Forget Me
A sheepish expression crossed her face. “The clothes in my closet aren’t good for every day, but I can at least swim in them.”
Before he could stop her, she ran the length of the dock and dove into the water without an ounce of grace, her stomach slapping the surface with a loud crack
Nick searched desperately for her to emerge, and when her head finally breached the water, he sucked in a breath.
“Sure you don’t want to come in?” She lifted her legs to float on her back. “It feels wonderful.”
“I’m sure.” Explanation failed him, so he turned and trudged back toward the house. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking until he gripped the railing of the deck and climbed the stairs.
Dropping into a deck chair, he didn’t take his eyes from the water or his new friend. If something happened again, he’d be able to stop it, to help.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Stephen’s words didn’t surprise Nick this time. “Don’t.”
“I mean it.” Stephen sat on the deck and stretched his legs in front of him as he followed Nick’s line of sight. “Whatever happened to me, whatever happened that brought you here, it doesn’t define you.”
Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. “But if it doesn’t define me, then…”
“What does?” Stephen’s shoulders fell as he sighed. “I might be dead, bro, but I don’t have the answers. I just know our tragedies don’t make us.”
“But what if tragedy is all I have?”
No answer came because Stephen was already gone.
She came back.
Liz went into the water and everything turned out okay.
Nick wasn’t sure he’d breathed the entire time he watched her arms slice through the surface as she swam farther out. He didn’t think his heart issued a single solitary beat until her long arms pulled her back onto the deck.
And now, he couldn’t shake the feeling they’d averted disaster as she stirred the pot on the stove, lifting on her toes to peer in, a tiny smile curving her lips.
“You look happy.” He cursed himself as soon as he uttered the words because her smile fell and her back stiffened.
“We’re here, Nick.” She didn’t look at him as she reached for the salt, poured some onto her hand, and then sprinkled it in. “There’s nothing we can do about that. I miss my family, I’m worried for them, but walking around here with a scowl on my face isn’t going to help any of us.”
Family, a word he was so unused to. He met Sherrie’s brother once—a hotshot, upcoming director—but it was a business lunch more than anything else. He’d wanted Nick to star in his newest indie film.
Nick had said no. He hadn’t been in the business of helping people, especially not in the years following his brother’s death. But Liz didn’t talk about her family the way Sherrie did, with a braggart’s pause before spilling their newest accomplishments as if they were her own.
Instead, she kept them to herself like something precious she didn’t want to share.
And it only made him want to know more. Pulling himself onto the counter, he dangled his legs over the edge and looked down at Liz, trying to figure her out. “Tell me about them?”
“About who?” She lifted a spoon to her lips to taste the sauce.
“Your family. We decided to be friends, right? Who is waiting for you back in the real world?” What he really meant was who sat near her hospital bed, praying for her return. He wasn’t sure anyone sat next to his.
Liz didn’t respond as she pulled out another pot and filled it with water before setting it on the stove. “The pasta should be done soon.”
Nick jumped down, approaching her. “I…” He pushed a hand through his hair. “The whole friends thing is new to me, okay? But I think friends know more about each other.”
She pressed her back against the counter as he got closer, too close. Realizing his mistake, he took a step back, his eyes pleading with her. “I just want to know you.”
He couldn’t explain it, this pull to see inside her head, behind those guarded eyes. They didn’t know each other, but she was defiant, fighting back at him in a way no one had since Stephen. Hollywood had a way of warping reality, and he’d forgotten people like this existed.
People who didn’t want anything from him.
