Page 54 of Missed Sunrise
We needed to take care. And maybe that started with simple.
“May I give you an idea?” I asked, my voice softer than the riot in my body.
“Please.”
There was a beat of just-too-long silence as I pried my gaze from his mouth, only to find his eyes open again and his gaze fixed on me. “You need rest, Dezi. You have a new home here in a safe harbor. Bree came over earlier and put fresh sheets on your bed.” I paused, glancing down at the pillow, blanket, and mysterious shoebox he’d slid from under the couch and brought with him, then continued, “Rest until sunrise, and then Bree will help you get the rest of your things moved. She may even do it with a smile if you take her to get a coffee first.”
His lips twitched upward at the last bit. “What about you?”
There was no man more beautiful. Which was why I needed to call in reinforcements to respect the lines he’d drawn, because if he even implied that he wanted me to stay, I would simply never leave. Mustering my resolve, I answered as evenly as I could, putting no tone or edge to any of the words. “I’ll go back to the cottage and do the same. Then I’m headed to Gulf Shores to visit Aunt Ari and Uncle Gil in a few hours.”
His hand that had previously been tracing the texture of the knit blanket halted, and he gripped the material, bunching it up. “You’ve decided to go?”
I made a small concession regarding touching him and reached out to put my hand on top of his, but he intercepted it and turned it over, speaking before I could. “I’d understand if you did. Because of all that nonsense I dumped on you, I mean.”
“Dezi…,” I started, but he shook his head at me without meeting my gaze, stopping me.
He lightly traced the skin around the reddened scrapes with his thumb. “I may go visit my mom in Louisiana after I get my stuff moved over. It’s been a while.”
I had never, not once, heard him talk about his mother.
He’d come close over a year ago, that first time we’d spoken on the phone, but had pushed the subject of his mom aside, only talking about his dad’s aloofness.
And that sat so incredibly wrong, but before I could think on it further, he said, “Take my truck back to the cottage. I don’t like the idea of you walking back at this hour.”
I nodded somewhat dumbly, and then he brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my palm. “And take care of these.”
The space between us brimmed with unspoken words and unnamed dreams as I bore witness to the night’s final refrain: the lightwhishas Cody took his pillow and blanket that I’d considered his from the first night I placed it on the couch forhim, the sudden loud creak and then slam of the truck door, and the following long, heavy measures of silence as his footsteps faded away toward the boat.
Then came the closing fermata, held as long as Cody’s pause at the houseboat door, his macrame leaf key chain clutched tightly in his fist. A long, deep breath, a slide of the key in the lock, and then the music faded completely into the night.
The test beepof a reset fire alarm was unsettling.
The piercing shriek of four of them within a minute of each other was unbearable.
I glanced through the sliding glass door in time to see Vinh gracefully maneuver off the stepladder in his old—and Aunt Ari and Uncle Gil’s new—Gulf Shores condo. I jumped off the new director’s-style chair Ari had thrifted for the balcony, slid open the door, and poked my head inside the condo. “All done?” I asked hopefully, the distress in my voice apparent.
There was a brittle clank as he folded the ladder and nodded. “Until fall, or Thanksgiving at the latest.”
Vinh had been waiting for me when I arrived back at the cottage, his inquiring eyebrow as effective at interrogation as the most seasoned detective, but I wasn’t ready to voice any of it to him. Instead, I’d asked if he were open to a little road trip once the sun was up. Even without my visible distress, my wildly understanding older brother would have agreed.
It was something about him I had to keep in the forefront of my mind so I wouldn’t accidentally take advantage, and if I decided to make more trips to Ari and Gil’s, it probably meant it was time for me to invest in my own transportation. Butthat would have to wait because here we were now, with Vinh tending to his trauma-induced maintenance and me wondering if I packed any underthings in the bag I’d mindlessly crammed things into for this trip.
Vinh collapsed onto the couch, and I took the spot beside him just as the door swung open and a chattering Aunt Ari breezed in, followed by a mildly disgruntled Uncle Gil, whose arms were weighed down by an impressive number of overfilled reusable bags.
We both hurried from the couch to help him, but Aunt Ari intercepted us.
“Boys!” she squealed as she threw her arms around us both—a feat, considering my height difference with Vinh—and pulled us into a fierce hug. “I am so glad you’re both here.”
She stepped back and put her cat-eye glasses on, which had been hanging from her neck on a beaded necklace. After a thorough inspection of us, she clucked her tongue. “My, my. You boys have seen some life now, haven’t you?” She reached up and put her hand on Vinh’s cheek. “My Bub, so handsome, and you even have some smile lines now.” Then her other hand was on my cheek. “And my Liem. As splendid as always.”
This sort of behavior from Aunt Ari always made me wonder if it made more sense or no sense whatsoever that she shared genes with my dad.
“Arizona,”Uncle Gil said in exasperation, his bald head appearing in the cut-out window to the kitchen.
“Oh shush,Gilbert,” she shot back. “These are basically our babies, and justlookat them, would you?”
Ah, yes. This would be just the distraction.
