Page 35 of Take This Heart
Goldie returns with both drinks, ignoring our smirks, focused only on getting her dad comfortable. She fluffs the pillow behind him and gently rubs his back when he coughs. She tucks an eye mask next to him and kisses the top of his head.
The way she loves him undoes me.
It shows in every breath she takes.
I don’t say much. I don’t trust my voice not to crack. But when her dad drifts off and she comes to sit next to me on the couch, I reach for her hand. She lets me take it, lets me thread my fingers through hers. Her other hand still holds the ginger tea, growing cold.
“You’re kind of incredible,” I whisper.
She looks at me, surprised. “I’m just being a daughter.”
“Exactly.”
She exhales a long, weary breath.
I feel a gut-punch of—I don’t even know what—for her.
Warmth? Longing?
Not because she’s beautiful, or smart, or stubborn enough to drive me up the wall. But because she shows up. When it’s hard. When it’s messy.
When most people would run, Goldie Whitman stays.
I have no idea what to do with all these…feelings.
“I’m fascinated with large families. I always wished I had siblings,” I blurt out.
She turns to look at me. “Really? It’s just you?”
I nod. “My parents wanted more kids but weren’t able to have them…”
She winces. “That’s really hard. Are you close to your parents?”
“Very.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without my brothers. We might all be a little too co-dependent, but it works for us.” She shrugs. “I think when you lose a parent, the family either scatters with the loss or they grow even closer. We’ve definitely grown closer.”
Seeing the way she loves her brothers makes me long for what I never had.
I call my parents after dinner. I’m pacing the shoreline behind the lake house, enjoying the longer days with more sunshine. The second Mom answers, I regret how long it’s been since I checked in.
“Milo!” she says, voice bright. “You’re alive. I miss your face. Lake Minnetonka is not that far, you know.”
I smile. “I know. I miss yours too. And I’m sorry. Let’s do dinner next week. How’s Dad?”
“We would love that. Dad’s here. Being nosy. Say hi, Anthony.”
“Mio figliolo!” my dad booms in the background. “Come stai?You still working too much?”
“Always.”
“When are you ever going to find a woman, working all the time?”
“Okay,” I cut in, laughing. “We’re not doing that tonight.”
Mom laughs too. “Are you doing all right, honey? You sound a little...tense.”
I sigh and sink onto one of the big rocks. “I’m fine. Just dealing with some stuff up here. I’ve been working on a project out by Lake Superior…Windy Harbor.”
