Page 14 of Love Notes & Lifelines
He doesn’t say anything, but keeps his grin plastered to his face and settles into the wingback chair across from my desk, then waits for me to sink into the plush leather of mine.
I drop a few bags beside his chair, grab a folder the attorney had given me out of one of them, then set it down on my desk. The second my ass hits the chair, I go into a catatonic state. I don’t even blink until Elijah waves a hand in front of my face.
“What’s going on out there, Beck?”
For a moment, I’m too overwhelmed to speak, so I shake my head. Take a breath. Then manage, “They’re my—my sister’s girls. She’s dead.” The weight of those words hangs resonant in the air.
His face falls and contorts as he processes my words. “I’m so sorry,” he says, as stunned as I am.
“Cancer.” I hear my voice, but it’s stilted and strange. “It happened a few days ago. She asked for her cremation to take place before they contacted me. She didn’t want a service. I—I guess the girls were with my cousin until now.”
Elijah rises from his chair and walks purposefully toward the bar in the corner of my office. He fills a glass with ice cubes and two fingers of bourbon before returning to me. I’ve never enjoyed straight bourbon, but today I’ll make an exception.
A squeal of pure joy comes from one of the girls and the level of responsibility I’m tasked with punches me in the throat. I can’t drink right now. Not when I have to figure out their shit. My gaze lingers on the door separating us until Elijah breaks my concentration.
“They’re in good hands. Stella can handle this.”
Stella. “That’s it,” I say, standing so quickly my chair rolls into the wall of windows behind me.
“Ah, what’s it?”
“Stella. She can be their nanny until I figure this out.”
Elijah’s face contorts, and it creates a heavy, uncomfortable pang in my chest. I’m aware of how close they’ve become, but what is he privy to in her life that I’m not? Never in my life have I wanted to belong to a clique as much as I do now.
Want, not need.It’s an important distinction.
“There are other options, Beck. Ones that will probably work better for the both of you,” he says, focusing on his suspenders. “She has a lot on her plate. A lot of responsibilities that mean she keeps a tight schedule, and your schedule is anything but stable.”
“Is that why she’s playing taxi in your car?”
“Yes,” he states curtly with no further explanation.
I stare at him until he shrugs. “It’s not my story to tell. She deserves privacy too, but know this. Every day is a struggle for her, and she never asks for anything from anyone. Do not make things more difficult for her with Caleb.”
I sigh and drag the chair back to my desk, then sit. “My sister died, and I wasn’t there.” I drop my head to my desk. “And she died alone because fucking Davis went rappelling two years ago. They called it a freak accident. Found his mangled body at the bottom of a ravine. She had to handle that grief on her own too—while raising a toddler and being pregnant.”
Why didn’t I pick up the phone? Just once—that’s all it would have taken.
He sits quietly and allows me to grieve out loud. He has always believed I was wrong for ignoring Cally’s phone calls, and now I’m drowning in guilt because he was right. I should have picked up the phone.
“So,” he says after a long silence. “You have two options.” I sit upright and pinch the bridge of my nose when tears obstruct my view.
“What’s that?” I ask, leaning so my forearms rest on the cool surface of my desk. I’m too antsy to sit still and too angry to move. Instead, I open the folder that contains everything left in those little girls’ lives.
Passports that have never been used.
Birth certificates. Emmy and I share a birthday—March 25th. My chest constricts.
Note after note from my sister, listing all their likes, dislikes, and everything in between. She planned for her death.
“You allow the guilt to consume you, or you become the man your sister expected you to be.” He holds a small black card in the air.
“What is that?”
Elijah slides it across my desk. In swirling baby-pink script, it saysThe Single Dad Hotline.
“What the hell is that? I’m not a dad. Is this a sex line?” Holy shit. When you become a parent do you automatically lose your sex life too? Can I do that?
