Page 133 of June First
It feels like an eternity passes us by before he shakes his head. “No, Son. You didn’t make a mistake.”
I’m not entirely sure I believe him.
All I can envision is June sobbing on my bedroom floor, clutching her elephant, her chest caving in while she tries to breathe.
My chin dips, my gaze landing on the floor. Fixating on the blotchy carpet riddled with old stains, vacuumed over in an attempt to appear new.
This is what I traded June for.
Four hollow walls and discolored carpeting.
A new beginning, tainted with the stains of the spills I left behind.
She’s outside tending to the lilac bushes and foliage that line the front of the house when I park my Highlander beside the familiar vehicle sitting idle in the driveway.
Her back is to me, a wide-brimmed hat shielding her from the scorching August sun.
I watch her for a few minutes. She has earbuds popped into both ears, making her unaware of my arrival. Dirt from the garden smudges her cotton shorts and tank top while a flush of pink stains her porcelain skin.
I’m transported back to summers long ago when she’d be sunburned and filthy after hours of playing outside beneath the heated sky, her light-brown hair shimmering golden when the light hit it just right. I can almost hear her childlike laughter.
The screen door claps shut, loud enough that June pokes her head up and yanks out her earbuds. A smile stretches on her face as Kip steps onto the front porch, wearing his everyday attire.
He smiles back at her.
My teeth scrape together.
She saunters toward Kip, lifting a hand to hold her hat in place when a warm breeze floats by, then falters midstep. June pauses before spinning to face the driveway.
Our eyes lock through the windshield. Swallowing, I muster the courage to push open the driver’s side door and make myself known.
Kip offers a friendly wave as he moves down the cobblestone walkway. “Brant. Hey.”
“Hey.” I slip my keys into my back pocket. “What brings you by?”
My gaze must shift pointedly to June because he hesitates for a beat, reading me, then issues a reassuring smile. “I’m helping Andrew with a kitchen project. Refinishing the cabinets. He needs something to keep him busy…keep his mind busy.”
June fidgets, then turns away, tinkering with a pair of gardening gloves.
I skate my attention back to Kip, guilt snagging me. “Can I help?”
“Nah,” he says, giving me an amiable smack on the shoulder. “You’ve got enough on your plate. I’m just trying to be useful where I can—and that goes for you, too. I’m just a phone call away.”
My lips twitch with gratitude.
Kip has been a beacon of strength over the last two months since Theo died, and honestly, I don’t know how he does it.
He was the one Theo saved.
Theo sacrificed himself…for him.
The weight of a burden like that sounds backbreaking, so it boggles my mind that Kip manages to still stand tall, taking on our added weights and offering his heartfelt support when his own heart must be suffocating.
And then there’s me.
The guy who deserted his family during their time of need. The asshole who ran away like a coward.
The self-proclaimed protector who abandoned the girl he vowed to take care of.