Page 85 of Easton
“Yeah, still seeing the therapist. We’re in this together, little brother.”
“I like the sound of that.”
He steps back for Rhett to approach, my oldest brother looking unsure. “You did good, East,” he finally says.
“Yeah, I did.”
“I’m proud of you. I…yeah, good job. You deserve it.” He surprises me with a hand on the back of my head, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead.
I don’t know how to react for a moment. I’m twenty-eight years old—I spent my birthday in inpatient—and that’s the first time in my life my brother has ever kissed me.
“Uncle Archer’s been bringing me to your house. I’ve been playing with the dogs a lot. I made them some new clothes too,” Meadow says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Hey, you.” I smile at her. “Thank you. I’m sure they love them. I appreciate your hanging out with them while I was gone. Hope you’ll still come over now that I’m back.”
“I have a room at Uncle Archer’s house…”
“He’s gonna live with me…you can have a room at mine too.”
Meadow grins, and I feel like a million fucking dollars.
After all the hellos, everyone congregates in the living room. The house smells like some kind of stew, which is perfect for the cold weather outside.
Simone is sitting in an armchair, holding a little bundle in her arms.
“Go say hello,” Cora says, giving me the push I need.
I walk over and kneel beside her. Hazel’s got tons of dark hair, curly like her mom’s, now that Simone has taken it out of her braids. She’s sleeping, her little eyes closed, cheeks squishy.
“Meet your niece, Uncle Easton,” Simone tells me. It’s been said before, but hearing it now, in this situation, makes my head snap up, looking at Cora and Archer, at their parents, these people who have so lovingly taken me into their family.
“I…thank you. She’s beautiful.” My eyes tear up.
“Do you want to hold her?” Cora asks.
“Can I?”
“Of course,” Simone replies.
I’ve never held a baby before, and Simone stands so I can sit, then puts her in my arms. “She’s so small. I’m scared I’ll hurt her.”
“You won’t,” Cora insists.
I lean over, smell her baby scent, kiss her forehead…think of Ella…and smile. She loved baby dolls when we were kids, used to talk about being a mom, and though she’s not speaking to me in my head, I feel her, know she’s smiling and happy for me.
I hold the baby for a long while. Everyone talks around me and to me, but I’m distracted by the little bundle in my arms. She’s so small, so sweet. She smells like the future, and I just want to watch her breathe.
Frank asks about Morgan’s bar, and I listen, still looking at the baby.
“I think it’s going to be real good,” Morgan says.
“He got a surprise delivery of these incredible handcrafted barstools,” Dusty says. “We have no idea where they’re from, but they’re perfect.”
My head snaps up, my gaze landing on Rhett. I remember the table in his house…when he came out covered in sweat and sawdust…and I know they’re from him. That he’s…making furniture? It’s so far removed from what I ever imagined for Rhett. I didn’t even know he likes working with his hands, but I know to the marrow of my bones that it’s true, that he makes things and that he did this for Morgan.
I open my mouth, but he gives a small shake of his head, and I close it again.
“They’re my favorite thing in the place,” Morgan says. “I wish I knew where they came from so I could thank whoever sent them, maybe order some more products.”