Page 35 of See It Through

She snorted. “No, you’re not. Just stay away from the house for a while. You’ll get over it.”

“I doubt that. Remember when I dropped my entire soda down my shirt on my first date with Kyle?”

“Um…no. You dated a Kyle? Which one? Kyle Thompson?”

“Yes, Kyle Thompson. I was thirteen. It was my first date.”

“Okay…sorry if I forgot Kyle. Why are we talking about him?”

“Because”—I swung my legs around to sit up—“whenever I remember that date, I get nauseous. He laughed for a split second before helping me clean up. It was so sweet, but all that stuck with me was his half-second laugh. I barely remember anything else about that date.”

She puffed up her cheeks to slowly blow out a breath. “Okay, so we accept you’ll be mortified forever. Remi most likely doesn’t have that problem. I bet he’s already forgotten all about it.”

I sprung to my feet, incensed. “Am I so forgettable? Is that what you’re saying?”

She giggled at me—it was the only thing to do in the face of my irrationality—and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing with her. It stopped me from spiraling further despite already twisting myself pretty deep in a pit of despair.

“You’re so dramatic, Banana,” Phoebe chimed sweetly as she made her way to her small kitchen. “I have a few extra pistachio macarons. Would you like one or five?”

“You know the answer to that.”

She came to me with a pink box in her hands. “Five.”

“Exactly.”

I let her distract me because this was Phoebe’s baking. It could cure any woe for a while, and since actually becoming incorporeal wasn’t going to happen, I’d take it.

A week later, I had almost returned to normal. There were moments when it all came rushing back and I had to pause what I was doing so I could melt with shame, but for the most part, I had moved on.

Spending next to no time at the house had helped a lot with this. I’d still had to drop by to pick up my tools and do a few things in the office, but I’d breezed in and out. And by “breezed,” I meant I snuck in like a thief in the night.

It might not have been the mature solution, but it was what I’d needed to handle the rejection, still blazing quietly in the background.

Tonight was family dinner night. They were something I always looked forward to, but this one even more than the rest. My grandparents had finally gotten back from their month-long European cruise, and I absolutely couldn’t wait to hear the tales they had to tell.

Well, my grandmother would do most of the telling while Granddad watched her. It was his way and what worked for them. They were cute as pie.

I kicked my boots off at the door and hurried into the kitchen. Dad and my grandfather were at the table, shucking corn like always. I beelined for Granddad first, throwing my arms around his neck before he could even put the corn down.

He chuckled beside my ear as I sucked in his scent, not realizing how much I’d missed everything about him until now. Our house was right beside his. Growing up, I’d see him pretty much every day, and he’d always been at the center of my life, truly the heart of our family.

“It’s good to see you too, darlin’,” he cooed gruffly.

“Don’t use up all her hugs, Connell.”

With a wide grin, I let go of my grandfather and straightened just in time to be embraced by Lily Smythe-Kelly, my glamorous, worldly grandmother. She smelled expensive, and her skin was soft as velvet. Like Mom, she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who lived on a ranch, and for the first ten years of my life, she hadn’t. But she and my grandfather had made their way back to each other and had been inseparable ever since. I got the sense she’d live in a trash heap if he were there with her.

She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. “Oh,gorgeous. How have you been, my love?”

“Good.” I nodded. “But we don’t need to talk about me. I want to hear everything about your cruise.”

She waved me off. “I hardly have the energy to tell the same story multiple times. Let’s wait until those siblings of yours arrive. For now, I want to hear about you. You don’t look as sad as you did when we left, but you’ve always been good at hiding things from us.”

“Mom,” Dad warned softly, “let her be.”

She glanced at my father over her shoulder, unbothered by his admonishment. “I’m asking the questions that should be asked, Lachlan.” She faced me again, her rose-colored lips curving into the gentlest smile. “Now, tell me.”

I sucked in a breath then let it all out. “The sadness comes in waves, but it’s not all the time, and it doesn’t drag me under. I miss him terribly, but I’m relieved he isn’t suffering or in pain. Going into his house when he’s not there still feels unnatural, and I hate that.”