Page 75 of This Broken Heart
Erin disappears into her room with Maven and a few minutes later, both girls emerge looking like they got visited by their fairy godmother.
I don’t know where to look first. The dress my mom picked out for Maven is ridiculously over the top. The forest green skirt is so poofy it nearly swallows her up. She looks like a God damn princess and it’s making my heart feel so full.
I’m avoiding looking directly at Erin, because I know that’ll do other things to my heart. Maven prances forward and I scoop her up. She turns back, pointing at Erin. “Pretty.”
I force myself to look, hoping my ears aren’t turning beet red. “Yes. Very pretty.”
Erin looks good in anything, but tonight, she’s pulled out the big guns. Her dress is green, too, and velvety. It skims her shoulders, sloping down her chest. She put on more makeup than normal. I usually prefer a natural look, but this look is out of this world. She’s said she thinks I’m out of her league, but I’m realizing she had it backwards. I’m just a redneck from the sticks.
She’s a star.
Eyes that I thought were blue might actually be green. But it’s those lips that have their own gravitational pull. She put on cherry red lipstick and its making her lips look good enough to eat. My brain supplies me with an image of what they might look like wrapped around my shaft and then I really am blushing.
With a cough, I turn and beat a hasty retreat.
Keeping my mind out of the gutter is going to take all of my focus, but that’s a good thing. I’d rather be struggling with that demon than the ghosts that are threatening to pull me apart.
We drive to church, listening to Trace’s entire program as he rehearses, loudly, from the backseat. When we get there, the parking lot is already full. I pull Maven out and hold her close. Erin takes Trace’s hand and we walk towards the church.
It seems to loom over us. The closer we get, the slower my feet become until I’m stopped in the middle of the lot, staring at the spot where the hearse was.
Erin looks back, tilting her head.
I clear my throat. “I haven’t been back since the…”
The funeral.
I don’t have to finish the statement. Her face softens in an expression of compassion that makes my eyes burn. Reaching out, she takes my hand and the four of us walk into the church.
Dad and Charlie are waiting in the lobby for us. Dad practically melts when he sees how gussied up Maven is. I set her on the ground and she scampers over to him. Trace and Erin follow behind. Charlie pulls me aside. “You brought the nanny?”
“She wasn’t going to come, but then Trace flipped out.”
Charlie flips her hair over her shoulder. “Well, it’s a packed house. I’m not sure where she’s going to sit.”
“With me.”
“We’re already squished in the pew like sardines, Josh.”
“Then I’ll sit somewhere else.”
I ask my dad if they mind taking the kids during the service. Of course, he doesn’t. As long as he’s got Maven, he doesn’t care if I sit on the moon.
Erin watches my family filter back into the sanctuary. “Why aren’t you going to sit with your family?”
“Too crowded.” I say with a shrug.
“You should be with your family, Josh. I can find a seat in the back.”
“You’re sitting with me.” I say, my voice a little gruffer than I intended. “Honestly? I didn’t want to come at all. This is going to be… hard. I’m not sure if I’m going to make it through the whole thing. I’d rather be able to slip out the back.”
She reaches out, squeezing my hand. “Okay, yeah. Let’s sit in the back.”
I’m sure tongues will be wagging. Erin is a bombshell beauty. She draws the eye just by merely existing, but she’s touching my hand. The tragic widow. The story will spread like wildfire.
And yet, I don’t want her to let go.
Her touch is the only thing keeping me from falling to pieces.