I sighed, holding my hand to my face. “You’re right. I haven’t called. You still don’t get to send your goon to stalk me. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Tyler’s entire family is witnessing this!”
Abby touched my shoulder. “This isn’t the worst thing they’ve seen. Don’t be embarrassed.”
Finley sniffed.
“Damn it, Fin, don’t cry.”
“I miss you. You’re my best friend. I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
“She’s crying?” Marco said, horror in his eyes.
“Tell Marco to come home. I’ll check in at least once a week, I promise. I just … I’m not one hundred percent yet. I’ve relapsed.”
“Ellie … we can help you with that. We want to help. There are amazing places you can go. Just say the word…”
“I can do it on my own.”
“Maybe you can … but why, if you don’t have to?”
I mulled over her suggestion, wanting it as much for me as I did for the people who loved me. I glanced back at the Maddox house. “I’ll think about it.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, baby sister. We miss you. We wish you were here … even Mom.”
I choked out a laugh. “Send home your slave.”
Marco held up his hands. “She pays me very well, Miss Edson, and I love so much what I do.”
I rolled my eyes. “Send him home. I’m sure he misses you.”
“Okay,” she said. “I love you.”
I hung up the phone, shut Marco’s door, and made sure his phone rang before tucking my own phone in my back pocket. Abby hooked her arm in mine as we walked across the street.
“Edson, huh? Like Edson Tech?”
“Yeah,” I said, cringing and squinting in the afternoon sun.
“Relapse?”
I sighed. No point in denying it any longer. “I’m a drunk, Abby. My parents invoked the last resort of tough love. I was pretty out of control.”
“My mom’s a drunk, too. I remember when she tried so hard not to be.”
“She couldn’t kick it?”
“Not alone, and she’s too proud to ask for help.”
I looked down at the ground, kicking at the uneven sidewalk with my boots. “I don’t deserve Fin’s help. I don’t deserve anyone’s help.”
“Did Tyler tell you about Travis and me?”
“Not a lot.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing back at the house. “I was sure he was wrong for me. My family was worse than dysfunctional. My father nearly got me killed. I pushed Travis away, thinking he was bad for me, and then I pushed him away again, thinking I was bad for him. Turns out, when I finally let him in, all the bullshit fell away, and we could just be good together.”
“I’ve known all along I was bad for Tyler. He won’t listen.”
“When a Maddox boy falls in love, he loves forever…” Abby mused.
“What?”
“If he’s in love with you—and just the fact that you’re here tells me he is—he’s not going to give up on you. I can see that you care about him.”
I nodded. “He’s a good friend.”
She narrowed her eyes. Her radar was going off. “Right.”
“I do,” I blurted out. “I care about him. I might even … I feel guilty that I can’t seem to let him in or let him go. Either way feels wrong.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” Abby said without hesitation. “But your sister is right. You don’t love yourself right now. That’s why you can’t get things right with Tyler. That’s why you don’t want to.”
I breathed out a frustrated laugh. “I need a drink.”
“I’ll make you one. But if I were you, I’d take all the help I could get if it meant happiness was on the other side. And believe me … these boys … when they’re happy? It’s like living in a fairy tale. They don’t know how to half-ass anything, and loving someone is no exception.”
The brothers stepped out onto the porch with Camille just as Marco pulled away from the curb. Tyler descended the steps and crossed the yard, hooking his arm around my shoulder. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“Finley?” he asked.
“We’re good. I haven’t called. They were worried about me.”
He kissed my temple. “C’mon. You’re freezing.”
Tyler guided me inside with Abby trailing behind. Travis instantly hugged her and rubbed his hands along her upper arms. Then he cupped her hands and blew on them. They stared into each other’s eyes like they were privy to a secret. Suddenly, gross didn’t seem so bad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tyler helped me with my coat, and then we settled in to watch documentaries on Netflix—Jim’s favorite pastime, apparently.
Tyler and I sat on the sofa next to Travis and Abby. Trent and Camille made a pallet on the floor and whispered while he drew on the palm of her hand with a Sharpie. Jim was sitting in his recliner, his eyes getting heavier by the minute.
I leaned in to Tyler’s ear. “Where’s Taylor?”
“On his way. He had to take care of some things, first.”
I nodded. “And the oldest? Is it Thomas?”
“Yeah, he was invited to his boss’s house this year. Couldn’t say no.”
I nodded again. Tyler relaxed back against the worn sofa cushion, resting his hand on my knee. No one bugged us about our ambiguous friendship like I worried they would. We all just sat around, spending time together in what seemed to be an uncharacteristically peaceful Maddox moment.
Just as the credits of our second documentary of the night began to roll, the front door swung open, and Taylor dropped his duffel bag.
“Wake up, dick heads! I’m home!”
Trent and Travis jumped up and immediately tackled their brother, all three of them falling outside onto the porch with a thud. After a few seconds of scuffle, Tyler sighed.
“I’ll be right back.”
He rushed over to aid his twin, and I winced a few times when I saw the grappling escalate.
With some effort, Jim pushed himself up from the chair, making his way to the door. “All right, all right! That’s enough!” He used his foot to poke at the writhing pile of Maddox boys, and then Travis finally broke out of the dog pile and began separating the others.