“And he likes Moose Tracks, too. Just like Daddy. And he’s a doctor just like Daddy.”
“Lots of people like Moose Tracks. And lots of people are doctors. Uncle Wes is not your daddy. He’s a different person.”
She turned onto her side and hugged her new stuffed elephant close.
“Want me to sing another song?”
“No. I’m tired.”
“Okay. Night, baby.”
“Night.”
I kissed her forehead and left the room, leaving the door open.
Downstairs, I noticed the porch light was on, the front door was closed, and Wes’s car was gone.
Thank God. I’d had enough for one night. And I
’d have to think up an excuse for tomorrow. Clearly, Abby needed some time to process the fact that Wes was not Drew and couldn’t fill that role.
To be honest, so did I.
Four
WES
I rolled down the windows and took the long way home, needing some time and space to think before facing what would surely be an inquisition by my mother the moment I walked in the door.
She’d annoyed me earlier when she said she didn’t want to go see Abby with me because she never felt comfortable in Hannah’s house. She’d wanted them to come to her house. “Well, that’s not what I suggested, Mom. I want to make this as comfortable as possible for them, and she accepted my offer to drop by. I don’t want to switch things up on her.”
“But six is dinnertime, and I’m making my gourmet mac and cheese for dinner. You love my mac and cheese.”
“Save me some.”
Except I’d eaten dinner at Hannah’s house. I could just imagine how that was going to go over.
Propping my left elbow on the window, I rubbed my index finger beneath my lower lip. She still has the prettiest smile.
But there was so much sadness in her eyes. She only really smiled when she looked at her daughter. Was she happy?
I frowned. No, asshole. Of course she’s not happy. She lost her husband, the person with whom she had a child and an entire life planned. You saw her nearly fall apart tonight just because she can’t bring herself to put the lightbulbs on a shelf where she can reach them. There must be a hundred moments like that in a day.
My heart ached for both of us. I couldn’t get the memories of Drew out of my head, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what should have been. I wanted to help her, but how? Did she even want me around? Tonight had seemed comfortable enough—maybe a little tense at the start, but I felt like she was able to smile and relax a bit. And I loved that she felt close enough to me to break down a little. To tell me what she was feeling. It felt like trust, and it had made me want to wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, tell her I missed him too, but everything would be okay.
But I hadn’t. I couldn’t. She wasn’t mine to touch that way—she never had been.
And then right after that, something changed. She hadn’t even looked at me when she said goodbye. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even said goodbye. It was like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
You shouldn’t have touched her at all.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Was that it? Had she been upset that I’d rubbed her back? I’d only done it to soothe her, to let her know she wasn’t alone, to be there for her. And if I left it there a little too long, it was only because I knew the power of human touch. Not only as a physician, but as a person who often felt that words failed him. Or maybe it was me who failed words. Either way, I’d only wanted to comfort her.
Are you sure? asked a voice in my head.
Frowning, I pulled into my parents’ driveway and tried to convince myself that there was nothing untoward about my concern for Hannah. That was ridiculous, wasn’t it? So many years had gone by since I’d harbored that stupid, one-sided crush. For God’s sake, I’d been the best man at their wedding, and I’d been genuinely happy for Drew even as I continued to silently envy him and admire her. And maybe I still found her pretty, but I wasn’t drawn to her any longer because of my feelings. We had a connection—we had both loved Drew more than anyone else in the entire world, and we felt his absence most deeply.
The front door to my parents’ house had barely clicked shut behind me when I heard my mother’s voice.