“It wasn’t hard.”
Quinn raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re not the best actor.”
“I didn’t have to act.”
Quinn narrows her eyes, studying me. Out of all my siblings, Quinn and I are the most alike. Other than the year when I referred to her only as “Nadine the Butt Doctor” when we were kids, we’ve—for the most part—gotten along.
“Did Danielle?”
“At first, but then…”
“Oh my God! You guys finally hooked up?”
“Finally?”
Quinn gives me a look. “Everyone knows you’ve been crushing on Danielle since the day you met her. Does Scarlet know? We were so hoping this would happen!”
I shake my head. “You both need a hobby.”
“It’ll be Owen next since you and Danielle are finally together.”
“That’s charity, not a hobby. And Danielle and I…I don’t know.”
“Wait. You hooked up but aren’t together?” Quinn sits at the large island counter.
“We never had a chance to talk about it. We didn’t leave much time for talking.”
“Gross.”
“I don’t want her to think what happened was just a hookup,” I say, feeling really fucking grateful for my sister right now. It used to be me giving her relationship advice and not the other way around. But Quinn is smart, and now she’s married with a kid and another on the way. If I were to take anyone’s advice, it would be hers.
“You love her, don’t you?” she says gently.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Then tell her.”Chapter 27DanielleI open my eyes and roll over. I don’t know what time it is. Or what day it is. All I know is Logan is in bed next to me, and his slow and steady breathing is the only thing keeping me from falling apart. Everything happened so fast.
We got to the hospital. Grandpa seemed like he was going to pull through. And then he was gone.
I slowly get out of bed, needing to use the bathroom. Logan hasn’t even gone home yet since he got back to Eastwood. Everything was so perfect before, and I would give anything to go back to our last night in Hawaii.
After using the bathroom, I go downstairs, following the sound of the TV. Mom is in the living room, drinking wine and watching a baking show. It’s almost four in the morning.
“Mom?”
“Oh, Danielle, honey. You’re up.”
“So are you. Did you get any sleep?”
“A bit here and there.”
I cross my arms over my chest, chilled even though it’s warm in the house. Usually, we’d turn the air conditioning up before going to bed. I hate waking up all sweaty.
But at least I get to wake up.
“Want some company?”
“Yeah, that would be nice.” Mom sets her glass of wine down and pats the couch next to her. Orange Cat is curled up on her lap. “Dad is on a plane right now, and Diana and Peter will be here on Tuesday for the memorial service. You know it was your grandpa’s wish not to have a traditional funeral, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, he mentioned it a few times. Said they were a waste of money and he just wants his ashes scattered in the field where Grandma’s are.”
“It’s fitting.” Mom’s eyes get watery. Both her parents are gone now, and that has to feel so sad and so strange.
I sit on the couch next to Mom. “I made a bunch of Grandma’s pies a few weeks ago.”
“How’d they turn out?”
“Logan liked them. The apple was better than the peach, but I used canned peaches instead of fresh like the recipe said to.”
“Grandma always used fresh everything. She was one of the healthiest eaters I knew, and that was back before clean eating was a fad.”
I smile, looking from the TV to the framed photos of Grandma and Grandpa on the wall. “I wish I could have met her.”
“She would have loved you. And been so proud, just like Grandpa was. And he was so, so proud of you, Danielle.”
My throat gets all tight as I try not to cry. “I’m really going to miss him.”
“I know.” Mom puts her arm around me. “I know. But it’ll get easier.”
I nod because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Tell myself that it gets easier. Remind myself that Grandpa lived a long, good life.
Say it was his time. That he’s with God now. Reunited with Grandma.
But it doesn’t make it any easier.* * *
“Hey.” Logan steps into the kitchen, looking at the mess all over the counter. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed anymore.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” I look out into the living room at Mom, who fell asleep on the couch. It’s going on nine-thirty AM now. “And I couldn’t sit still.”
Logan comes over to the counter, sliding one hand over my back. “My mom bakes when she’s upset too. She says it keeps her busy, and cupcakes make everyone happy.”
I smile, wiping flour off my hands. “I’m nowhere near as good at decorating cakes as your mom is.”