Hope
After Rock sendsme a text saying things are calmer at Teller’s house, I pack Grace’s things and head for my car.
When I arrive a few minutes later, Murphy’s truck is in the driveway, facing the road, as if he wanted to be prepared to make another quick getaway.
My heart hurts for all the pain we’ve caused.
I catch sight of Murphy and Rock in the backyard. While Alexa’s happily watching the chickens, the guys seem deeply involved in their conversation. Deciding to leave them to work out their issues, I gather Grace and tap on the front door.
Teller opens it a few seconds later. “Hey.”
“Can I talk to Heidi?”
“Yeah, of course.” He opens the door wider.
The house is quiet. The emotional fireworks must’ve fizzled.
My guilt isn’t as simple to snuff out.
“Hey, Gracie.” Teller holds out his arms for his little sister. “Here, let me take her?”
“Sure.”
Grace lights up as Teller pulls her into his arms. “She’s in the living room.”
“Okay.” As much as I’ve dreaded this moment, in a way, I’m relieved it’s finally here.
Heidi’s on the couch, staring at her phone. She leans forward and sets it on the coffee table. “Hey, Hope.”
Good grief, how can I not know what to say? I’ve had plenty of time to prepare. “How are you?” I ask carefully.
“Fine.” Her answer’s clipped. Unlike Heidi.
I force my feet to move across the carpet and sit next to her.
“Did you lie to protect me?” she eventually asks.
“Yes, and because I knew he needed time.”
She blows out a long breath and finally looks at me. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Did you want to protect me?”
Isn’t the answer obvious? “Because I love you, Heidi.”
She sniffles and nods. “So, not a club thing?”
“No.” It sounds cowardly, but I say it anyway. “It wasn’t my information to share, or I would have told you.”
She stares straight ahead, seeming to consider my words. “Wow, yeah. I think it would’ve been a lot weirder coming from you instead of him.”
The tightness in my chest eases. This can be repaired.
The corners of her mouth lift. “Is guilt why you bought me those expensive boots for my wedding?”
The question throws me. “What? No. I’ve watched you work so hard the last few years. I wanted you to have something nice to celebrate your accomplishments.”