Page 57 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

“I can help.” We all gawk at him like he’s nuts. “I mean, if Liv needs a second set of hands or some back-up…I can move my schedule around any time,” James says sheepishly.

Why is Olivia bright red? What the fuck is that all about?

Before Greyson blows his lid—because even I’ve noticed how James can’t follow Greyson’s one rule to stay away from Olivia—my angel pops her head out the front door to tell us dinner’s ready.

“Dinner was incredible, thank you Mrs. Andersen,” I say as Delilah and I head out for the night. We’re the last to leave—Quincy took our parents home in the middle of dinner when my dad got confused and overwhelmed. The sorrow on my mom’s face broke my heart.

“Don’t thank me, this young lady did most of the cooking,” Mrs. Andersen says, causing Delilah to lightly blush.

“Well either way, Sunday dinner’s always a highlight of my week,” I say truthfully. I love my family, but it’s been years since I’ve relaxed and enjoyed time with them.

I sweep Delilah’s hair off her bare shoulder—my finger snagging on the thin strap of her tank top and grip her by the back of her neck.

She stiffens under my palm. I’ve always touched her like this, so it’s nothing scandalous, but she’s clearly on edge.

Mrs. Andersen doesn’t miss a thing, her eagle vision taking in our every movement. Her eyes twinkle and she purses her lips, holding back a smile and winks at me. “G’night you two.”

As soon as we get home, Delilah curls into my side, exactly where she belongs, and we turn on an episode of one of her trash reality shows.

I’ve never minded giving up control of the remote because it’s always meant time with my girl in my arms, relaxed and content.

“Can I have my phone?” she asks.

I’ve always carried her shit. She hardly ever carries a purse and always wears clothes without decent pockets. I take our phones from my pocket and hand hers over.

We indulge in mindless scrolling while her show rolls into another episode.

“No! No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening!” Delilah cries, sitting up rapidly, a death grip on her phone.

“What’s going on?”

“I haven’t checked my e-mail all day. My advisor says my internship sponsor had to pull out at the last minute.” Heartbreak floods her eyes.

“They can’t do that, can they? You signed an agreement.”

“They can. Either side can terminate the internship at any time. They’re giving their time voluntarily without compensation. This hardly ever happens…why me?” Her hands cover her face, blocking me from seeing her tears.

“Shh, shh, shh, doll. Deep breath. We’ll figure something out. Everything happens for a reason. Something better is on the horizon,” I soothe.

I get her into bed, and she falls into a fitful sleep, nestled against me. I’ve been stroking her hair for so long my hand’s numb, but I don’t care. I’d do anything for her.

Checking the time, I know my message won’t be seen until morning, so I shoot it off before I second guess myself.

Me: Need to talk to you about something tomorrow morning away from the twins.

Reid: ☾ Reid has notifications silenced. Notify anyway?

I plug my phone in and settle against my sleeping doll. I’ll fix this for you, baby.

“How’s she doing?” Delilah asks.

“Not good. I didn’t want to leave, but she kicked me out. Said she wanted to be alone.”

Today would’ve been Quincy and Sam’s fourth wedding anniversary. I can’t fathom the grief she’s suffering on the day meant to celebrate her marriage. I tried to keep her company, but she was stone-faced and insisted she didn’t need to be babysat.

“Poor thing. She’s got to be hurting. I wanted to send her flowers, but I didn’t know how to appropriately recognize a widow’s grief,” Delilah says.

“I don’t think any of us do.” I flop back onto the couch with a heavy sigh. We sit together in the quiet, taking comfort in each other’s company.