Текст книги "Falling "

Автор книги: E. K. Blair

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

There’s no doubt she’s nervous when she gets into my car and I start driving up to Shoreline to her parents’ house. She doesn’t speak as she sits there, looking all proper in her plum, knee-length dress and black high heels. She hardly ever wears jewelry or makeup, she doesn’t need to—she’s perfect. But I don’t like seeing her so worried.

“Relax,” I tell her.

“Ryan. You need to know that—”

“Candace, relax.”

“They’re just very judgmental people,” she warns.

“There is nothing that they can say that I haven’t heard before,” I tell her. If anyone can deal with people who degrade you, it’s me. I spent my whole childhood listening to a father telling me, every way he could, what a piece of shit I was. I’m sure I can handle whatever it is I’m about to walk into. But it isn’t me I’m worried about, it’s her.

When I pull into the gates of The Highlands, an upscale affluent community, I look over at Candace and lay my hand over the two of hers that are clenched tightly together. I weave through the neighborhood and when she points to the house, I pull into the drive and shut the car off. She doesn’t open the door or move in any way. She sits, and I let her take her time.

After a few moments pass, I ask, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she sighs and then opens the door.

Walking up to the large, two-story home that overlooks the Sound, she takes a deep breath before opening the front door. We walk in, and I take in my surroundings. I knew that she came from money—I do too—but there’s a big difference between affluent and wealthy. This is wealth.

“Bunny,” her father beams as he walks through the foyer with his arms out to pull her into a hug. From his demeanor, you would never expect the family drama that lies underneath the surface. My father was the same way. No one would ever suspect the violent man that he was behind closed doors.

He takes a step back from Candace and turns to me. He wears a tailored charcoal suit and has almost polished, silver hair. “And you must be Ryan. Thanks for joining us,” he says to me, shaking my hand.

“Good to meet you, sir.”

“Come in,” he says as he leads us back through the formal living room and into the kitchen. He turns to Candace, and tells her, “Your mother is finishing getting ready. She should be out shortly.”

She only smiles up at him.

“What can I get you two to drink?” he asks.

“A beer is good, Mr. Parker,” I say to him.

“Please, call me Charles.”

With drinks in hand we make our way back to their library that spans the two stories of the house with a large walk-in fireplace.

I sit next to Candace on the tucked leather couch as her father asks, “So, Ryan, what is it that you do?”

“I own a bar right off campus,” I tell him as Candace shifts nervously at my side.

“Oh, how did you get into that type of work?”

I briefly explain how I acquired the business after I graduated from UW, and he follows along, nodding his head.

“What did you study in college?” he asks before taking a sip of his scotch.

“Finance.”

“Now that’s a respectable degree,” I hear, and when I turn my head, I see a petite woman with shoulder-length, brown hair, wearing a dress similar to Candace’s, only in navy. But where Candace is more reserved, there isn’t a question about her mother’s social standing by the way she carries herself in a much too proud manner as she walks across the room, almost demanding attention.

Candace stands to give her mom a stiff hug.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Good to see you, darling,” she drawls before turning to me. “And Ryan, welcome.”

I step closer and take her hand, saying, “Thank you for having me.”

“Of course. It isn’t every day that our daughter brings a man home,” she says in a patronizing tone, and I look over to see Candace rolling her eyes as we sit down.

“Ryan was just telling me about the bar he owns,” her father announces.

“A bar?” she questions as if the words have a bad taste to them. She has no idea that the bar I own has afforded me an extremely comfortable lifestyle.

Before she can continue, Candace jumps in and changes the subject, asking about her parents’ upcoming trip to Aspen.

Candace and I sit back and listen to their plans before her father excuses himself and Candace takes me to show me around the house.

We walk outside to the backyard and look at the view of the Sound.

“I’m sorry about that,” Candace says softly as we take a seat on one of the benches.

“About what?”

She looks at me with apology. “They can be a lot. They’re pretty pretentious.”

“Candace, no one has perfect parents. Everyone’s flawed in some way.”

I slip my arm over her shoulders as she tightens the scarf around her neck.

“So, you grew up here in Shoreline?” I ask.

“Yeah. In this very house. The Kelleys, who live across the street, have a daughter that’s the same age as me. We used to be best friends when we were growing up.”

“And now?”

“And now all I really have is Jase, Mark . . . and you,” she tells me and knowing that she sees me as someone she can at least group with Jase and Mark gives me a little relief.

“What about your roommate?”

“Kimber? We used to be really close, but not so much anymore.”

“So what happened to all your friends from high school?” I ask, curious as to why she secludes herself in a manner that prevents her from having more people in her life.

“They’ve moved on. Applying to grad schools, getting married, making a life for themselves. Most of the kids here wind up becoming people like my parents. More concerned about their image and what social circle they’re in. It’s not me, so I never cared enough to stay in touch with anyone.”

I see how her parents could be upset that she doesn’t seem to follow suit with their expectations. That Candace would be driven enough to step out of that life to create a new one, a more comfortable one, for herself. She’s ambitious in a way that’s unique from her parents. Following a passion—dance—to build a life that she can find pleasure in.

“We should go back inside,” she tells me, and when we walk in, her father calls from the other room, “Candace, could you come in here?”

“Yeah, just a second.” She looks at me and says, “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” she assures before heading back to the library.

I take this time to stroll aimlessly through the house. Walking into the formal living room, I scan the framed photos that are displayed on the black grand piano. Family portraits through the years. Candace as a young girl, wearing a frilly white dress with white gloves, searching for Easter eggs on the greens of a golf course. A picture-perfect family, but from what little I have picked up from Jase, she was miserable. But out of all the photos, none of her dancing.

I’m curious to know what she would look like dancing. She’s so poised as it is, but to see how she would move intrigues me.

My attention shifts to the library when I hear Candace yelling. I don’t miss a beat when I start walking through the house to where she is, concerned about what they’re talking about and what has Candace raising her voice when she’s always so quiet. I can draw my own conclusions about what kind of relationship she has with her parents and wonder if they are the ones she needs to be protected from.

When I step to the closed double doors, I hear her father bark, “You have a name to uphold!”

“I just don’t understand you,” her mother snaps. “You should be thanking your father, not pouting,” and the sound of her condescending voice irks the hell out of me.

“You are unbelievable, Mother! I’m not a child!” Candace’s voice is strained as she yells, and I can’t bear the pain in her words. I barge in and see the annoyance on her mother’s face, so I lock my eyes on Candace, but she doesn’t notice as she continues shouting at her mom. “You can’t just step in and take away everything I have worked so hard for during these past four years! How can you call yourself a mother? You’re nothing! You say you’re embarrassed by me, well, it goes both ways.”

I rush across the room to her side, and when she finally stops to catch her breath, she sees me.

“We’re leaving. Now,” I demand as I take in her tear-stained face.

“Excuse me, but this is a private matter,” I hear her mother say, but I don’t take my eyes off of Candace as she continues to cry, staring at me in shock. I’m pissed, and she sees it.

Holding out my hand for her, her mother doesn’t stop when she threatens, “Candace, if you walk out, it’s over. Don’t come back. We refuse to sit back and watch you ruin your life.”

When her mother says this, anger roils inside of me, and I want to slap the fuck out of her lily-white ass for threatening her own daughter.

“Daddy?” Candace says as she looks to her father, pleading, and it hurts to hear her so desperate.

“We’re done letting you play games, bunny. No more.”

She stands there, tears falling from her eyes while she looks at her parents. All I want to do is take her away. Comfort her and get her out of here. And when she slides her hand in mine, that’s exactly what I do. I grip her tightly and get her out of this house as fast as I can. I snatch up our coats and walk her out to my car.

When I open the door for her, she reaches out to grip the side of the seat, and I know she’s about to break, so I grab her and pull her into me. Clutching my arms around her, I hear it. Painful sobs start to break through, and she clings to me, crying.

The tension in my body is heady with the urge to put her in the car and go inside to knock the shit out of her parents. I’m fueled by disgust for these people. That they would lash those words at Candace, leaving her broken in their driveway, falling apart in my arms. But at least they’re my arms that are attempting to comfort her, because even though she doesn’t know it, I don’t think anyone could give her what I want to give her. I’d give her the fuckin’ world if I could.

After a while, her body begins to shiver with chills as she starts to quiet down. She keeps her head tucked against me, and I feel her fingertips pressed into my back. Her breathing is staggered, and when she pulls back, she keeps her head down, not looking at me—embarrassed. I lean down and kiss the top of her head before helping her up into the car.

The drive back is somber. I look over to her as she stares out the window. She’s sad, and my need to comfort her is overwhelming. She must sense me watching her when she turns her head to me. Her chin quivers, and she shrugs her shoulders, defeated, as fresh tears fall down her cheeks. I reach over and take her hand, pulling it onto my lap. I keep it there all the way back to her house.

Once we’re inside, I go to the kitchen to get her a glass of wine, figuring she could use one. As I walk into the living room, she’s curled on the couch with her heels kicked off on the floor. I hand her the glass and she swallows it fast before handing it back to me. Setting it on the end table, I sit down, leaning into the corner of the couch and pull her between my legs and on top of me. She lies there and doesn’t move as I thread my fingers through her soft, thick hair.

“You okay?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer, she just shakes her head and after a second begins crying again, wetting my shirt as she nuzzles into my chest. I strengthen my arms around her and let her cry without saying anything.

The hurt coming out of her is hard to listen to, but I do, and it breaks me. Breaks me in a way that even though I hate it, I find myself savoring it. The connection. Her need for me right now and the contentment I find in being the one to give it to her.

Time passes and she’s fallen asleep on me. I can feel her steady breaths against me, and I’d hold on to her all night, just like this, if I knew she’d be okay with it. I want to be selfish and take it, but I know she wouldn’t be comfortable with it. So as much as I don’t want to feel her move off of me, I comb her hair with my fingers, and whisper, “Candace.”

“Hmm,” she softly hums as she stirs awake.

“It’s getting late. You should go sleep in your bed.”

Placing her hands on my chest, she pushes herself up, and I notice her bloodshot eyes.

“Are you gonna be okay if I leave?” I ask, hoping she’ll want me to stay, but knowing that it’s just a hope.

She nods her head and sits up. I move to stand and turn to take her hand, pulling her off of the couch and into a hug. She bands her arms around me, and I tell her, “We can stay here tomorrow. We don’t have to go to my mom’s.”

Leaning her head back to look up at me, she says, “It’s okay.”

“Candace . . .”

“I could use the distraction. I’ll be okay,” she tries assuring me.

“Call me when you wake up. You might feel differently in the morning.”

She walks me to the door and before I leave, she stops me, saying, “Ryan . . .” I look back at her, and she takes a pause before continuing, “I’m sorry . . . tonight just . . .”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly.”

“Thanks,” she says softly before I walk out.

Candace called me when she woke up this morning, assuring me that she still wanted to go to Oregon. I offered to stay here with her, but she told me that she really did want the distraction, so I didn’t question her any more about it.

I finish packing my bag, and I think about how things with the two of us have shifted in the past couple of weeks. I’m falling for this girl hard, and I know I’m not gonna be able to keep this from her for very much longer, but I’m nervous that I might ruin what we have. Honestly, even though it isn’t enough for me, I’ll take it if this is all she wants to give.

I carry my bag downstairs, and decide to call Jase. I don’t know if Candace has spoken with him this morning, but I call him anyway to let him know what happened last night.

“Hey, Ryan.”

“Jase, hey. You have a minute?” I ask as I start making myself a coffee for the road.

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Candace this morning?”

“No, why? Did something happen with her parents?” he asks, sounding worried.

“It wasn’t good, man.”

“Tell me.”

“Her parents are a piece of work. Pretentious dicks. I don’t know the whole argument ‘cause I was in the other room, but there was a lot of yelling, and when I went in there to get her, her parents threatened to cut her off. Told her they were done with her—threw her out.”

“Shit,” he sighs out. “How is she?”

“She didn’t talk, but I didn’t ask either. She was just really upset. I stayed with her for a while last night, but I wasn’t sure if she had called you, so I wanted to let you know,” I tell him as I screw the lid on to my travel mug and walk over to sit down on the couch.

“Thanks. I’ll try giving her a call. I hate that she’s stuck there.”

“She’s not. I’m about to go pick her up.”

“Where are you guys going?” he asks, and I’m surprised that he doesn’t already know.

“Has she not told you?”

“Told me what?” he questions.

“She’s coming home with me to my mom’s for a few days.”

“What?” Yeah, he had no clue by the shock in his tone. “I can’t believe she didn’t say anything to me.”

“Sorry. I figured you knew.”

“No.”

All of a sudden, I feel the need to talk to him about Candace. Knowing that the two of them are like family and that he’s really protective of her, I need to know if I should be pursuing her. As awkward as this is, I go ahead and lay it out there.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah . . .?” he responds.

“Look, I know the two of you are really close, so I feel like I should let you know that . . .” I pause briefly before admitting, “I really like her.”

“I figured as much,” he lets out with a chuckle under his breath. “Have you told her?”

I’m relieved that he’s being so relaxed about what I just said.

“No. I don’t know where her head is at. I’m not sure if she’d even be interested in anything.”

“I think she is,” he says, giving me hope, and then adds, “Look, I get that she’s closed off, but she wouldn’t be hanging out with you like she has been if she didn’t trust you.”

“She’s the hardest person I’ve ever had to read,” I admit with a laugh.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but you need to know that she’s been going through a lot this year. It’s been rough, and I’m just gonna leave it at that. So if you’re anything less than serious about her, then don’t go there.”

He tells me this, and I try not to wonder too much about what’s going on with her, though I’m beginning to think that there could be a lot more to her parents than what I’ve seen.

“I hear you,” I tell him.

“I’m serious. She isn’t like most girls. She’s really innocent, so don’t push her,” he warns.

“It’s not like that with her.”

“I don’t mean to sound like an ass or anything.”

“Jase, man. It’s fine. I get it,” I tell him, and a part of me is glad that he’s being this way about her, that she has someone like him there for her.

“Mark and I are hanging out with his family, so I’ve gotta run. I’ll try giving her a call though.”

“Okay. Thanks, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

Hearing him assure me that I’m not wasting my time soothes some of the anxiety I’ve been having about Candace. This girl has woven herself into my life, and for a change, I want to keep her there.

Candace was a little antsy when I picked her up this morning. We’re running later than what I told my mom because I didn’t want to rush her. She didn’t get much sleep last night, so she just wasn’t herself, worrying about how she looked and wondering if my family would think she was rude since she tends to be quiet. I’ve never seen her so uptight, so I let her move at her own pace.

She fell asleep about halfway into the drive, and as I look over at her, she’s still sound asleep, sitting there in her modest black dress. She looks beautiful as she sleeps, but it bothers me to think that at this moment, she’s probably happier in her dreams than she is when she’s awake.

When we start getting closer to the coast, I decide to go ahead and wake her up. Trying not to startle her, I run my knuckles up and down her arm until I see her eyes start to blink open.

“How long have I been asleep?” she murmurs.

“A couple of hours.”

“Really?”

I smile over at her. “Really.”

She adjusts the seat and sits up to look out the window. The canopy of trees that hide the sky on the winding road through the mountains makes it dark.

“How much longer do we have to go?” she asks.

“About twenty minutes. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. I was really tired.”

“Music?” I ask and when she agrees, I tell her, “You pick.”

She takes my cell phone since she likes all my music and syncs it up with the stereo, selecting ‘Ride’ by Lana Del Rey. She sets my phone down and sits back as the music fills the car, and I enjoy the doleful, limpid melody of the song.

“You’re quiet over there,” I say after a while.

“Just a little nervous,” she tells me as she continues to watch the mist collecting on the window.

I give her knee a squeeze and say, “Don’t be.”

Seeing the unconvincing grin on her face, I decide to just let her be for the rest of the drive. When we arrive, I park the car and walk around to open her door. She’s not quick to get out, so I take her hands to help her down, encouraging, “Don’t be so nervous. Just relax.”

I laugh under my breath as I watch her fidgeting with the skirt of her dress, smoothing it down.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because I’ve never seen you so wound up before.”

I take her hand and start walking her to the front door, but when she tugs back and stops, I turn to hear her say, “Ryan . . . I don’t do well around a lot of people.”

I try to coax her with my words, telling her, “My family will love you, but if you feel that uncomfortable, we can go. Just say the word.”

“No, I want to meet them, I’m just . . .”

“Hey, I’m right here. No worries, okay?”

“Okay.”

Holding her hand, I lead her inside as two of my nephews run through the entryway, chasing each other. I laugh and walk her back to the kitchen.

“Finally, you made it,” my mom says excitedly and rushes over to hug me, but I keep my grip on Candace.

“Mom, this is Candace,” I introduce, and my mom pulls her in for a hug as well.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you, dear,” my mom tells her, and she’s not even trying to hide that she’s thrilled with the fact that I brought a girl home and she isn’t some barfly.

My Aunt Carol brings me in for a hug, excited to see me, and before I know it, the kids all start flooding into the kitchen, screaming my name. I spot Sophie, one of my nieces, and pick her up as Tori and my other cousins’ husbands come in to say hi. Tori and my other cousin, Jenna, give me curious looks, and I try to ignore them, knowing they are just waiting to start digging into my business about Candace. I told my mom to discreetly tell my cousins to keep a tight lip so they don’t embarrass Candace, but I know Jenna and Katie, and those chicks are nosey.

When Sophie starts poking her finger in my ear, I catch Bailey, toddling over to me. Bending down, I scoop her up in my other arm, ravishing her neck with playful kisses as she squeals and giggles.

“You weren’t kidding,” Tori whispers to me as my cousin, Jenna, comes over to take Sophie out of my arms.

“What?” I question, trying to keep my voice under my breath.

She laughs, “She’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks,” I say with mockery.

“You know I’m teasing. She’s just . . . polished.”

“Tell the girls not to interrogate her.”

“Donna already said something, but you know how Katie is.”

“Where is she by the way?” I ask.

“Upstairs with Maddie. She had an upset stomach earlier.”

“My room?”

“Yeah.”

“Why is my room always the hot spot for everyone’s spawn when they get sick?” I joke and then turn to look at Candace, but she’s no longer in the kitchen, and I quickly realize, that in the madness of saying hi, I left her alone.

“Mom, where’s Candace?” I ask.

‘Ladies’ room,’ she mouths to me, and I walk down the hall to wait for her, feeling bad, and wondering if all that was too much for her. Who am I kidding? Of course it was. My family is big and loud, and Candace doesn’t even like being in a crowded coffee shop.

When she doesn’t come out after a few minutes, I gently knock on the door.

“Everything okay?” I ask as she opens the door. “When I looked up you were gone.”

“Yeah, just needed a moment to myself.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I’m just not used to . . .”

“I know.” I see that she’s a bit rattled, so I step closer to her and run my hands down her arms. “Do you need a few more minutes?”

“No, I’m fine.”

When we walk back into the kitchen, the kids are watching their movie, and the chaos has dissipated. I pour her a glass of wine, and hand it to her, whispering, “Come on,” in her ear. I lead her through the house, showing her around as I take her to one of the back rooms that looks out over the water.

We’re alone, and it’s quiet as we stand in front of the large picture window.

“Better?” I ask, and she smiles as she looks at me.

“I guess I didn’t realize how big your family actually is. I mean, you’ve told me, but . . .”

“It can be a lot,” I tell her. Having twenty of us here can be overwhelming. It’s more the women and kids. The guys are always laying low, trying to dodge the madness.

“This is a great view,” she says. “Have you always lived here?”

“Yeah.”

“Small town.”

“You have no idea,” I say with a hint of humor. “I used to spend most of my time in Seaside or Astoria. That’s where Tori’s from.”

“Is there even a school here?” she asks with a huge smile, finding it funny. Not a whole lot of people are permanent residents of this area. It’s mostly vacation rentals, but we’re one of the few that actually call it home.

“No,” I tell her. “The schools are in Seaside, but I went to private school.”

“Me too.”

We chat for a few more minutes, and when she seems more at ease, we head back. Tori and Jenna are sitting in the dining room when we pass through.

“Candace, come join us,” Tori offers, and when Candace hesitates, I tell her it’s fine, letting her know that I’ll be in the other room with my mom. I know Tori is curious about her, and I also trust her enough to know Candace will be fine.

I find my mom in the kitchen, working on dinner. It’s just the two of us, and she stops what she’s doing as we lean against the counter and talk.

“How did this morning go with the kids?” I ask, a little bummed that I wasn’t here.

“Anarchic,” she laughs.

“I bet.”

“They missed you.”

“I have all their presents outside,” I tell her. “We can open them later.”

She takes a sip from her glass of water, and then asks, “Where’s Candace?”

“Dining room with Tor and Jenna.”

She nods her head with a smile, and I know she’s biting her tongue, so I tell her, “Just say it.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is that has you looking at me like that, Mom.”

When she sets her glass down on the counter, she reveals, “She’s different than I was expecting.”

“How so?”

“Just . . . different.” When I narrow my eyes at her, she grins and assures, “It’s a good thing, dear. Relax,” before patting my arm a couple of times and walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“Dining room to visit with the girls.”

I let her have her time with Candace, even though I feel like I want to go in there and check on her. But I don’t. Instead I busy myself with Connor, helping him out with a puzzle on the floor. When I look up, I see my mom and Candace passing through the kitchen. She catches my eye, and I give her a small half grin as they walk through, heading to the study. I like seeing her here, with my mom, in my familiar surroundings, mixed in with my family.

Candace is now in the kitchen, helping Mom cook while I drink a beer and hang out with the guys. I can’t keep my eyes off of her as I watch her laughing with my mom while they get everything ready for dinner, and I know instantly that I want to see this again. Have her here again.

She makes me nervous because she has this power about her that is dragging emotions out of me when no one in the past has been able to. She has no clue what she’s doing to me, and that’s a scary thing when I think about admitting how I’m feeling about her.

After a while, I unload the gifts and let the kids open everything. My mom was right—they’re much crazier than they were last year, but they’re another year older, and I’m sure next year will be even wilder. Candace sits on the couch with Tori while they laugh at me being overtaken by the little ones.

When dinner is done, Candace excuses herself to go upstairs to relieve Katie from mommy duties. Her daughter, Maddie, hasn’t been feeling well all day, and Candace told me that she needed some quiet time, so she’s up in my room with Maddie, and Katie is finally getting to eat dinner.

My aunts are cleaning up, Jenna and the guys are getting all the kids ready for bed, and Tori and I band off into the study to talk.

“I got a job,” she tells me as we sit down.

“What made you decide to go back to work?”

“After you and I talked this summer, I decided to just be honest with Trevor. Told him pretty much what I told you,” she says. “He suggested the same thing. Thought I should get out of the house, get back into a routine. So I called my old boss, and it was as easy as that.”

“When do you start?” I ask.

“Second week in January,” she says with a little uncertainty.

“You ready to leave Connor and Bailey?”

“Yes and no.” Tori is a great mom and is very attached to her kids, so it makes sense that this transition would be hard for her since she’s been a stay-at-home mom for the past four years.

“It’ll be fine,” I say. “So you and Trevor are on the same page?”

“He never got off track. It was me. I think I’ve been miserable because I’ve been lost. I wasn’t doing anything about it, and it made me start questioning everything. But he’s supportive. Always has been. He just had no clue how I was feeling. Once I was honest with him, things started to change. So yeah, we’re good.”

“Good.”

“What about you?” she questions.

“What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding what she’s asking.

“Being honest,” she starts, “Candace told me that she thinks you brought her here because you feel sorry for her.”

“She said that?” I feel horrible that she would even think that.

Tori nods her head and then questions, “How long do you plan on avoiding telling her how you feel?”

Letting out a deep breath, I tell her, “She makes me nervous.” When Tori smiles, I say, “I’m glad you’re enjoying my discomfort.”

“I’m just enjoying seeing a girl have this effect on you,” she admits before she stands up. “I’m heading to bed, but for what it’s worth, I really like her.”

I follow her out, and the house is quiet. I see my mom in the kitchen, turning everything off.

“You going to bed?” I ask her.

“Yes. It’s getting late. Is Candace still upstairs?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go up there and get her. I think we’ll just crash down here and let Maddie take my bed.”

“Well, tell her that I’ll see her in the morning, will you?”

“Okay, Mom.”

We say good night, and I go to the hall closet to pull out some blankets and pillows. I toss everything on the floor, making a makeshift bed for me to sleep on and lay out a blanket and pillow on the couch for Candace. We had planned on her taking my room, but since Maddie is sick, I figure this is a fair alternative.

I pick up Candace’s bag and head upstairs to my room. Quietly, I open the door to see Maddie passed out, lying on top of Candace. When she rolls her head to the side and looks at me, I walk in and laugh. “Are you stuck under Maddie?”

“I didn’t want to move and wake her up. What time is it?” she asks.

“Past eleven. Everyone has gone to bed. I told Katie that I would check on you and Maddie.”

“I wanted to thank your mother before she went to bed.”

“Don’t worry about it. Here’s your bag,” I tell her as I set it next to the bed. “I made a big pallet of blankets and pillows downstairs in the living room. Since Maddie is in my room, we’re just going to sleep down there. We can watch a movie or something if you want.”

“Oh . . . umm . . .” she stutters, and I know she’s uncomfortable with the change in plans.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take the floor, and you can have the couch.” I walk over to my dresser to pull out a pair of pajama pants for myself and let her know, “I’ll be downstairs. You can use my bathroom to change,” before walking out and heading back down.