CHAPTER 12
Graham
ELEVEN YEARS AGO…
I felt elated as I arrived at Jack’s house.
I was only a freshman in high school, but I’d made the football team. In fact, I was chosen to be the quarterback.
As long as I don’t get in trouble.
For me, that was a pretty difficult stipulation, but I was determined to keep my nose clean.
Most of the time, I wanted to do well in school. I had a talent for math, a skill I could thank Lauren and all her tutoring through the years for, but more often than not, I didn’t do my homework because I was on the field tossing a football.
Jack had made the team, too, but I didn’t know if he knew about it yet. He hadn’t hung around to get the roster. Lauren was at home alone, and he’d mentioned that he had to go take care of some problem.
“Graham?”
I stopped as I saw Lauren sitting in her swing as I cut across the backyard.
As usual, just seeing the adoration on her sweet little face made me feel ten-feet-tall.
I sat on the swing next to her. “Whatcha doing, Peanut?”
“I’m sad,” she said directly, her gaze diverted to the ground.
For Lauren, cutting to emotion without analysis was unusual.
“Why?” Dammit! I hated seeing Lauren upset. I could tell that she’d been crying, and her glasses were smeared. I plucked them off her face and cleaned them with my T-shirt.
“Milly died,” she said with a quiver in her voice.
I put her glasses back on her face, my heart aching as I realized why Jack had needed to go home.
“What happened?” I knew her little poodle was old. Actually, Milly had been older than Lauren was, and I was pretty sure she’d probably had more years on her than Jack. The bitch had been a rescue dog, and I don’t think anybody had ever figured out her exact age.
But Lauren had adored Milly, and I hated to see her lose an old friend.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed the large teddy bear on her lap, a gift I’d given her over three years ago. Max, the stuffed animal, had been well worth the money I’d had to save to give it to her for her birthday. He was somewhat dilapidated, but by the looks of the bear, she used it well and often when she was upset. She looked up at me, obviously in distress. “I don’t know. I came home, and she was dead.”
I balked at the idea of Lauren coming home to find the dog she adored dead in the house. But I wanted to be strong for her. This wasn’t about me.
“She was old, Peanut. It was probably her time.”
“But I wasn’t ready yet.”
I thought about all of the losses I’d had in my life. I’d never been prepared for any of them, nor had I totally understood why they happened. “I don’t think you ever would have been ready,” I observed.
She tilted her head like she was considering my words. “Do you think so? I’m going to miss her terribly.”
When I looked at Lauren, I saw an adult trapped in a sweet little girl. That shit couldn’t be easy. She was smarter than the large percentage of adults, yet she wasn’t mature enough to handle all of that brain power.
One minute she reminded me of a college professor, and then at next glance, I could only see a little girl who was hurting.
I stood up and knelt beside her, swiping at the tears on her face with my shirt. “You gave her a good life, Peanut. She knew that you loved her. And you rescued her from a crappy life at a shelter.”
A few of my previous foster homes had animals, but I’d never gotten close to them. I didn’t know what it was like to love a pet. Hell, I didn’t know how to love people, much less a dog.
She gave me a worried look. “But she died all alone. That shouldn’t have happened.”
I flinched and tried to hide the fact that her comment hit a nerve. “Sometimes we can’t control what happens.”
“I know. But I don’t have to like death.”
As far as I knew, nobody liked anybody or anything they loved dying on them. I know I sure as hell didn’t.
I shook my head. “Nope. You don’t. Take your time and miss Milly if you want. Think about all the good memories you have of her. Eventually, it won’t hurt so much.”
“Did you ever have anybody die?” she asked curiously.
I nodded, but my throat closed up because of the knot that was lodged smack in the middle of my vocal cords.
She continued, “So you hurt, too?”
I found my voice. “Not so much anymore,” I told her. “But when my parents died, it was pretty bad.”
Honestly, it had been so long that I couldn’t quite remember their faces, but I knew I’d been hurt and confused.
“I’m sorry they died,” she said earnestly.
I cracked a small smile. “Thanks.”
Lauren almost knocked me over as she threw her little body into my arms. “I love you, Graham. Please don’t ever leave me.”
I put my arms around her and hugged her tight, squashing Max between us. She was afraid of losing anybody else she cared about. Genius or not, she was still emotionally sensitive. Maybe more so than the average kid because she couldn’t quite justify being unhappy in her head.
Death sucked. I knew the fear of experiencing it again after my father died. And my worst nightmare had come true. I didn’t want that for the girl I adored. “I won’t leave you. I promise,” I vowed.
She wiped her wet face on my T-shirt, but I didn’t give a damn. Lauren was the only person on Earth who told me that she loved me, and I cherished every damn word.
“I swear it will be okay,” I said hoarsely. “Should we go get some blueberry muffins?” They were Lauren’s favorite, and I’d go buy some if there wasn’t a mix in the house.
She drew back and looked at me with a dubious expression. “You realize that I’m smart enough to know that sweets won’t solve any of my problems?”
I ruffled her hair. “But it won’t hurt.”
She appeared to be analyzing my words before she replied, “I suppose not.”
I rose to my feet and handed Max to her. “Let’s go, smarty-pants.”
She smiled up at me and took my hand. “I feel a little bit better.”
Some of the pressure on my chest lifted as I walked her into the house. I wanted to protect her from anything dark or ugly in her life, and sometimes I felt so damn helpless. What in the hell did a fourteen-year-old guy say to an eleven-year-old girl to cheer her up?
I knew very little about happiness. All I knew was survival.
It was probably all I’d ever understood.
I love you, too, Peanut.
Maybe if I could tell Lauren just once that I loved her like the sister I’d never had, it would make her feel better. She said it all the time, but I’d never once voiced my own emotions.
I’d thought about it, but saying the words was something I never did.
Maybe it was better that way.