Page 90 of Protecting the Nerd

We spent time with my friends, and yes, they were my friends now. It had taken me a while to accept that, but in this, too, Quillon had been right. While they might initially have invited me out of a sense of guilt, we had forged bonds of friendship, and I was so grateful.

Marnin and I played chess regularly. I had taught him, and he’d proven to be a quick study. The student wasn’t surpassing the master anytime soon, but he was becoming a worthy opponent, much like Gabe. The teen had managed to beat me fair and square for the first time a month ago, and we’d celebrated that momentous occasion. He hadn’t managed since, but that was okay.

Fir and I had grown even closer, and he’d convinced me I needed therapy. I had fought the idea but capitulated in the end. As a doctor, Fir knew what he was talking about. I had weekly sessions with Clarissa, and it made a difference. Fir had been right that it would do me good. At first, I’d cried almost every session, but slowly but surely, the pain had subsided, and now I had truly let go of my brother.

Quillon and I had looked into becoming foster parents. We’d have to get married—which wasn’t a hardship because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this amazing man anyway—and we’d have to take the necessary courses, but we both felt this was something we wanted to do. We’d agreed to revisit six months from now, giving ourselves a little more time to grow closer in our relationship before taking on such a big challenge.

“York?” Quillon called out, knocking on my door. “Can I disturb you for a moment?”

Always so respectful of my need for uninterrupted work. “Of course.”

I spun around in my chair to face the door. He came in, and one look at his expression and my smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”

He closed the door behind him. “Your parents are here, nerdy.”

“My parents?”

“Yeah.”

My mouth ran dry as I got up. “Why?”

“They asked to talk to you.”

“I don’t know if I…”

He held his arms open, and I stepped into his embrace. “You don’t have to talk to them, but you may want to consider. Something about them is different.”

“Different?”

“I can’t put my finger on it, but they seem…contrite.”

Had hell frozen over? “That’s hard to believe.”

“I know, and maybe I’m wrong, but either way, you won’t know unless you face them. I’ll be right next to you the whole time, nerdy, and I won’t allow them to hurt you again.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath. Quillon was right. I needed to face them, or I would never get that closure I was hoping for so desperately. “Okay.”

They were still at the front door, my father leaning heavily on his walking stick. Their faces were as white as the January snow on the lawn, and holy shit, they looked like they had aged a decade in the few months since I’d seen them. “Do you want to come in?” I asked.

“It would be better for your father,” my mother said quietly. “Thank you.”

We settled in the living room, and Quillon poured them some water, which they both drank eagerly.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

My parents looked at each other, and then my mother spoke. “We sold The Lodge.”

My eyes widened. “For real?”

“The new buyers just received the keys. Your father and I are moving into the senior living building on Watts Street. His health is deteriorating fast, and he needs assistance I can’t offer anymore, so this seemed like the best option.”

I was at a loss for words. They’d talked about selling it for a long time, and now it was finally happening. “What will happen to Essex’s room?”

My mother hunched. “We dismantled it weeks ago.”

“You did?”

“We should’ve done so twenty years ago,” my father said. “I don’t know why we couldn’t let go of him, but we couldn’t.”

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