Page 62 of Lucky Strike

“Did you brush her?” I follow him into the living room, grateful for the chance to gather my thoughts. “After washing her? Where’s the brush?”

“I think it’s on the deck,” Bria says. “I saw it out there when we were rinsing them off.”

After dinner,Liam falls asleep in my bed while we’re watching a movie. “You stay here,” I whisper to Shelby, who barely cracks a sleepy eye as I ease out of the room. Bacon’s nowhere to be seen, which probably means he’s with Bria. She sneaks him treats, so he’s in love with her.

Bria’s soft voice drifts from her room, punctuated by laughter. She’son the phone. I pause outside her door, bewildered by my restlessness. It’s like I’m thawing, feeling things I haven’t felt in a long time.

First, I thought I could keep Bria safe by cutting off all contact with her. And then I compromised, telling myself I could keep her safe by ignoring her … even though she was living in my house. Now she knows who I am and what I do, and the walls I erected to keep her out—to keep hersafe—are down. She’s too close, but all I want is for her to be closer. Guess the history we have isn’t so ancient, after all.

I’m probably romanticizing the past, but I keep thinking about what we had when we were younger. The physical side of it, but also being able to share my true feelings, the stuff I was worried about, the dreams I had. I couldn’t tell her about Saoirse, but I told her damn near everything else. She knew me like few people did, and she never judged me. It seems the same is true now. Maeve must have sensed this about her. She knew we could trust Bria.

Downstairs, I pour myself a glass of peppermint iced tea and go out onto the deck. It’s times like this I wish I hadn’t quit smoking. When I first bought this house, I loved sitting out here and decompressing with a cigarette and a beer. Good thing Tristan’s not around. He’d make it harder for sure.

A cool, night breeze ruffles my hair, summer with a tang of salt. I sink into a chair, feet propped on the railing, listening to the waves crash. It takes my eyes a minute to adjust. The sky’s endlessly dark out here, electrified by stars so bright they’re unreal. It’s nice not having anywhere to be for once, and I lose myself in the inky expanse, tracing all the constellations I can see. Some stars shine with a cool, silvery brilliance, while others emit a warmer, golden glow.

The doors open and Bria steps out, her phone clutched in her hand. She walks past me with Bacon—I knew it—and stands at the railing for a long time as she looks out at the ocean. She’s wearing the same shorts and long-sleeved crew neck she had on at dinner, so loose it keeps slipping off her shoulder. After a long moment she turns, and I can feel her gaze settling on me. There’s a moment of hesitation, the air between us thick with unspoken words.

“I was talking to my sister,” she says, holding up the phone. “She’s in Sedona at a retreat.”

“What kind of retreat?”

“Yoga, crystals. I guess Sedona’s known for its positive energy? She went with a bunch of teacher friends.”

“Interesting.”

Shrugging, she pushes away from the railing and sits in the chair beside mine. “Taya’s been traveling a lot lately, making up for lost time.”

“What d’you mean?”

“She couldn’t really leave before because of Grammy.”

Grammy, her maternal grandmother. I vaguely remember Bria telling me about her, years ago. “Is she okay? Grammy?”

“She has dementia,” Bria says quietly. “Ma and Taya dealt with it for as long as they could, but we have her in a care facility now.”

My heart falls. I’m a real shit, so wrapped up in my own problems that it never occurs to me to ask about hers. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Bria stretches, resting her hands on her belly as she gazes up at the sky.

“You and Liam do any stargazing yet?” I ask after a while.

“On our second night,” she says, a smile in her voice. “We’ve been meaning to do it again, but most nights he’s so worn out he falls asleep early.”

“Thank you,” I say after a beat.

She looks over. “For what?”

“For everything. Liam’s a lucky kid.”

“I’m the lucky one,” she says with a soft laugh. “He makes it easy.”

“I missed you, Bria.” I look over as she stills, her face unreadable. “You know that, right?”

She shakes her head, looking away. “You’re unpredictable these days. It can be confusing.”

“And you’re still as honest as ever.”

“You used to be pretty honest, too. At least, I thought you were. Guess you had secrets back then.” She tucks her legs in and wraps her arms around them.

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