“He’ll come around.” She held out a hand and smiled with the kind of intuition only a mother could have.
We cut through the house to the driveway, hauled the bags from the trunk over our shoulders, and trudged back up the walkway. She’d retired her apron but still looked every bit as hardworking. Her eyes held a mixture of compassion and bravery.
I had to smile. “Riley’s a lot like you.”
“Like his father too, I’m afraid—stubborn as a mule.”
We both laughed. Too bad we couldn’t stay on the porch, away from the electricity still brooding inside.
Mrs. Preston looked at me with the same intensity I’d grown accustomed to seeing from Riley. “He loves him, Emma. I know it’s hard to see that right now, but Jonathan loves his son. Always has.”
I lowered the duffle bag onto the ground. “I know. And so does Riley.”
We just had to find a way to make them remember.
Mrs. Preston led the way into the house and down the narrow hallway. She snapped on the light. “You can have Riley’s old room. He can sleep on the couch.”
We maneuvered through stacks of clutter. “It’s become a bit of a storage closet these days,” she said, “but you’ll at least have a bed. It’s only a twin.”
I reached for her arm. “It’s perfect.”
She nodded, laid my bag on the bed, and crossed the room again.
“Mrs. Preston?” I called before she left. “Thanks . . . for letting us stay.”
She smiled as if there’d never been a question.
Exhaustion closed in after only two seconds of sitting down. I hopped right back up. Any longer on the mattress, and I wouldn’t have been able to stay awake to wait for Riley. I ambled around the room toward a desk topped with an array of picture frames from his childhood. I lifted one up and laughed. The guitar he held was at least twice his size.
“Every guy’s worst fear,” Riley said from the doorway. “Bringing his fiancée home to see all his embarrassing baby pictures.”
“Well, luckily for you, your fiancée has much worse baby pictures. Trust me.” I returned the frame. “Though, I was expecting to find a few cute little league pictures mixed in here somewhere.”
He caressed the tops of my shoulders from behind. “When you grow up in a family of musicians, ambition to play sports kind of falls by the wayside.”
I turned to face him. His eyes had released any traces of his earlier anger.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. My dad doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me.” He craned his neck to the ceiling. “I don’t know why I thought it’d be different.”
“Because.” I curled the sides of his Henley in my fingers. “It’s your natural default to hope for the best.”
“You sound like my mom.”
“You must be rubbing off on me, then. You’re more like her than you realize.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good,” I answered. “It was intended to be.”
He edged closer. “So, does that mean you still want to marry me?”
It wasn’t fair that his smile still made my heart race.
“Now that you mention it,” I teased. “I might need a little more convincing.”
“Really?” He pressed in and kissed the corner of my mouth. “And what kind of convincing did you have in mind?” His lips hovered behind my ear.
I clasped his sleeve. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to involve a lot more of that.”
“More of what?” His lips glided down my neck until I laughed at how much it tickled.
When his eyes found mine again, he held my gaze with complete sincerity. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“Me too.” A sliver of the moon reflected off the water through the window. “Why didn’t you tell me you lived on such a beautiful property?”
He shrugged. “It belongs to my grandparents.” He walked over to the window and rested his forearms on the sill. “After we got kicked out of that dingy apartment in Nashville, we had nowhere to go. Gramps said they were ready to move into a condo. That this place had gotten too much to keep up with.” He scratched his cheek, laughed sadly. “More like he was trying to clean up his son’s mistakes.”
No wonder Riley was so cautious about his career in the music industry—so scared of repeating his father’s mistakes, terrified of putting that pursuit above his commitment to me. Nick couldn’t possibly have understood the history that played into Riley’s decisions. If he had, he wouldn’t have been counting on me to change his mind. What could I say to convince Riley his experience would turn out differently? That it was worth the risk?
“You’re not the same person.”
He didn’t move. “You honestly believe that after today?”
How could he ask that? “Of course I do.” I swallowed. “Which is why going on tour is the right decision—”
He turned. “Why are you fighting me on this?”
“I’m not. It’s just . . .”
“What?”
Head down, I rubbed the top of my sock with my other foot. “Nick called me last week. Basically threatened things would turn legal if I didn’t persuade you to uphold the contract.”
I risked a glance up from the oak floor. Riley’s nostrils flared.
I hurried to him. “I’m sorry. I only want what’s best for you.”
His chest rose and fell with a lengthy breath. “I know.” He kissed the crown of my head. “You’re what’s best for me, Em. Please trust me in that.”
He diverted his gaze to the bed. “It’s been a long day. You should get some sleep.”
“Thought you wanted to leave.”
He tugged on his ear. “Nick isn’t the only one who can be convincing.” A soft laugh petered into an exhale. He hung his head. “I owe it to Jazz to stay.”
Being here, feeling his heartache as my own, made the reason he’d left me last year seem so clear now it hurt. I closed him in my arms, wanting to take it all away and restore what he’d lost.
He rolled back the covers. Unwillingly, I traded the comfort of his warmth for the blankets’. He leaned down to kiss my forehead and let his lips linger over my skin longer than usual. “Goodnight, Emma.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closed behind him. My eyelids had no problem shutting out the day. My thoughts, on the other hand, weren’t so accommodating.
I wasn’t sure how his contract would affect our wedding date. But now that I’d met his family, I couldn’t imagine getting married without them there. They needed to be a part of it, a part of our lives. All of them.
I rolled onto my side, then onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. Sleep. You can do it.
Useless. I fumbled over the handful of items on the nightstand in search of my cell. The lighted screen cast a glow over the wall behind me.
“I was starting to wonder if you were going to call,” Austin said, skipping hellos.
“The phone does work both ways.”
“Funny, yours only seems to work in the middle of the night.”
I glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even midnight yet. And he called me dramatic. “Funny,” I said right back, “you’re always up when I call.”
His laugh echoed through the line. “Someone has to stay up to show these fools how to snowboard.”
“You’re snowboarding now? In the dark?” His girlfriend wasn’t giving him flack for that?
“If we only boarded in the day, it wouldn’t be called an extreme sport, now would it?”
I bunched the covers under my arms. “You better be careful.”
“You know me.”
That was the problem.
“So, you gonna tell me what’s up, or not?”
How did he always know? I ran my fingers along the stitching across the comforter. “I can’t sleep.”
“Your trip to the almost-in-laws isn’t turning into a Meet the Fockers scene, is it?”
I squeezed my pillow. He wa
s lucky he wasn’t here to get a good smack with it. “I’m trying to be serious.”
His laughter tapered. “Sorry. Switching over to Emma-mode now. Okay, go.”
If I weren’t so distracted, I might’ve been able to think of a comeback. I sighed into the phone instead. “Riley and his dad don’t get along. I mean, I knew that before coming, but it’s kind of painful to watch.” More than I’d expected.
I stared at his childhood pictures cloaked in moonlight. “We’re lucky. We got to share more love in the years we had with Dad than some people do in an entire lifetime. I’m scared they won’t see what they’re forfeiting until it’s too late.”
“If Riley upholds the character I’ve seen in him so far, he won’t let that happen.”
I wanted so much for him to be right, but the scene from dinner replayed in the shadows with the reminder that it was a two-man show.
Background conversations seeped in from his end of the line. He needed to get back to friends, but there was one more thing on my mind.
“Austin,” I said slowly, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” I rolled the top of the comforter down to my knees and let it unfurl. Why was this harder than I thought? “Since Dad can’t be here, would you walk me down the aisle . . . on my wedding day?”
I sank deeper into my pillows the longer his pause stretched.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said.
The beginning of tears coated my throat. No matter what else changed in my life, I’d always need my brother. “Aust . . .” My voice cracked.
“Love you too, Em. Now, get some sleep.”
“Night.”
The glimmer of light from my phone faded. In a house of fractured memories, I closed my eyes and tried to drift into a dream where everything in life was whole.
The splinter in Riley and his dad’s relationship widened the longer we were there. Even on Christmas Eve.
While Mr. Preston tinkered out in the garage, the rest of us hung out in the family room around an artificial tree decorated in mismatched ornaments. I rocked in a recliner, listening to Jasmine show off her saxophone skills. Melody kept her nose buried in a book and her headphones on, as usual. And Mrs. Preston wielded a cross-stitch needle while Riley filled her in on his upcoming album.
His cell vibrated on the end table. One glance at the screen, and he ignored the call. Same as he’d done five times over the last few days. It was probably Jess, or maybe Nick, hounding him about his contract. He couldn’t keep ignoring them.
I checked my own cell for any notifications. No new updates since Trey’d called yesterday to let me know he’d gotten rejection notices on some of my grant requests, but he managed to talk our landlord back into the original notice he’d promised us. With how easily Mr. Glyndon seemed to be swayed, I wasn’t inclined to hold my breath. And right now, Riley’s situation was all my heart could handle focusing on, anyway.
Mrs. Preston rubbed her bare feet on the dog. “And when will you go on tour, dear?”
It took all my willpower not to shout, “See, even your mom knows you should be on tour!” I drew my legs into the chair with me and tucked my ankles under them, straining to keep the words from spilling out.
A peanut soared across the room and nailed me in the cheek. Riley’s mischievous grin glowed from the launching pad. Apparently, he’d interpreted my expression. No words necessary.
My cell vibrated right as I dodged another incoming missile.
“Hello?” I covered my free ear with my hand to block out the music and conversations carrying on in the Preston’s family room. “Mom, wait. Slow down. I can’t understand you.”
I ducked into the hallway, away from the noise. “Okay, sorry. What were you saying?”
A tear-streaked breath shook her pause.
“Mom?”
“Emma, honey.” Another shaky inhale. “Austin’s been in an accident.”
chapter twelve
Perspective
I clenched the top of my hair. “Riley, you gotta drive faster.” With San Francisco being at least nine hours from his parents’ place, we had to make up time somehow.
“I don’t think getting a speeding ticket is going to help.” He steadied my antsy knee. “I’m going to get you there. Try to relax.”
“Relax?” Seriously? I dug my nails into the center console.
Why hadn’t Austin listened to me when I told him to be careful? We knew plenty of people who’d been injured in skiing accidents. Broken tailbones, arms, legs. One of our friends from high school even ended up paralyzed from the waist down. I boxed out the image of Austin in a wheelchair. “I can’t believe that’s all my mom told me.”
“I’m sure she told you everything she knew.”
Did he always have to be so patient and levelheaded?
I coiled the seatbelt around my finger. “I know. But if anything were to happen to him . . .” I couldn’t even go there. I squeezed my eyes shut. God, please let him be okay.
“Em, look at me.” Riley pried my hand from the seatbelt and wove his fingers through mine. “Everything’s going to be okay. Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”
Sleep? Wow, levelheaded and insane. How did that work?
A grin snuck up his cheeks as if he’d heard my thoughts.
“By the time we get to see him, you’re going to wish you would’ve slept while you had the chance.”
He was right. Of course. I buried my pillow under my arms, along with the comment I wanted to make, and focused on the pine trees passing along the highway. Sunbeams streaked through the branches and sprawled over my face.
“Here.” He shimmied off his sunglasses and passed them to me. “The sun won’t be down for another hour. These’ll help you sleep.” He lowered his visor, kissed my hand, and set it in his lap.
Patient, levelheaded, and sacrificial.
He squinted down the endless highway ahead of us, and I stared at every reminder of why I was marrying him until that single comfort lulled me to sleep.
His thumb smoothed over the back of my hand. The clock blinked into focus. 2:00 a.m. Between fits of in-and-out sleep, I’d changed a dozen positions, but he hadn’t let go.
“We’re almost there,” he said.
I checked my cell. No missed calls. Just a text from a number I didn’t recognize: At UCSF’s Medical Center.
The light pollution coming from downtown San Francisco led us the rest of the way. As soon as the wheels breached the parking spot, I unbuckled my seatbelt, felt for the automatic unlock lever, and dashed outside.
The hospital’s entrance opened down the middle and released an antiseptic-scented breeze from inside. I latched on to Riley’s arm as we approached the receptionist.
“I’m here to see my brother.”
A pepper-haired woman lifted a glance from her desk. Beside her, a red light lit up on a phone with at least twenty lines. She started to reach for it.
I stretched over the counter to stop her. “It’s urgent.”
The woman could’ve fit two of me in between her broad shoulders. Her glare alone nearly squeezed me in half. I prudently removed my arm from the ledge. She returned her attention to her computer screen. “Your brother’s name?”
“Austin. Austin Matthews.”
She drilled her nails over the keyboard. Each stroke jacked up my blood pressure until it hammered in my ears. The lights on her phone lit up again. She balanced the receiver between her ear and shoulder and continued typing. “UCSF’s Medical Center, how may I direct your call?”
Riley rested a calming hand against my back as I craned my neck to the ceiling.
Someone staggered toward us from the waiting area.
“Anna? What are you doing here?” My brother’s old college friend was the last person I’d expected to see.
She stretched with a yawn. “Your mom called me a few hours ago. Asked if I’d wait out here for you.”
I couldn’t help staring at her. Austin and Anna
used to be close in college. But ever since he started dating Hailey, Anna’d basically become a nostalgic memory.
“I don’t know why,” she said.
A woman toting a little boy on her hip flitted past us, pulling my gaze after them. “Why, what?”
“Why your mom called me instead of someone else. That’s what you were thinking, right?”
“How did you . . . ?”
She smiled. “You’re a lot like your brother. Your eyes speak your thoughts louder than most words.”
I stared at the tiles before my hot cheeks added any more thoughts to the conversation. “Sorry. It’s just that I know you and Austin have sort of lost touch.”
“I’m guessing my number was the first one your mom could find.”
If Mom was in that much of a rush, how bad did that make things?
The receptionist coughed away from the phone, drawing my attention again. “Yes, ma’am. Hold please.” She transferred the call, hung up, and made a few more clicks with her mouse. “Austin Matthews. He’s in room 234.”
That was all I needed. I launched off the counter and flew up the stairs. On the other side of some double doors, I almost knocked over a pair of nurses coming in the opposite direction. Riley and Anna apologized on my behalf on their way through.
The white sterile walls turned the long hallway into a perfect acoustic sound system for all the beeping monitors. Squares of speckled tiles blurred past my feet until I saw Mom standing in front of a window to one of the rooms.
“Mom, I got here as fast as I could.”
She held me tight. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call. The reception in here stinks.”
“Is he . . .?”
“He’s going to be fine, honey.” I followed her nod to the window. The last of the adrenaline holding me together tanked at the mere sight of my brother with monitors and tubes connected to his strong, infallible body.
She motioned to the room, and Riley tipped his head in a nudge.
I pushed the heavy door open wide enough to slip through without letting too much of the outside noise in. Austin’s heartbeats pulsed on the echogram. I treaded lightly and withered into the chair beside his bed. Between the strain from being at the Preston’s, the fatigue of being overtired, and the angst of worrying if Austin was okay, I just about lost it.
Hope Unbroken (Unveiled Series Book 3) Page 7