Page 6 of Fight For Me

We’re quiet for a long moment, sitting there watching the light rain. “You asked for a memory.”

“Only if you want to tell me.”

“I keep thinking about cinnamon rolls.”

“Cinnamon rolls?”

“My grandmother made the best cinnamon rolls. About once a week, for breakfast or an afternoon snack. I used to beg to help her but really I was just fascinated watching her. The way her hands moved in the dough.” I close my eyes, seeing her hands so clearly in my mind, covered in flour. “My grandpa always made the biggest deal out of them when he’d come in and smell the cinnamon. And even though they’d been married all those years, her cheeks would turn pink when he’d go on and on. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to smell cinnamon without thinking of the way they looked at each other.”

“They were really in love.”

“They were,” I say, pain radiating out from my chest. I wonder if it will ever not hurt to refer to them in the past tense. “They really were.”

“I’m so sorry, Wyatt,” Alex says, her husky voice clear and close to my ear, so close I can feel her warm breath dance over my neck. “I’m so sorry they’re gone.”

I’ve heard that so many times over the last few days. I never doubted the sincerity of the people who came up to me to pay their respects—I’m sure they really are sorry. Even so, Alex’s words hit me different, harder. There’s so much emotion in her voice—like she alone really understands how I’m feeling.

Don’t be such an idiot,I tell myself.You barely know each other.

“I’m sorry they’re gone, too,” I say simply and she squeezes my hand.

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against the top of the bench, exhaustion settling over me. I’ve been fighting this feeling for days as we made all the preparations and went through the various gatherings of mourners. For some reason, it feels easier to let up on that fight for just a few minutes, sitting here with her.

Alex doesn’t say anything else. She just sits on the bench next to me, my hand in hers, and lets me breathe.

Wyatt

“Iwant you to come back to the house with us tonight,” my mom says as the wake finally winds down. There’s mostly family left, my aunts and uncles and a few cousins. Most of the younger kids went back to the hotel a while ago.

“I’m not sure,” I hedge, even though I have no intention of going back to their place in Seattle.

“I don’t want you alone in your apartment,” she says, her voice a little shaky.You’re worrying her,I tell myself.Stop being a dick.

I’ve actually been thinking I might stay at my grandparents’ house in Huntington tonight. It feels right, somehow. Like it’s my last chance to feel close to them. But I don’t tell my mom that. If she’s worried about me staying by myself in my own apartment, she’ll be even more concerned at the idea of me staying at the old house alone.

“Will you let your brother stay with you?” she asks. “I really don’t want you to be on your own.”

“I’ve been surrounded by people all day, Mom. Alone doesn’t sound so bad.”

“But we’re notpeople, Wyatt. We’re your family.”

Across the room, Will is sitting on one of the couches, our little sister CeCe snuggled up next to him while he talks to his fiancée, Eva, and our cousins Rose and River. I watch while CeCe’s eyelids grow heavy until she nods off, her head lulling over on his shoulder. Seeing them sitting there like that sends an aching throb to pulse low in my chest and I’m not sure why.

They’re my siblings, for fuck’s sake. Why does looking at them make me feel…left out?

“Did you convince him to come home with us yet?” My dad joins us, sliding an arm around Mom’s waist.

“Your house is thirty minutes away,” I point out. “I’m exhausted.”

Dad frowns. “I wasn’t talking about the Seattle house. I meant home to LA.”

Ah. So we’re going to do this again already. “Dad.”

He holds up a hand. “I get why you put off the surgery and didn’t come home a few months ago. And I’m glad you trusted that instinct—you were in the right place, here with Alice.” His familiar dark blue eyes search mine. “But now the right place is with us. You shouldn’t be alone, kid.”

“Where am I supposed to stay? My apartment is here.”

Something like excitement flashes in his eyes. “You still have a room at the house.”