Page 59 of Pieces Into Place

“I love you, Janitor.”

“I love you too, Shrew.”

Chapter twenty-eight

Olivia

I nervously wring my hands together, feeling my palms sweat against the denim of my jeans for what feels like the twentieth time in as many minutes. Kane casts me a sideways glance before slowly taking one of my hands into his own, stroking circles onto the back of it with his thumb in an attempt to soothe my worries.

“Stop, Baby,” he says in a low, calming voice, sending a wave of warmth down my spine and briefly wiping away all my worries. He chuckles lightly. “I’ve never seen you so anxious.”

“This is a big deal,” I tell him, motioning with my free hand.

“It’s really not,” he offers calmly.

“I’ve never met anyone’s parents before, Kane!” I screech. “I never got the chance to do this when I was younger.”

Kane brings my hand up to his lips and kisses each knuckle softly. A smile spreads across his face. “I know, Livvy Love,” he says, using the nickname he’s recently started calling me. One that he knows reduces me to a puddle of goo every single time. He gently squeezes my hand and winks at me, silently reassuring me that everything will be alright.

As we pull up to his childhood home in the magical town of Sierra Falls, I inhale a deep breath while butterflies dance in my stomach and my pulse hammers in my neck. He turns the engine off and faces me. “I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

I bring my palms to my face and peek at Kane through the cracks of my fingers. His expression is neutral, but his eyes are open wide with emotion. “Except for the part where I’m meeting your parents. You know, considering someone in my family is responsible for your father’s death. What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to feel?”

Kane reaches out and takes both of my hands in his own, stopping me from hiding from him. “We’ve talked about this, Liv,”” he says softly. “You are no more responsible for what happened than anyone else involved. Everyone is a victim here, including you.”

I swallow hard and nod even though his words don’t quite make it into my heart, the heaviness of guilt still lingers there. Kane notices it too and pulls me close, enveloping me in an embrace.

He opens the door of his truck, steps out and grabs our bags from the backseat before closing the door behind him. He throws his duffle bag over his shoulder and grabs my suitcase with one hand, holding my hand in his other as we set off down the cobblestone path that is flanked by bright patches of lush green grass. Colorful flowers trim the yard, but my eyes are drawn to the candy apple red tulips that line the porch. Tulips have always been my favorite flower.

We reach the large oak door and Kane gestures for me to go first, his free hand pushing open the door with a loud creak. “We’re here!” he calls out as we step into the entryway.

The walls are adorned with a series of framed photographs; some capturing Kane and his younger siblings horsing around on the beach, others of his mother posing in front of famous monuments and landmarks, and one of the entire family hugging beneath a beaming sun. The love radiating from each image is unmistakable.

The afternoon sunlight spills through the windows facing west, bathing the living area in a warm orange glow; I feel an immediate sense of calm and comfort wash over me from within its walls.

We move past the living room, with its oversized couches, plush pillows and cozy throws spread out across them, into the large kitchen. It’s bright and open with gleaming chef’s appliances and a large marble counter, topped with a centerpiece of fresh red tulips standing tall in their glass vase like proud sentinels ready to greet us.

“Kane,” a deep masculine voice calls from behind us. I turn to see Kane’s father, Wyatt, enter the kitchen. He’s obviously taller than Kane, looking taller than his 6‘2 frame suggests, but not as muscular. His hair is lighter than Kane’s, almost a dirty blonde color and his short beard is peppered with gray. He looks incredibly distinguished with an air of poise about him – although not in the same way as Kane – which makes sense since they are not biologically related.

Kane steps forward and wraps his arms around his father in a tight embrace before Wyatt pulls back and plants a kiss on his cheek. There’s no lack of physical affection between them, and something about it warms my heart.

“Dad,” he says smiling proudly at me, “this is Olivia.”

I take a step closer, forming my nerves into some semblance of courage as I reach out to shake his hand. “Hello, Mr. Hudson,” I say with a shaky voice.

His smile is warm and inviting as he gently shakes my hand. “Please, call me Wyatt.”

I nod. “Thank you for having me,” I say. “Your home is lovely.”

“That’s all my wife,” he jokes.

Kane already has his head planted in the refrigerator and pops a grape into his mouth before asking, “Where is Mom?”

All of a sudden, she appears from the same direction as her husband. She’s petite, blonde and strikingly beautiful. I can immediately make out the resemblance to her son.

Kane strides over to her with a bright smile, wraps his big arms around her tiny frame, and lifts her up in a bear hug. She squeals and kisses his cheek before pulling away and staring at him for a moment – her eyes twinkling with joy. It’s as if she wants to etch this moment in time forever in her memory.

Then she turns to me. I’m trembling where I stand but I manage a smile as she approaches. Before I can offer my hand or greeting, she wraps her arms around me tightly. I’m only slightly taller than her, and I find myself resting my head slightly on her shoulder.