Page 72 of The Design of Goodbye
“We’re not doing anything wrong, Dad,” I said in a rush, terrified he was mad. Or disappointed. Nowadays, I wasn’t sure which was worse. “Just sleeping.”
“Okay.”
“Did you say okay?” I’d been certain he was going to yell at me and make Liam sleep in the guest room.
“I trust Liam.” My face fell slightly against my will and he, of course, noticed. “Andyou.”
My heart warmed.
“Do you want me to make you and Liam breakfast in the morning?” he asked as he followed me into the laundry room.
I remembered Liam’s favorite food and his reaction to the CinnaMonster.
“Could you make cinnamon rolls?”
“Of course.” He was excited at my request. “They’re one of my specialties.”
“With extra frosting?”
“Always.” He gave me a quick side hug. “Night, Mads.”
When I got back to my room after starting the laundry and handwashing his jacket, Liam was already asleep. I tiptoed next to him and almost stepped on his glasses. I grabbed them, my fingers accidentally brushing his. The touch had been light, almost nonexistent, so I was surprised when he shot up, disoriented and mumbling, “I’m up. I’m up.”
“It’s me. I’m going to put your glasses on my nightstand. I almost stepped on them. Go back to sleep.”
He was already lying back down, eyes closing as soon as his head hit the pillow.
I turned off the lights and got in my bed. “You good?”
“Yes,” he said, voice faint and thready, “thank you.”
“Good night.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, his soft breathing filled the silence of my room, and I knew he’d fallen back asleep.
chapter twenty-six
Liam woke up late.
Still half asleep, he sat up, and Thimble slid off his chest, letting out an annoyed meow at the loss of his pillow.
“Morning,” I said.
“Morning.” His voice was thick with sleep, and he cleared his throat. Once he put on his glasses, he took in the disarray of fabric and thread on my floor. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing your jacket.” I scooted over to him and showed him the mended sleeve. “I doubt it’ll last all winter, though.”
He smiled gratefully as he took his jacket from me. “I’ll be careful. Thanks for fixing it.” He uncovered himself from the pile of blankets. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
“Noon?” It took him a second to process this. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Normally.” I got on my knees and swept my hand across the carpet to make sure I’d picked up all the needles. “But Bev and Taylor go to Mackinac Island every Thanksgiving to visit family. Invisible Thread’s been closed since Friday. They open back up after Thanksgiving break.”
“That’s good,” he said. “But you should’ve woken me up.”
“You needed the sleep.”
