The Effects of Falling (The Weight of Rain Duet Book 2) (10 page)

“
I
CAN’T BELIEVE
you went to Universal Studios,” Kash says over the speakerphone.

I’m trying to apply mascara, and for some unfounded reason that must be scientific, I can’t do this without having my mouth hanging open, which makes holding the phone to my shoulder impossible.

“What do you mean, you can’t believe it? And why are you awake again?” Annoyance clips my words as I screw the wand back into place before closing my small makeup bag.

He has the audacity to laugh, making my glare intensify. I wish he had called me with FaceTime, because my look is far more than cutting; it’s slashing.

“Fuck off, Knight. I’m perfectly capable of taking an eleven-year-old to an amusement park, even one filled with castles and people that dress up like they’re a part of the movie. Seriously, it was a hundred degrees, and people were wearing scarves. It was ridiculous.”

Truth be told, it was a blast. I never expected to enjoy going to a make-believe world based on books I have no interest in. Mercedes was happy to chirp away about each of the books and characters, and when Lo’s coffee kicked in enough for her to pay attention to our conversation, she looked at me with horror in her eyes and asked how I had never seen a single Harry Potter film. The two took turns throwing out ridiculous names and stories that didn’t make a single bit of difference to me until we stepped inside, and suddenly, I was listening more closely and felt nearly as excited as they were.

“The smiling. The music. The lines. The humidity…” Kash goads.

There was that, but it was easy to get past with the rides, Butterbeer, and smiles wider than I’d ever seen covering Mercedes’ face all day.

“Sounds like what most people picture when I tell them my name’s Summer. I fit in perfectly.”

“But we both know your name really should be Autumn.”

“’Cause I’m a dark and sinister bitch?”

“You just have that bite. Everything else about you is warm and comforting. Sweatshirts, campfires, home movies, pumpkin cheesecakes, finding every crisp leaf with your tire—all of my favorite things about fall, that’s what you are, but Fall would be a ridiculous name.”

“Kind of like
Kash
?”

“Low blow!” he feigns insult by barking the accusation. “Are you laughing?” he demands.

“At you? Never.” I am.

“I’m glad Robert’s okay, and I’m really glad you’re finally coming home. God, you’ve only been gone for three days, and it’s felt like the longest three days of my life. This week has taken forever!”

“It will be better. Since you guys had such an early flight, you should take a nap and rest. We’ll be home before you know it. And, I might even have a witch’s hat for you.”

“What? Not a broomstick or a wand? Don’t tell me you cheaped out.”

“Just stay away from my truck. I will know if you drive her.”

“I thought we were talking about what you got me?”

“You’re detailing her, Kash!”

“You act like I’m a wet dog and I’m going to make the cab stink. I only took it to grab some groceries.”

“You do smell like wet dog, but we’ll have to discuss it later ’cause I have a plane to catch.”

“Yes, you do! I’ll see you tonight!”

I
T IS JUST
after four when we make our way off the plane, our eyes all focused on Robert though he has continually been glaring at us for doing so. It seems like he should have something more than a small bandage to mark the occurrence of the past few days, yet he doesn’t.

“Flying west is so much better than going east,” he remarks as we make our way through the airport, Lo and Mercedes commiserating the loss of the teal carpet that was nearly as iconic to Portland as the rain. “You can leave at a reasonable time and still make it home before dark.”

It’s barely light out with November nearing an end, but he’s right; it’s something I enjoy as well.

“Dad!” Mercedes’ cry has all of us turning to see King and Kash making their way toward us.

No one knows who Kash is here, yet as always, he’s drawing attention simply from the confidence in his gait, the wide friendly smile that makes you want to learn all its secrets, and his broad, flannel-covered shoulders that look impossibly safe.

Mercedes bounds over to him, her arms encircling his neck and holding him tight. Kash’s arms are crossed behind her back, his hands clutching her with relief. Slowly, he looks up, and his eyes land on mine. I recognize the smile forming though his lips are buried in Mercedes’ hair. It causes my grin to grow with every step he takes closer to me. Kash sets Mercedes down, and with a rush of his scent and warmth, I’m pressed tightly to his chest. The wool shirt is rough and scratchy against my cheek as I feel the pressure of each of his fingers curling around my shoulder and side. Without warning, they both become obsolete as the softness of his freshly shaven chin slides across my forehead where he presses a lingering kiss. Keeping an arm around my shoulder, his hand still firmly grasping my shoulder, he reaches forward and pulls Robert in for a hug. It isn’t a meek hug, one that many guys do so there’s very little connection or touching, it is a loving hug, one like the many I have shared with Robert since he woke up from surgery.

“You guys hungry?” Kash asks.

“Starving!” Mercedes says.

We pick up takeout from Sonar, a Mexican restaurant Lo used to work at that makes the best chicken chimichangas I’ve ever tasted. After stuffing ourselves and reminiscing about each of our trips, Kash, King, Mercedes, and Robert engage in a battle of wills centered around where Robert will be staying. They are convinced he needs to stay at the house where they will be able to watch over him and ensure he’s safe. Robert is insistent that as an adult, he is capable of making the decision on his own, and taking care of himself. When Kash mentions Lo and I flying across the country to help, Lo takes the opportunity to drink deeply from her bottle of beer, leaving every eye in the room on me.

Pursing my lips, I look to each of them, stopping on Robert. “You just had heart surgery. And while I realize you’re feeling great, and having you stay will be both an inconvenience and a shot to your ego, I also know you. I know you love family. You love life. You love caring about others. Right now, that’s exactly what they … what
we
want for you. We want you to be safe and healthy, so you’re able to be the pain in our asses that we love you being.”

Robert dips his head, and I can see a multitude of rebuttals getting lined up, likely beginning with how he’s never been a pain in our asses.

“Just stay for the weekend, and after you go to the doctor’s and get some more information, you can go back to your bachelor pad and plan more of your compound,” I suggest, trying my best to sound diplomatic because I know being stubborn isn’t the best way of attacking this.

“Compound?” Lo asks, her forehead creased.

“He wants to buy a giant plot of land and build houses for everyone,” I explain.

“Not just houses. Land for raising food and water to produce power—”

“Yeah, let’s not tell her how far off your rocker you are, old man,” King interrupts Robert. “The point is, we want you to stay.”

“King will even make you breakfast,” Kash offers, attempting to sweeten the deal.

“Hell, I’ll stay for that,” I say.

Kash’s brown eyes meet mine, lacking both humor and sarcasm, two of our most common fallbacks. Instead, I stare at the width of them, noticing how the green in his shirt makes them appear a lighter brown with subtle hints of green so light that they’re nearly gold. When he looks at me, I wonder what he sees. The me who was taught how to smile and stand just right or the version of myself I think I am—tough, fierce, and bold with so little caution that I forgot to protect even myself—or the me I feel like when I’m with him, which is a version of the two so intricately woven that it’s tough for me to decipher where each begins and ends. It’s gotten to the point I think they’re becoming one.

“Monday afternoon, I’m going home after my doctor’s appointment,” Robert states the words with so much assurance it sounds as though he came up with the plan himself.

No one argues or celebrates a victory. We all simply nod in unison and push back from the table.

“Can I pick the house colors?”

I look to Lo at her random question. King is already laughing.

“What are you talking about? Everyone likes the color of my house,” Robert says.

“Just because they mention it doesn’t mean they like it,” Mercedes purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s classic!” Robert exclaims.

“It was in the fifties.” Lo grins playfully. “Lime green holds a special place in my heart too. I’m sure we can find really great places for it.”

Robert grumbles something as we make our way into the living room, and it’s accepted with more easy laughter.

Mercedes tries to stay up with us as we relive more of our trip to Florida and Universal Studios, barely touching on the entire surgery or stay at the hospital. I think we’re all so glad for it to be over, we don’t even want to acknowledge it until we learn more. Somewhere in the middle of my butchering a professor’s name from Harry Potter, Lo correcting me, and the guys laughing at our experience with Butterbeer, we realize Mercedes has fallen asleep with her head resting against Kash’s shoulder, and her feet in my lap.

“I’d take her to bed, but decrepit ole me isn’t supposed to lift anything heavy.” Robert’s face contorts with disgust, clearly unhappy with his new restrictions. For dinner, he also ordered what Lo had advised was the most heart-healthy item on the menu and passed on a beer.

“You guys have had a long day. A long few days.” Kash carefully slides out from under Mercedes while cradling her head. It’s a practiced move, one that I’ve seen a few hundred times, yet never fails to make my heart expand.

“A bag of your things is in the guest room, and clean towels, a toothbrush, and soap are in the bathroom. If you need anything else, you know where to find us,” Kash says.

Robert pulls in a deep breath through his nostrils as he stands, and I’m filled with relief when I note that nothing about the way he moves has changed. He doesn’t appear weaker or in any way impacted by either the heart attack or his surgery.

“I survived Vietnam. I think I can handle your plush guest room.”

“I don’t know. There might be dust bunnies bigger than you in there. You’d better watch out,” King smiles his lopsided grin that Lo loves to sketch, and Robert flips him off, making us all chuckle, before he disappears down the hallway.

“You’ll see us on Monday.” King stands from the couch, pulling Lo up with him.

“You’re on breakfast duty, man,” Kash objects as he turns with Mercedes balanced in his grip. “You can’t renege on your end of the deal.”

“I didn’t make the deal.”

But King’s words are lost as Kash is already heading to Mercedes’ bedroom.

King grins, his eyes dancing with excitement that assures me whatever he’s thinking about, I don’t want to hear the details.

“We will manage. Go do … Lo.” I say with a laugh.

Lo’s cheeks redden, her eyes rounding with embarrassment, but she doesn’t say anything. She makes an idle threat that King ends by firmly pressing his lips to hers.

My truck is in the driveway. I’m certain my keys are either in the office or the kitchen. It’s late, yet I’m not tired at all, and the idea of going to my empty house is less appealing than sitting on another seven-hour flight, but I stand and prepare to leave.

“I want to hear more about Universal Studios,” Kash says, returning to the living room with a smirk rolling his lips into a smile that has me facing him with one nearly as wide.

“It was pretty great. There, is that what you wanted to hear? That I am now dying to watch the movies, and might even be tempted to read the novels that are both taller and wider than my head.”

“Your head’s bigger than that. Hell, there are times you come out of the shop, and I don’t think it’ll fit in the living room.”

“Knight, you’re asking for trouble,” I warn, reaching for another beer because I want an additional reason to stay. At this point, I’m desperate for one.

His smile reaches that note of irresistible that I have seen girls nearly topple over. It’s not their fault—it’s not my fault—it is simply an effect of Kashton Knight, and it leaves me utterly breathless as I try to recall what I just said.