“Why didn’t we drive to Dover with him?”
Dom shakes his head. “He doesn’t do lovey-dovey couples. Can’t stand them. He probably wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get stuck in a make-out-fest.”
“Isn’t he happy for you?”
“He is, but it’s complicated,” Dom says. His phone rings. He puts it on silent. I wonder what’s so complicated about being happy for your older brother and his new girlfriend.
“He sounds like a character.”
“He is, but . . .” He smiles. “Don’t write him off just yet, all right? He’s a good guy.”
An hour and a half after we hit the road, Dom pulls up at a gray shingle-styled house in a picturesque cul-de-sac. With three garage spaces, big bay windows, and tended rosebushes.
Dom turns off the ignition and rounds the car. He opens the door for me. I get out and smooth out my oversize black sweater, which serves as a dress over my black leggings. I put on a white dress shirt with a Peter Pan collar underneath, to look more preppy than goth. I also tamed my fire-engine hair into a braid and tucked my septum piercing into my nose so it’s not visible. If Pippa saw me right now, she’d call me a sellout. A fraud. She wouldn’t be off base. I feel strange in my own skin.
Dom hauls both our suitcases out of his trunk. The front door opens.
A petite woman with sharp yet pleasant features hurries toward the car. Her hair is naturally gray and cut short. Her smile makes her entire face open up. She is wearing a red turtleneck dress.
She flings herself over Dom and cries, “Oh, honey. How I’ve missed you.”
Something inside me breaks. Because there is nothing I want more in this world than to hug my mom, but she is six feet under.
Dom kisses his mother, cups her cheeks, and takes a step back to observe her. I love seeing men being affectionate with their mothers. I love seeing them tenderly clasp the women who made them, especially when they’re over two heads taller than them.
“You look amazing, Mom.”
“You look tired. And stunning. But mostly tired.” She laughs. I realize that she is spot on. Dom looks exhausted. I normally don’t pay attention to it because . . . well, because he is a nurse, and maybe that’s just the way they are.
“Let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Lynne.”
I don’t correct him that my name is Everlynne. It seems redundant at this point. He likes the name Lynne—so what?
Smiling big, I reach a hand out to her. “Hi, Mrs. Graves. Thank you so much for having me.”
“Call me Gemma, honey. Thank you so much for coming! Dom speaks so highly of you. I’m glad to finally meet.” She grabs my suitcase and wheels it in. I try to protest, but she shakes her head vehemently. “No, no, you’re a guest. Now, come inside. There are refreshments and some warm-up pies before dinner. Dad and Seph are already arguing over the Red Sox. Your interference would be most welcome.”
“Shocker,” Dom snorts out. “Don’t worry, I’ll make them behave.”
The inside of the Graveses’ home is just as impressive and grand as the outside. All wooden floors, chandeliers, plush carpets, and upholstered sofas. As if sensing my insecurity, Dom presses a hand to the small of my back and drops a kiss to the crown of my head. “You’re doing great, babe,” he whispers as we follow his mother. “She loves you.”
When we walk into the informal living room, we find that it is empty. Gemma parks her balled fists against her waist and frowns. “Why, they were here just a second ago. Now, where in the heck did those two disappear to?”
She peers behind Dom and me, and her face breaks into another huge smile. “Oh, there they are.”
And then I feel it. A brewing storm. The small hairs on my arms stand on end, like lightning is about to strike. I want to fall to my knees and bend forward, dodge being electrocuted.
But I know it’s too late. That thunder has already struck me.
All it takes is for me to turn around.
I swivel on my heel. And then I see him.
Seph Graves is standing in front of me; only I don’t know him as Seph Graves at all.
I know him as Joe. My Joe.
My lost love and my downfall is my boyfriend’s younger brother.
The limb I’ve been missing these past six years.
He is here. In the flesh.
And he looks gutted to see me.
Every single one of the Graves family members is staring at me right now, but I can’t get a word out of my mouth. I’m thunderstruck, my face probably whiter than a sheet.