She shrugged. “I found something you needed more.”
I needed a picture of someone else’s dog in my bedroom? Only in the mind of Scarlett could that make sense. Besides, I’d seen my real birthday painting. Amelia reached for the canvas and I passed it to her, then crossed my arms over my chest. “I saw you painting a teddy bear in your art attic.”
“I changed my mind a couple of nights ago and stayed up late,” she said, as if it was no big deal to create a new painting from scratch over a couple of nights and still make it amazing. “I think I’ll give the teddy to Amelia instead.”
Harvey sat down at my feet, grinning up at me, clearly pleased with how his day was progressing. I rubbed the top of his head. “Apparently I need to see your face in my bedroom each day.”
Harvey did his slow, satisfied pant, seeming to agree.
Jane came to stand next to me. “Finn, we’ve been talking,” she said, exchanging a smile with her husband, “and we’d be overjoyed if you wanted to keep Harvey. He seems to have grown quite attached to you.”
Amelia jumped out of her seat. “Yes!”
My stomach fell as I looked around the expectant faces. I’d had an idea they might suggest this, but still, it was an awkward thing, especially in front of everyone.
I conjured a smile. “Thank you for the offer, but I think Harvey is better off with you. He likes us, but he’s your dog.”
“What?” Amelia cried, but I didn’t glance over. I couldn’t. Disappointing her or Billie made my chest hurt, but I knew this was the best move for us all.
Jane met my eyes for a moment then nodded. “Okay. We’d love to have him on the road with us.”
Amelia rounded on me, hands planted firmly on her hips, her expression disbelieving.
“You know,” Scarlett announced before Amelia could say anything, “I think we might need more food. How about Finn and I duck out and grab a couple of pizzas?”
Her mother shook her head in amazement. “If I’d known how popular that dish would be, I’d have made double. Actually, if you can wait half an hour, I can whip up another batch—”
“No need,” I said, taking a step for the door. “You’ve already done so much.” I turned to Scarlett before the new plan could be derailed. “I’ll drive.”
We were out the door before anything else could be said.
As soon as I reversed out onto the street, Scarlett said, “You really don’t think it’s a good idea to keep Harvey?”
“Nope,” I said, taking a corner and merging with traffic.
“Why?” She turned in her seat to face me. “Really and truly, the proper reason why you’ve never let a dog move in.”
I sighed. Truth? “I guess I haven’t wanted another living being to be responsible for. Billie and Amelia pretty much took up all the space in that part of my life.”
“Makes total sense,” she said gently. “But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”
How did she always see through me? Were there clues that appeared on my forehead or something?
“Nope,” I lied.
“Finn, you don’t have to tell me, but this isn’t just about a dog.”
I changed lanes then kept my eyes on the road. “You tell me what you think this is about, then.”
“Okay. Other than me, you haven’t let anyone get too close since your parents died. It’s like you’re scared to let them in.”
I tried not to flinch. That was a bit close to home, but I really didn’t want to be talking about my feelings so I shrugged as if this was no big deal.
“As you pointed out, there’s you. So if your theory was true, why would there be such a glaring exception? You’re not only my best friend, but you’ve been very close lately.” I shot her a grin.
“I’m not sure,” she said, totally ignoring my attempt to derail the conversation with sex talk. “Maybe because of the way we met? You kinda lost it when you found your roommate with me.”
My entire body tensed at the memory. That asshole standing over a girl, like he had every right to hit her if he wanted to. I had to take a couple of deep breaths before I could focus again on what Scarlett was saying.
She kept talking, covering my lapse. “Our introduction was basically you protecting me, so you added me to the list of people you were responsible for.”
I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “That supports my theory, not yours.”
“I don’t think your theory is wrong,” she persisted, “it’s just not the whole picture.”
We pulled into the pizza place’s parking lot and I cut the engine. “How about we leave it at that?” I said, my hand on the door handle.
“I think this is important, Finn.” She made no move to get out; it seemed she was digging in for the long haul.
I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face. “Scarlett, what do you want me to say here?”
“Tell me why you don’t let people close anymore. Before us, you’d date, but you never let them close enough to see the real you. You’d barely remember their names, let alone what night you were supposed to be meeting them.”
“You really want to talk about my past dates?” Given what was going on between us, this was dangerous territory.
“Not your dates specifically, no. More about your interactions with people in general. You want to know something I noticed today?” It was a question, but she barreled on before I could answer. “Your sisters both told you they love you when they gave you their presents, but you didn’t say it back to either one of them. And that got me thinking. I’ve never heard you say it to anyone. Ever.”
“I say it.”
“Who to?”
“My parents,” I said without thinking.
There was quiet stillness in the cab of the car for several heartbeats. “Have you said it to anyone since they died?”
My throat thickened. I shook my head once.
Scarlett waited. She was good at that—giving me some space. But the silence was weighted with expectation, as if she was confident I’d tell her everything if she had a little patience. I hated that, but was resigned to the fact that it was true—I’d tell her what she wanted to know eventually.
My gaze firmly locked on the view through the windshield, I started talking, slowly at first. “My parents were mildly superstitious. Not like your parents with their hippie ideas, more just the ‘knock on wood’ type. If you spill some salt, throw some over your left shoulder. Never open an umbrella inside the house. Don’t walk under a ladder—though, that one is common sense. They always said words have power, like, don’t say, ‘I’ve never broken a bone’ because it’s tempting fate, and if you accidentally do, then knock on wood.”
“But you’re not superstitious,” she said.
“Not in general, no. But the morning of the day they died, they’d given me a car. I was a typical eighteen-year-old guy and would hardly ever…” Even now I couldn’t say it. I swallowed. “…say the L word to them. But that morning I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I told them, straight out. They died about three hours later.”
“Finn—”
I held up a hand. “I know I didn’t cause their accident, and I know intellectually that my words had no impact, and that even if I had knocked on wood or whatever I needed to do to counteract it, they still would have died. And yet, there’s a tiny little thing in my chest that just refuses to say it again.”
“Or feel it, if you can help it,” she said softly.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I stretched my neck back. “I know it makes no sense at all, but Billie and Amelia are so important, I can’t risk even a stupid superstition where they’re concerned.”
Not taking her eyes off me, she tucked her feet up underneath her. “You also don’t want to risk loving and losing again. Which is why you’ve never dated seriously and why you’ve never let your sisters have a dog.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, every cell in my body restless, telling me to get out of this conversation.