The Shape of My Heart
“That’s right,” Ty said, coming down the hall with Sam’s backpack in one hand. “No take-backs. You’ll break my mom’s heart. Hey, Courtney.” He threw a smile my way.
Tall, lean and ginger, he wasn’t my type, but I could see why Nadia had fallen for him; they made sense to me as a couple. He was definitely happier than he’d been when I first moved in to the building, and she was less...wired when he was around. When I first met her, I thought she’d have a heart attack before she was forty with her constant running around and overly scheduled life. Since I hated committing to anything—even classes—my willingness to rehearse twice weekly was kind of a huge deal. A rehab shrink said that my aversion to planning related to my reluctance to move on, which contributed to my OCD issues, as well.
“That’s not what she’s asking, anyway.” Nadia summarized my request.
Soon Ty was nodding. “Not a problem. We’ll leave the keys. Use the dining room, kitchen, whatever you need.” He paused to survey the hallway with a frown. “Not sure this place is fully accessible, though. The doorways may give him some trouble, and the bathroom definitely isn’t designed properly.”
Belatedly I remembered Ty was studying architecture, so this was definitely his wheelhouse. “But the living and dining room should be fine, right?”
He nodded. “I’ll rearrange the furniture a little before we leave Wednesday, open up some wider pathways. Michael can spend the night here if you want, if he decides it’s doable.”
“Thanks. He said a hotel would be easier because the room will have the right facilities, but we’ll offer, just so he knows he’s welcome.”
Nadia wore a half-frustrated look. “I wish we could all hang out like before. But...I’m a step ahead now, huh?”
Sam opened up the trunk in the middle of the room and pulled out a basket of blocks, ignoring the rest of us. Ty glanced down at him, wearing a conflicted expression, then he pulled her toward me.
His look deepened to a sort of bemused tenderness as he wrapped an arm around Nadia’s shoulders. “Why don’t you have Thanksgiving here with your friends? You can eat with my family next year, but once everyone graduates, you may not have this chance again for a while.”
Her look brightened immediately. “Are you sure? But your sisters are coming.”
“Come over Thursday night. You can go shopping with them on Black Friday while I watch sports with my dad and Sam.”
“That’s perfect.” She bounced onto her toes and hugged him tight around the neck.
Taking that as my cue to head out, I definitely had a good feeling about the way the Thanksgiving bash was shaping up. A few days later, I went grocery shopping with Angus, excited about seeing Michael again, as if he were my little brother. Since I was an only child, that was a strange feeling...but cool, too. He sent me messages as he traveled, updating me as to where they were. I suspected he also wanted to see Max, and I couldn’t blame him.
On Wednesday, we started cooking, and at noon on Thanksgiving Day, Michael called to let us know he was near the apartment complex. Max dropped the knife he was chopping onions with and ran downstairs, excited like it was Christmas morning. I fought a stinging in my eyes and a tightness in my throat when I realized this was the first holiday in five years where he’d had any family around. I finished up chopping and added the onions to the celery in a pan. I wasn’t a great cook and Angus shooed me out when he realized I’d moved out of the preparation phase. So I hurried downstairs to greet Max’s family.
It wasn’t just Michael, but Uncle Lou, too. He looked older than he had at the funeral, though it had only been a few months. The veins in his hands seemed more pronounced, his face thinner, his body more frail. He hugged me, and I responded, at first out of surprise, but his warmth prodded me toward affection; he smelled of peppermints and camphor, his shock of white hair like dandelion fluff blowing in the brisk November wind. When I stepped back, he grabbed Max and I leaned over to give Michael a hug, too.
“We’re so glad you could make it,” I said. “It’s great to see you both.”
“Congratulations on hooking up with Courtney,” Michael said, elbowing Max.
He grinned. “It was your idea, bro.”
“I see how you are.”
“We brought wine,” Uncle Lou said.
Michael added, “Plus cheese and crackers.”
I headed toward the building and opened the front door while Max lingered with his family. Since I’d known him, I had rarely seen him this happy. Usually there was a shadow beneath his smile—not today. Waiting for them to come, I cherished the sweetness of seeing him like he was meant to be, completely at ease and...happy. He directed them through the front foyer and down the hall toward Nadia and Ty’s apartment. When he passed by last, I put a hand on his arm.
“Hang out here. I’ll help Angus and Kia cook. We’ll be down when the food’s ready. No more than a couple of hours. He’s been working on it since nine this morning.”
“Are you sure?” His gaze flickered after his family while his smile brightened, so I knew it was the right move.
“Completely. It’s no problem.”
He kissed me quickly, then jogged down the hall as Uncle Lou knocked. I waited until Nadia answered, and afterward, I hurried back up to resume my role as sous chef. Kia was largely uninterested, though she did make a nice fruit salad. And two hours later, we started ferrying dishes down to Nadia’s apartment. Inside, the decor impressed me, as she’d gone all out; somebody had obviously visited a party store and bought up turkey-day stuff, between orange horn-of-plenty paper plates, matching cups and napkins.
Max had his uncle and brother watching sports while he helped Nadia set the tables. They’d put up an extra card table and, as promised, shifted the sofa to provide a pathway that Michael could navigate without problems. I let out a silent sigh of relief, as I knew how much Max wanted this to be perfect. Judging by his smile, things were going great.
“Is your place this nice?” Michael asked as we sat down to eat.
“It’s not as well decorated,” I admitted. “But the layout’s the same and the carpet might even be cleaner.”
“Just wait until you have a five year old,” Nadia muttered.
Uncle Lou shot her a surprised look, probably wondering how old she was when she’d had him, but nobody clarified the situation. Nadia got testy when people said things like He’s not actually your kid. When she moved in with Ty, she’d gone all in. I moved the conversation along by complimenting Angus’s turkey.
“It’s really delicious,” I said. “Better than my mom’s, even, and last year I ate at home. I wasn’t living with you guys then, anyway.”
“Don’t remind me of those dark times,” Max joked.
“If you two are gonna start with the sweet talk, I’m taking my plate upstairs.” Kia threatened to stand up, but Angus yanked her back down.
He frowned at us. “Are you people completely uncivilized? We haven’t said what we’re thankful for yet.”
That wasn’t something we did at my house. Mostly we listened to my mother talk while my dad and I pretended to listen. She had a good heart and better intentions; unfortunately, she showed her concern via nagging. Supposedly it was for our betterment, but a lot of what she said left me feeling shitty.
“I’ll start,” Max said. “I’m thankful to have my friends and family together this year. And I’m thankful for Courtney.”
Warmth glowed through me. “I’m thankful to be alive and healthy...and for Max.”
“Well, that was adorable,” Kia muttered. “I’m thankful I got six hours’ sleep last night.”
Michael picked up from there. “I’m grateful I’m talking to my brother again.”
A fond smile lit up Uncle Lou’s face. His gaze was bright as it lingered on Max and Michael. “I’m thankful for the food and for my two clever, handsome nephews.”
Nadia glanced around the table, her expression hard to interpret. “I appreciate the fact that my boyfr
iend understands how much I miss all of you...and that I got the chance for us all to have Thanksgiving together one last time.”
Angus gave her a half hug. “Stop. If you get emotional, I will. And you know it’s not the last time. I won’t stand for it.”
“But you’ll all be graduating. Moving on. I may still be here, but the rest of you won’t.” From Nadia’s expression, the prospect of being left behind bothered her; while she didn’t seem to regret choosing Ty, with her type A personality, it would be odd if she didn’t twitch a bit over the delay in her life plan.
I understood.
“Let’s make a deal,” I said, mostly to cheer her up. “In five years, we promise to have Thanksgiving again. No matter where we are, we figure out who’s hosting and we travel as needed to make it happen. Agreed?”
“I’m in.” Angus put his palm out and Nadia covered it, then Max and me.
Kia stared at us all before sighing and dropping her hand on top of the pile. “Lord, y’all are just determined to bond with me, huh?”
“You know it.” Angus tugged on one of her braids.
“I’ll tell Lauren. I think she’ll want to come, too,” Nadia said.
“Is she still dating your brother?” I asked.
“They broke up.” She sounded really sad about it, so I didn’t pry.
Angus stepped in, thankfully. “Wait, I didn’t go yet. I’m thankful that my parents love Del as much as I do, and that he’s so supportive.”
“How come he’s not here?” I wondered aloud.
“His family really wanted him to come home and...I didn’t want to miss our last year together.” Considering how much he’d protested when Nadia said basically the same thing, that spoke volumes on how much Angus loved us all.
We’re family, I thought.
Uncle Lou took off his glasses and wiped his eyes, visibly moved. I froze, wondering what I should do, but Michael was already on it. He put a hand on the old man’s shoulder and asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m just...glad,” he said.
Max asked, “About what?”
“That you found a home,” Uncle Lou said simply. “You don’t know how worried I’ve been about you all these years.”
Protecting Max was second-nature to me now. Since nobody else knew his family secrets, I reached across the table for the mashed potatoes and added a heaping spoon of them to my plate. “Did you make these with extra lumps, Angus? I can count three in this serving.”
He mock-threatened me with his fork. “Next time you make them, and they’ll come out like wallpaper paste.”
“In five years, I’ll be a better cook.”
For the first time, I imagined what the future might be like, what I could be doing—my job, my boyfriend. Max and I might be married by then. Twenty-six would be old enough to start thinking about it, anyway. I intended to focus on my business for a couple of years after school and he had to finish restoring my car before I’d accept any proposals. I didn’t realize I was smiling until he reached for my hand under the table. When I glanced over, he squeezed gently, his fingers stroking over mine.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
“No problem,” I answered softly.
I’ll always have your back.
After the meal, we watched football, which bored the crap out of me. Kia excused herself to take a tryptophan-induced nap upstairs; it was impossible to mind, knowing how little sleep she got. So while the guys yelled at the TV, Nadia and I sat in the dining room, nibbling leftovers. She wore a wistful look as she studied Angus and Max. Uncle Lou was dozing while they argued over somebody’s chances at getting to the Superbowl.
“Hey, we made a pact.”
She started, glancing at me. “I know. I’m just feeling it today, you know? How it’s all winding down.”
“I get it. I can’t believe I’m about to graduate—that we’ve been here four years. I didn’t want to ask in front of the guys, but...is Lauren okay? Should I call her?” I had never been close to her, mostly because I secretly envied how much of Max’s attention she’d demanded without even trying.
“Honestly? I don’t know. It’s up to you. She and I don’t talk as much as we used to, though I’m trying to get back to where we were. Max seems like he’s over her, though. I’m glad you guys got together.”
I flicked a glance his way, admiring the sheer beauty of his profile. “Me, too. I...always liked him. But I didn’t think... I’m not his type.”
“He’s clearly nuts about you.” Nadia nudged me, grinning.
“It’s mutual.”
Before she could respond, Uncle Lou stirred and rubbed his chest. Max leaned over and peered at him, obviously worried. “You okay?”
“Touch of indigestion. That’s what I get for eating so much.”
“If you’re sure.”
“We should hang out more,” Nadia said. “That’s on me. I’m not too busy to make time, it’s just easier to be lazy and hang out with Ty.”
“Plus you can’t get enough of him,” I teased. “Before, there were all these codicils and regulations. Now he’s just yours.”
“That’s kinda true,” she mumbled, blushing.
I grinned. “If you could see your face right now.”
“Shut up.”
“It’s awesome, I’m glad you’re happy.”
We talked until night fell, then Nadia had to go to Ty’s family, our cue to break up the party. Max hugged his uncle and brother, like, five times, though they were coming back the next day. He intended to show them the garage where he worked and give them a tour of campus, something college students usually did before enrollment, and I knew exactly how much of a big deal this was for Max. I fought the urge to wrap my arms around him and never let go. Don’t let him down. Don’t hurt him. But I couldn’t say those things out loud—and I didn’t think Michael and Uncle Lou would. I just had this crazy need to keep anyone from hurting Max more than he already had been. Whatever it takes, I thought.
Back then I didn’t realize I’d be the one to make him bleed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Saturday morning, I woke up next to Max and rolled out of bed quietly.
Tiptoeing to the kitchen, I made breakfast in silence, early enough that he shouldn’t catch me. And since it was his birthday, I was hoping to surprise him with breakfast in bed. Later, we were planning to hang out with his family and show them what little there was to see in Mount Albion. Max had planned the agenda, but I suspected he didn’t realize I remembered what day it was. His gift was wrapped and in my closet.
Thanks to Angus, our kitchen was fully stocked with housewares we rarely used, so I set up the tray and put Max’s present on it. Then I slipped into the bedroom and perched on the bed beside him. It was past nine, and we were meeting his brother and uncle at eleven, so we had time. For a few seconds, I just watched him sleep. His lashes were incredibly long and lush, black crescents against his tan cheeks. I resisted the urge to touch his lower lip, such a soft, beautiful curve. Looking at him, it was hard to credit everything he’d been through; nobody had given him a hand, either. Everything he’d achieved, he’d done it on his own.
Eventually he stirred, eyes fluttering open. Before he even woke fully, he was smiling up at me. “Can’t get enough of me, huh?”
“Never. Happy birthday, Max.”
“Shit.” He sat up in apparent astonishment, rocking the tray beside him.
I put it across his lap and he slow-blinked at scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. It wasn’t fancy, no adorable strawberry roses and hotcakes shaped like hearts, but the smile that bloomed made me feel like I’d accomplished something awesome. Max picked up the gift I’d wrapped in silver foil and blue ribbon. For a few seconds, he just held it and stared.
“What?” His nonresponse was making me nervous.
“You know how long it’s been since anyone remembered my birthday?”
A pang of guilt shot through me. Last year I’d had so many problems with Mad
ison in the dorm that I hadn’t even thought about it; I’d raced back to Chicago without a second thought. On the surface, Max seemed to have friends all over the place, so I’d figured somebody—probably his roommates—would throw him an awesome party. But to my best recollection, Nadia and Lauren went home for Thanksgiving and Angus was probably preoccupied with Josh.
“I’d be a crappy girlfriend if I didn’t,” I said gently.
He treated the wrapping paper like it was pressed platinum, carefully unfolding each corner, until I started feeling nervous about his reaction to what was inside. When he got to the jeweler’s box, I held my breath. But he didn’t hesitate, just opened it up to reveal the most rugged dress watch I’d been able to afford. As he pulled it out of the case, I turned it over to show him the engraving on the back. I’d waffled over the inscription for ages, nearly exhausting the clerk’s patience. In the end, the message was simple: I love you. And then our initials intertwined in pretty script below.
“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
Leaning forward, I kissed him, and the breakfast tray prevented him from yanking me down on top of him. “Glad you like it. Now eat. We’re meeting your family pretty soon.”
“Do you think that’s why they came?”
“Part of it, probably.” I hoped so, anyway.
Max shared his food with me, offering every other bite. My own cooking even tasted better when he was holding the fork. Afterward, he got up and folded the wrapping paper, then stashed it in a heavy textbook. I didn’t say anything but I felt pretty sure he intended to keep it. The moment was too sweet for teasing, though, so I just hugged him and went to take a shower. Today, it would be nice if we could do it together, but out of respect for Kia and Angus, I restricted myself to separate bathrooms. Our roomies were still asleep when we headed out—or maybe in Angus’s case, he wasn’t even home. Still, I tiptoed so Kia wouldn’t lose out on a rare occasion to sleep in.
On coming downstairs, I saw Michael’s Scion already parked by the curb, though we were five minutes early. He broke out in a huge grin when he spotted Max. Missed your brother, huh? Please remember what day it is.