“Oh, I would love to, but I’m already still a little tipsy, and I have to sober up to drive Reese home.”

“That’s nonsense. Just stay the night. Oliver has more than enough space for you both. Isn’t that right, Ollie?”

“Of course. I have some extra pajamas you can borrow too. It’s probably best not to be driving this late at night on the holiday too. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

Emery hesitated for a moment, nuzzling on her bottom lip.

“Come on, Emery. We only get this one life. We might as well make some good memories with it,” Mom said, sounding very carpe diem. It must’ve been the wine talking.

“Well, okay. If I stay I can clean up a bit better in the morning when I’m sober,” Emery said, before turning toward me. “Are you sure it’s not a problem?”

“Of course he’s sure,” Mom said, waving me off and grabbing Emery’s hand. “Now, come on—let’s get outside and dance. That way Richard and I can teach you both about the good ol’ music from the old days.”

The two of them walked off, leaving me with a strange feeling in my chest.

For the first time in a while, my heart felt full.

21

EMERY

The energy of the day was so wonderful to take in. Exhaustion was present, but it was the good kind of tiredness. An exhaustion that came from an outstanding time. Watching Reese find two friends who weren’t bullies felt like the highlight of the day for me. The second highlight was hearing that Oliver was having a good day. And the third highlight? Oliver’s parents.

Watching Oliver’s parents felt like watching an old romantic movie. His parents were the most caring and attentive people in the world, and the way they looked at one another and laughed together was what dreams were made of. I wanted that someday—a love that lasted throughout the decades.

Those two loved in a way that made other humans swoon in their presence.

The four of us were gathered in the backyard, listening to old-school music, and I swore we laughed more than I thought possible. Oliver seemed more himself than I’d ever witnessed, and I could tell it was because his parents meant so much to him.

“I swear Oliver has the most intense favorites playlist on his phone,” Richard commented, shaking his head. “What number is it at?”

“Six hundred and sixty-eight,” Oliver remarked.

“Six hundred and sixty-eight!” Richard repeated. “Those aren’t favorites. Those are just songs! A favorite list should have a max of ten, tops. Otherwise, it’s just a list of songs.”

I pulled out my phone and opened my music app. “Well, I have eight hundred and ten on my favorites list,” I said. I smirked over to Oliver and arched an eyebrow. “Step up your game.”

“You two should exchange playlists to see if you have any favorites in common,” Michelle said. “It might take days to get through the lists, though.”

“I’m still stuck on the over eight hundred songs of favorites.” Richard’s jaw was wide with disbelief. “You youngsters are doing too much. I could listen to the same ten songs over and over again and be a happy man.”

“You do listen to the same ten songs every day,” Michelle groaned, rolling her eyes.

“You act like you don’t like them just as much as me, woman. Speaking of, Oliver, come help me put my top-ten playlist on the speaker. I’ll show you all good music in under ten songs.” The two men headed off to the sound system to hook up Richard’s phone.

“You two have the greatest bond,” I said to Michelle as her husband danced around to Biggie Smalls while he scrolled through the playlist on his phone with Oliver.

“We’re just a bunch of nutjobs. It’s how we stay sane. I swear, if I hadn’t had Richard by my side these past few months, I would’ve crashed and burned.”

“I can’t imagine how tough things have been for you with your loss. I’m so sorry. I’m glad you had Richard.”

“I’m glad too. He’s my anchor. My weird, oddball anchor. What about you? Are you close with your family?”

My whole demeanor shifted, and she witnessed it happen. I shook my head. “No. My parents and I are the complete opposite of close. And my sister . . . we grew apart.” Sammie had actually reached out to me earlier that day. She wished me a happy Fourth of July, and I didn’t reply to her message. That was the first time she’d gotten in touch since hanging up on me during my time of need. I couldn’t for the life of me bring myself to respond to her message. I was still too hurt by the way she’d shut me out. Then, she had enough nerve to text me as if nothing ever happened.

That was the thing about Sammie: she disappeared and reappeared on her schedule. That wasn’t fair to me, though.