Of Happiness (9 page)

“Why didn’t you stand up for me then?” I burst out, the question gnawing at me since Saturday.

His eyes are still fixed on mine intently, the expression burning with urgency for me to understand. “I was thrown off my axis when you knew about Cooper. You’re incredibly intelligent; I don’t know why I thought I could hide it. Either way, when we got into my apartment, I was about to apologize to you and explain that I wasn’t ready to talk about Cooper at that moment. Which, I know, was not the right course of action. Then all of a sudden Claire and Amanda are screeching. Instead of taking care of you, I froze. As soon as I snapped out of it, you were gone.”

A slow breath escapes my lips and I shake my head. “More than anything, I wanted you to show me that we were on the same team, that you…”

Harris abruptly stands up, and moves to my side of the bench, collecting me into his arms. My cheeks lands on his chest and he runs a hand through my hair, smoothing it to the nape of my neck.

“With Claire screaming nonsense and Cooper, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I fucked up royally. Baby, I know you felt like I was picking Claire over you, but I wasn’t. Frankly, I was figuring out what the hell to do. And I decided.”

“Decided what?” I ask against the soft cotton of his T-shirt.

“This weekend Claire’s taking an extended leave of absence from work. She’s going back to an inpatient therapy program outside of the state.”

At his words, I gently extract myself from his embrace. “And why would she agree to do that?” I’m reluctant to believe she’d relent to his wishes, but Harris appears confident that she’ll respect his orders. 

“Because my sister, for all her faults, realizes she needs me.  She doesn’t contribute much at work, but stays there because I cover for her ass. Her finances would be a complete mess if it wasn’t for my help. Claire knows that I’m ultimately all she has left.”

That reminds me of another topic I’m curious about. “Will you explain what happened with your parents? What happened after Cooper died?”

“They blame Claire more for Cooper’s death than they ever did me.”

“Why would they blame her?” I ask incredulously.

“Claire and Cooper were incredibly close, two halves of one whole. After he died, she refused to tell us anything. We asked her so many damn questions and she shut us out. The night he died, Cooper told me about a journal he kept. I don’t know, I always thought it was his way of telling me he wanted me to read it. After his death, I tore the house apart trying to find it. My parents and I weren’t able to, so we asked Claire. Of course she hid it. Refused to share it with me or my parents. Needless to say, my mother couldn’t handle her grief, and my father would do anything to take care of her. They decided Australia was the best place for them because we have family there.”

I nod, but I can’t comprehend it. “You needed them and they disappeared. It wasn’t just Cooper that left. You lost your parents too and took on the burden of caring for your sister.”

“They haven’t disappeared completely from my life. Dad and I talk. We have a weekly conference call and every Sunday I talk to both of them. They tried with Claire, but she refused to have a relationship with them once they moved.”

“And you became a parent.”

He lets out a puff of air. “Like you said, Claire and I were close growing up. Once my parents were gone, she and I got along. I didn’t consider taking caring of her a burden; it was my way keeping things together after losing Cooper. Supporting her was part of my penance.” His eyes meet mine and he lifts his shoulders in an unapologetic shrug. “That’s what years of therapy taught me. I watch over Claire because I didn’t do it for Cooper.”

“You’re honesty and bravery amazes me,” I tell him gently. For a moment, he almost looks like he’s blushing, but it passes. “I know it’s painful, but will you tell me more about why your parents left?”

He takes another deep breath before continuing. “Cooper died in May; they didn’t leave until January when they realized there was no more trying to reach Claire. The more we begged her to see the journal, the more stories she concocted. First, she threw it away, then she buried it at camp. Nothing added up. It broke my mother’s heart even further, and she had to go. Believe me I was furious with them for a long time, but the truth is all of us made so many mistakes after Cooper died.”

This time when I nod, it’s with more understanding. “What did you think he wrote in the journal?”

Harris shakes his head glumly. “For so long I wanted to find out if there was something I could have done to prevent it. We thought there would be clues, a goodbye message,
anything
. Now I’ve accepted that I’ll never read it and that there’s nothing I could have done to stop him.”

The topic seems to hurt him tremendously, so I shift it. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

He blinks away some unspoken memory, then responds. “Anything you want.”

“You never drink, and I don’t want to assume the reason… but I am curious.”

“After Cooper, I never wanted to let alcohol cloud my judgment. I never want to ask myself if things would have been different if I was sober.” He says it with a note of finality, and since it doesn’t bother me, I let the topic fall away.

“What’s Claire getting treatment for?”

“It’s behavioral therapy, but part of that is her drug abuse. She’s been diagnosed bipolar.” He says it matter-of-factly, a statement that’s clearly not new.

“Do you think she’ll really go?” I wonder, still not convinced.

“Yes, she will, after she tells Amanda that you weren’t having an affair with Peter. Otherwise she won’t be living in my apartment for much longer. Managing her finances, giving her a place to live, it all enables her bad habits, and I told her I can’t support her anymore.”

“How did she respond?”

“Kicking and screaming. But she fully understands that above all else comes my relationship with you.”

Before I would have been afraid to be so honest with him, but there’s a burning question inside me. “Harris—don’t you, ah, think that’s a similar approach to your parents leaving her? That tactic wasn’t so successful.”

He mulls over my words for a moment, lips pursed.

“It’s time she grows up. If she wants to keep me around, she needs to work on herself. Of course I won’t get up and move across the country, but I can’t continue supplementing her entire lifestyle. I know my issues with her have held us back, but they’re not going to anymore, sweet Edith.”

My heart beats wildly in my chest. I can’t believe he’s made this move for our relationship. If there was any doubt in my mind that he was committed to me, it dissipates with his words.

Leaning closer, he brushes his lips softly against mine. “You have to believe me.”

“I do,” I whisper against his lips. “I’m glad you brought me here.”

Harris drops his face into the crook of my neck, nuzzling the column. “You gave me the courage to come back.”

O
n the trip to Harris’ lake house, the mood was heavy with unspoken tension. After our talk, there’s no silent confessions hanging in the air. I’m confident our relationship can withstand whatever future threats (Claire or otherwise) crop up in our way.

Without consulting me, Harris drives us back to Sean and Luke’s, stopping his car at the “No Parking” sign, naturally.

“Your call, baby.” He cocks his head toward the brick building.

The call comes easily.

“I’d like to go home with you.”

Now that we’ve had our heart to heart, he’s back to self-assured Harris, eyes flashing as he turns off the car and strolls around to open my door.

“There’s somewhere I’d like to take you on Saturday, only overnight. You’ll need to pack for that, too. Oh”—the tips of his fingers find the small of my back while I wave the fob in front of the electronic keypad to unlock the building entrance—“when we get home tonight, we’ll figure out when the movers should come.”

My feet stop moving in front of the elevator bank and Harris nearly bumps into me. “Wait. What’s that about movers?”

Reaching around my body, he punches a finger into the call button. Then he levels me with a serious stare. “There’s no need for us to pack up all your belongings and drag them to my place. We’ll hire packers and movers and it will be done in a few hours.”

“Harris, what are you talking about? Where are we going? ” My eyes rove over his calm expression, trying to determine if he’s serious. It was only a few minutes ago that we got back together. It seems mighty fast to become roommates.

“I’m taking you away for a night on Saturday, did I not mention that? And you just agreed to move in with me. What’s the confusion?” All the social cues suggest he’s serious: deadpan tone of voice, no hint of lip twitch. This man just invited me to move in with him like he would ask if I want to order in pizza for dinner. He can’t be serious.

With his palm on my back, he gently pushes me into the elevator and waits for me to press the button. I numbly comply, pondering this turn of events.

“So when you said ‘Your call, baby,’ you were prompting me to decide if I wanted to live with you? As in permanently?” I clarify incredulously when we exit the car.

In a matter of moments, Harris has my back up against a wall in the hallway, arms bracketed above me. When his hot gaze meets mine, a slow heat starts to build between my legs. Sexual tension simmers between us.

“You all are mine,” he all but growls, “and I’m yours. Is that right?”

“Yes,” I answer in a breathy voice, completely forgetting the topic of conversation. All thoughts consumed by the promise of his body.

“Then there’s no need for games. Let’s make it even easier: Luke will manage this project over the weekend. Packers will come while we’re out of town and they’ll deliver your things before we get back on Sunday.”

“This relationship just moved onto the accelerated track,” I squeak.

You’re in love with him, what are you waiting for?
Great question.

“Baby, when two people fit together as well as we do, time becomes irrelevant. There’s not one compelling reason to keep us apart. We’re meant to be side by side. Maybe to outsiders it’s fast, but fuck that. I want to be with you all the time, don’t you know that by now?”

“I know a few reasons,” I mutter. “There’s no way I’ll live with you without contributing financially.”

“Not negotiable,” he says sharply.

“Very negotiable. Don’t steamroll me on this one, Harris Grant.”

As stern as I am, he gives me a soft smile. “We’ll talk about it,” he promises. “Anything else?”

“I haven’t met Eleanor yet,” I say dumbly, referencing his housekeeper. Harris’ head falls backward when he laughs.

“If those are the only excuses you can come up with, then we’re all good. She’ll be at
our
place when we go back.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he’s right. I don’t want to waste another night apart.

“Okay.”

Harris’ arms fall to his side when I step forward, pressing up on my tiptoes. I practically throw myself at him, clasping my hands around his neck. A contagious grin spreads across his cheeks and I can’t help but giggle when he grabs me around the waist and spins me around.

“You’ve just made me the happiest man in Chicago.” By the beam displaying almost all of his teeth, I know he means it. Harris drops a kiss on the tip of my nose.

“You’re hard to resist,” I relent.

He gently places me on solid ground and with two equally satisfied smiles, we head into Sean and Luke’s apartment.

In the guest bedroom, I tug out a carryon suitcase from the closet. “What should I pack for this mystery overnight trip?”

Harris stretches out on the bed, arms crossed over his broad chest while he watches me without a care in the world.

“Bring whatever you’re comfortable in for regular summer temperatures during the day. I’m taking you shopping here for a dress to wear Saturday night.”

As I fold a sundress into the bag, I raise both eyebrows at him. “Why can’t I wear something I already have?”

“Because I’m getting you something new.” He says it so matter-of-factly with no room for argument.

Turning from him, I collect more necessities for the next several days. “You don’t need to do that.”

“No, I don’t need to, but I want to. And you’ll let me.”

“Do you realize you can be a bossy control freak at times?” I glance over my shoulder, tossing him a smile, so he knows I’m only half serious.

His lips tilt. “I’ll confess to being a control freak. But I don’t consider it bossiness. To me it’s a way of demonstrating the details of your life matter to me. You’ll let me show you that, right?”

I shuffle into the closet and pull out a fancier summer dress, the pink belted one I thought I might wear for a date with Harris.

“When you put it that way, it sounds more like a doting boyfriend,” I mumble as I pack. “No clues where we’re going?”

Smug satisfaction is evident in his voice. “One clue. We’re going to a once in a lifetime event.”

I nibble my lower lip as my mind races with possibilities. “How will we get there?”