My Best Friend's Dad - Flora Ferrari Page 0,33

recognize it from somewhere. Then it clicks. It’s the song Sadie was listening to when I found her in her room studying.

I feel her tense up beside me, the quality of her breathing changing.

Then she sobs, quietly, as though she’s trying to fight it.

“Sadie?” I murmur, bringing the car to a steady stop at the side of the road, under the snow heavy branches of the pines.

I turn on the interior lights and turn to her, finding her pawing at her cheeks with her lower lip trembling. The music rumbles in the background, almost blending with the sounds of the winter that whines and hums all around us.

“I’m okay,” she says.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” I tell her.

She glances at me. “It’s just this song,” she whispers. “When I expect to hear it, that’s one thing. But when it just hits me like this … And maybe it’s the drive, too.”

“Talk to me,” I say as softly as I can, reaching across to smooth the hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

“I don’t want to spoil our date,” she murmurs.

“Your feelings are more important than any date,” I tell her firmly. “I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me. Because you can. Always.”

We sit in silence for a long time, Sadie’s cheeks turning crimson, but I’m not sure if it’s from the heat blasting within or the pain doing the same.

I don’t try to push her, sensing that she needs to work up to this in her own time. Her face is a tapestry of long withheld pain, causing a resounding answering note of pathos inside of me.

“They slipped on an icy road,” she says quietly, her hands worrying at each other. “I guess I’ve been sitting here this whole time wondering if the same is going to happen to us, you know? It’s silly.”

“It’s not,” I whisper.

She shrugs. “Anyway, it was the first year of college and I was studying, listening to that album like I always did. I’m one of those people who can listen to the same album over and over without getting bored. I was reading about behavioral ecology, I think, the first module of the semester. And then I get this phone call from Mom’s phone. That was what really messed me up. They called from her phone. I guess it was easier to get my number that way. They told me that she’d—”

She shatters into a tangle of tears and pain, her whole body shaking as the sobs reverberate through her. I wrap my arm around her, leaning across the handbrake and smoothing her tears away, kissing her on the forehead and telling her it’s going to be okay, over and over, trying to make her believe it.

She bolsters herself, biting down, as though she can force away the heartache through sheer will.

“They called Aaron afterward … he’s my brother.”

“Older or younger?” I asked.

“Older. He’s in Vietnam at the moment. He’s a photographer.”

“I’d like to meet him,” I say.

She smiles, brightening her expression. “I’m sure you will,” she says. “He was on the other side of the country, but then there was this knock at my door. It was Fiona. She’d heard me crying. We’d only known each other for a couple of weeks, but somehow we’d become best friends in that time. I’ve never had a friend like her—”

She chokes back another sob.

I’m so proud of you, Fiona, I think.

“She held me as I cried. I don’t know how long it was, but it was a long time. It felt like years. So, yeah, that’s the story of crazy Sadie and the song that sets her off.”

I smooth more tears from her eyes.

“I’m here for you,” I tell her. “I’ll always be here for you.”

She reaches up and touches my face. “Thank you, Flame,” she whispers, with an endearing laugh beneath her voice. “But if you don’t let go of me, I might start crying again and ruin my makeup.”

“You’re beautiful without it,” I say with passion, truthfully. “You’re a picture, Sadie, a gorgeous goddamn picture.”

“Why, Saul?” she whispers.

“Why what?” I mutter in confusion.

She leans back and regards me as if I’ve just asked the stupidest question in the world.

It’s so easy to imagine her aiming a similar expression at our children, eyebrow arched, lips pursed. Did you really think I wouldn’t know that you sneaked into the treats jar, young man? I hear her say in my mind, wearing an apron and steam from her