Meet Cute Read online

  Chapter Two

  Orphans

  Daxton

  Six Months Later

  I’m staring at a stupid meme—of myself. The image is more than a decade and a half old, but it never seems to stop circulating the internet abyss. It’s one of those I Hate Monday memes, complete with an ugly cry face.

  One of my colleagues and close friends sent it early this morning, so it’s the first email I check. Felix McQueen, a defense lawyer at Freeman and Associates, does it at least once a month under the guise of an URGENT email. We’ve been tight since undergrad, so I put up with his shit.

  Also, his emails often are urgent, so I rarely hesitate to open them. He thinks he’s being funny, but in reality it’s another reminder that I will never live down my years as a child TV star, no matter how far I’ve come since the days of Teen Beat magazine spreads.

  The knock on my door has me closing the email. Not that it matters. Everyone in the office has seen the same damn meme at some point. Felix has a coffee mug boasting the image, and he loves to drink out of it at meetings. Because he’s an asshole. Whatever. At least my humiliation is profitable. And I’m immune to it. Mostly.

  I flip Felix off as his head appears in the doorway. “Thanks for being an asshole, asshole.”

  He makes a face, one I can’t really read. “Sorry about the stupid email. I wouldn’t have sent it if I’d known.”

  “Known what?”

  He mutters something I don’t catch, his expression somber, almost convincing in his remorse. “I gotta talk to you.”

  I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, a heavy feeling I can’t explain settling in my gut. I brush it off with sarcasm. “I already know there’s a twenty-four-hour It’s My Life marathon this weekend. No, I don’t want to watch it with you and let my vagina hang out.”

  He closes the door behind him and passes a hand over his tie. He seems fidgety, which is unlike him.

  “What’s wrong? Did you lose the Kent case?” The jury has been deliberating for two days. It’s only a matter of time before they make a decision, but it could go either way.

  Felix shakes his head, refusing to look me in the eye as he comes around the side of my desk. “It’s not about a case.”

  “Well then, what’s it about? What’s with this?” I motion to his serious face.

  He scrubs at his chin with his palm, expelling a long breath. “Your parents were in a car accident.”

  Disbelief needles under my skin, but anger is what pushes to the surface. “Don’t fuck with me, Felix.”

  He licks his lips, throat bobbing with a hard swallow. “I wish I was, but I’m not.”

  My chair flies backward as I push to stand, making the glass rattle when it connects with the windowpane behind me. “Are they okay? Which hospital were they taken to? How bad was the accident?”

  The answers I don’t want are already written on his face in grief. “It was fatal. I’m so sorry.”

  His statement ricochets around in my head, the word fatal a blow to the heart. “They’re…dead? Both of them?” I have to strain to hear him over the rush of blood in my ears.

  “They were on the freeway. A tractor trailer jackknifed.”

  “How did you find out? How do you know this?” Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion and fast-forward at the same time. My mind spins with this new, horrifying truth.

  “The police are here. I thought it would be better if the news came from someone who gives a shit. I’m so sorry, Dax. The police said they died on impact. Your parents wouldn’t have felt anything.”

  I reach behind me for my chair and drop back into it, my legs suddenly watery. I drag a palm down my face, the news pinging around in my head, unwilling to settle. A crushing realization hammers into me: This loss isn’t just mine. This sudden gaping hole in my chest is echoed in another, more fragile body. “Emme?”

  “She’s at school. She doesn’t know yet.”

  I root around in my desk for my keys. “I have to— I need to get her. I need to be the one who tells her. I don’t want anyone else to tell her.” Poor Emme. I’m thirty and this is crushing me. How is this going to impact my kid sister? How is she going to survive without parents?

  I round my desk only to have Felix step in front of the door. “Whoa, Dax, you can’t drive.”

  I fist the lapels of his suit jacket, anger and grief stealing rationality. “They’re her world. I need to get her, and you need to get out of my fucking way.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders, none of my aggression echoed in him. “I know, man. I’ll take you. You have to keep it together though, okay? You’re all she has. If you need to fall apart, do it now, because you have to be in control once you get to her.”

  He’s right. I’m all she has. And now she’s all I have, too. I’m not sure which one of us is worse off for it.

  Before I can leave the office, I speak with the cops. Felix was right to be the one to tell me. They wear apathetic expressions, so accustomed to delivering bad news in the form of death. I vomit into the wastebasket beside my desk when I find out the tractor trailer was a fuel truck that exploded on impact. Which is also the moment I break down.

  I don’t remember cleaning myself up in the bathroom after the cops leave. I don’t remember getting into the elevator with Felix. I don’t remember getting into his car. When I arrive at the school, I tell Felix not to bother waiting. We’ll get an Uber or something. I don’t know how long this is going to take, and as much as Felix is my best friend, I need to do this with Emme on my own.

  My entire body feels as if it’s encased in cement. It’s so hard to move, to think. The pain in my chest is a vicious, pervasive ache I can barely function around as I climb the stairs to the front doors.

  I arrive at the beginning of lunch. I wait in a chair beside a sullen preteen boy who’s clearly gotten himself into trouble based on his hunched shoulders, while they retrieve Emme from the cafeteria.

  “Daxton? What’re you doing here?” I look up to find my aunt Linda, my mother’s sister, standing behind the reception desk as grating bells ring through the building. Her questioning smile drops as she takes me in.

  I’m sure my eyes are red rimmed and my expression is grim. I push up out of the chair with the half-destroyed armrests and run a heavy hand through my hair. “I need to see Emme.”

  “Is everything okay?” Linda asks, suddenly on alert.

  “No. It’s not.”

  Before I can explain further, Emme’s excited voice twists my stomach into a tighter knot. “Dax?”

  I turn to find her standing in the middle of the office. I wish I could bottle her happiness at this moment since I’m about to take it all away. Her wide smile lights up her face, dark eyes sparkling with excitement as she practically dances her way to me. She throws her arms around me. “Are you here to take me for lunch?”

  It’s always something I tell her I’ll do when I see her at Sunday lunch, but work makes it difficult to follow through, especially since her school is a good twenty minutes from my office. I worry I’ve been a shit brother, too focused on my own life to be bothered to be part of hers outside of family events.

  I hug her tightly, hating that I’m about to crush her world. The pain is brutally raw, scraping at the inside of my heart.

  She pushes away, her smile full of anticipation. I want to preserve this innocence, keep her safe from the harsh realities of the world for a few more moments.

  Her expression falls, sharp brown eyes taking me in. “What’s wrong?”

  I can’t protect her from this. Nothing will soften this violent blow. “It’s about Mom and Dad.”

  “What?” She looks around as if she expects them to appear.

  My next words will change her entire life. “They were in a car accident.”

  The color drains from her face. I wish we were somewhere else. Anywhere else. Somewhere without eyes on us. A room with walls and comfort and privacy.

  She li
fts her purple-painted nails to her lips. “Are they okay?”

  My head feels heavy as I give it a slow shake. “I’m sorry. They’re gone, Emme.”

  “Gone?” she echoes.

  “They’re…dead. They died in the accident.” The words spit out like sharp gravel popping under tires.

  Her hand drops to press against her chest, as if she’s trying to keep her heart from cracking open inside. “No.” She shakes her head furiously. “They dropped me off this morning. I had a dentist appointment. They were just here. They were just here!” Her voice rises, her fear giving way to a rush of anger as I reach out to comfort her.

  “No!” She shoves me.

  “Emme!” Aunt Linda’s eyes are wide with the same shock as my sister’s.

  I’d forgotten she was here.

  “I’m so sorry, Em.”

  I grab her fists when she tries to pummel me, and I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her. I want to shield her from the agony as the truth sets in and she crumples.

  “No, Dax, no.” The fight leaves her and she sags against me, breaking into a fit of sobs, the sound full of anguish. “They were just here. They can’t be gone.”

  And all I can do is tell her how sorry I am. Over and over.

  Chapter Three

  Numb

  Daxton

  The funeral is much like pouring lemon juice on a fresh wound. Emme is a mess. I’m a mess. I act as her anchor to keep us both from drifting away in a stormy sea of raw emotions and we drag ourselves through the day together. We’ve shaken hundreds of hands, accepted as many hugs and condolences, but it in no way dispels the feeling that we’re floating, untethered in the unknown.

  I’m slouched in a beanbag chair on the floor, staring at the glow-in-the-dark solar system on Emme’s ceiling, wondering how bad the pain will be before it starts to get better. Easier.

  Emme rolls onto her side in her girlie double bed, the stuffed llama she grew out of years ago tucked under her chin. “Dax?”

  Her bedside lamp casts shadows over her face, making her dark eyes look hollow. She’s been sleeping with the light on since Mom and Dad passed.

  “What’s up, kiddo?”

  Her fingers are at her mouth. Her nails are bitten ragged, the skin around them torn and bleeding. She’s so anxious and emotional, no wonder she doesn’t want to sleep alone.

  “Mom had to reschedule my dentist appointment because it was at the same time as my presentation. That’s why they drove me to school.”

  “Ah, kiddo, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

  “But they might still be here. They might not be gone—” She breaks down again, as she’s done so many times over the past few days. She uses her stuffed llama’s feet to wipe her tears away. She looks so young, like the little girl whose scrapes I sometimes bandaged so many years ago. But I can’t cover this wound with a Band-Aid. It’s just too deep.

  I want to tell her to try not to think about it, to just remember the good things, but Emme is like me in this regard. She can’t stop thinking about it, and not talking isn’t going to help her. I brush her hair away from her face—something I’ve seen my mother do a million times. I wish I had the right words and my mother’s soft hug to make it better.

  “They could’ve stopped at a coffee shop on the way to the freeway, Em. If they’d been one minute either way, it could’ve been someone else and not them. It’s not your fault.”

  “I just want them back. I want to wake up and I want them to be here and I want this to just be a really bad dream.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  I let her cry, because I don’t know what else to do. When there are no more tears, she asks in a meek voice if I’ll stay until she falls asleep. I pull the beanbag chair next to her bed and settle in.

  I wake up at midnight with a stiff back. Emme is fast asleep. Thank God. She’s been up the past couple of nights with bad dreams, and I stay with her until she falls asleep again. I tiptoe out of her room and down the hall, desperate not to disturb her.

  I’m exhausted, but now that I’m awake, my brain is in motion. Tomorrow the lawyer is coming to read the will. He knew my dad personally, so the house call is out of respect for him and our family. There’s so much paperwork to go through, and my mind has been scattered. I decide it might be best to review some of it before Thomas arrives in the morning so that I’m somewhat prepared. Especially where Emme and custody are concerned.

  Light seeps out from the crack at the bottom of my dad’s office door. I don’t remember leaving it on when I was in there earlier. Aunt Linda jumps when I push it open to peek inside. She’s been staying with us during the funeral arrangements, which has been helpful, sort of. She has a habit of coming in and taking over, which can be hard to handle.

  “Oh! Daxton, you scared me. I didn’t realize you were still awake.” She puts the files she’s holding into the drawer of my dad’s desk.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Just tidying up. There’s going to be a lot to sort out in the next few weeks.” Her smile is sympathetic. “It’s a big job, going through this house. Craig and Evelyn have been here since before you were born. Have you thought about how you’re going to manage that?”

  “I guess it all depends on what the will says.” I assume the house is going to me or eventually to Emme once she’s old enough, but I won’t know for sure until tomorrow. So many things are up in the air until then.

  “Of course. So much to consider. Well, I should be going to bed. We have an early morning what with reading the will and all.” She crosses the room, her hand resting on my shoulder. “You should get some sleep. You’ll need a clear head.”

  She moves to the hall, and turns around again, as if she’s waiting for me to leave the office. I’m foggy and suddenly exhausted all over again by the thought of making sense of all this paperwork.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I close the door to the office and follow her up the stairs, heading down the hall to my teenage bedroom, wondering what tomorrow will look like.

  In the morning, I get dressed on autopilot and end up in a suit out of habit. I find Emme in the kitchen, making herself a fruit smoothie—with ice cream. It’s early, but I let it slide. Her appetite hasn’t been great the past few days, so if she wants ice cream first thing in the morning, she can have it.

  Thomas arrives promptly at ten and pulls me into a hug, patting my back and murmuring his condolences. He’s far more formal with Linda, but no less pleasant. He turns a soft smile on Emme and comments on how much she looks like our mother, which makes her teary. I put an arm around her and hug her to my side.

  “Why don’t we do this in the dining room, where we can be comfortable?” I suggest.

  I just want to get through this so we can move forward. I feel like we’re all trapped in a state of limbo, waiting for our new realities to begin.

  We settle in the dining room, and Thomas begins by reviewing the breakdown of assets. The house is mine—which I anticipated, and everything else is split between me and Emme. Financially, my parents’ accounts are divided in Emme’s favor because I already have a boatload of money that I’ve managed well so far, thanks to my parents’ guidance.

  “Dax, you’ll have power of attorney over Emme’s accounts and the funds your parents have allocated to support her. It appears your parents have given you some leeway so you can make adjustments based on need, but in addition to the social security checks, which should be significant, you’ll also get an allowance each month for care and expenses.”

  “I’m sorry, maybe I’m confused, but how can Daxton have power of attorney if I’m the legal guardian? How effective is that if I have to ask him to approve every single financial decision that might benefit Emme’s future?” Linda asks.

  I was actually wondering the same thing.

  Thomas graces her with one of his polite smiles. “Daxton is Emme’s legal guardian, hence he has power of attorney.”

  In my u
nder-slept, grievous state, it takes several seconds for that information to sink in. I don’t have a chance to ask for clarification, or for Thomas to repeat that information, because Linda does it for me. “But Evelyn told me I would be responsible for taking care of Emme should anything happen to her and Craig.”

  Thomas glances from me to Linda. “According to the will and trust papers, which were signed by both Evelyn and Craig, Daxton has been named Emme’s legal guardian.” He addresses me. “Were you unaware of this?”

  I’m gripping my own armrests, the news slow to sink in. “I was unaware.”

  Emme sits up straighter, her eyes wide. “I get to live with Dax?”

  Thomas smiles softly. “That’s right, Emme. Dax is legally responsible for taking care of you.”

  “So I don’t have to move? I can stay right here?”

  “Provided Daxton chooses to keep the house, yes.” Thomas addresses Linda and me. “Your parents made changes to the will a little over six months ago. Just after your thirtieth birthday, Daxton. Until that point, guardianship had been appointed to Linda and…” He flips through the pages. “Victor. But then I understand you separated from your husband. Is that correct, Linda?”

  “Well yes, we separated, but I wasn’t aware Evelyn had changed custody.” She seems stunned more than anything, which I understand, because I’m just as shocked by the news.

  “Linda, you’ve been granted secondary custody,” Thomas says.

  “What does that mean? Is that like partial custody?” Linda asks.

  “In the event that Daxton is unable to care for Emme for whatever reason, you would step in as guardian.” I can read between the lines. He means if something happens to me, God forbid, custody would shift to Linda.

  She turns her attention to me, obviously flustered. “Daxton, you have to see how difficult this would be with the hours you work. Taking care of a teenage girl is a huge responsibility. Do you have any idea how much time and energy goes into raising a child?”