Shock widened her eyes as she placed a hand to her mouth. “You still have that?”
How could she think he’d get rid of it?
“Jesus, Julie, I have everything you’ve ever given me, including that horrible mix tape of Vanilla Ice and New Kids on the Block. It was all in that box.”
“You ran into a burning building to save the cheesy presents I’ve bought you over the years?”
He scowled at her. “They weren’t just presents. They’re memories. Our memories, Julie. You’re the only family I have. That box meant a lot to me.”
“Oh, Tommy. I-I…” She paused, brows pulling together in thought.
Ah fuck, she was going to say something to make this worse. Before she could find the words she was searching for, he waved his hand. “It’s gone now. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Out of everything he’d lost, that hat had hit him the hardest. Which was crazy, really. He never went into the box of mementos he kept of his and Julie’s decades-long friendship. But knowing it was gone, it felt as though someone had torn his guts out.
Grabbing the envelope, he opened the door and moved to the back of the car. Thumping the top of the trunk, he waited for Julie to pop it. After he grabbed the shopping bags, he strode up the walkway.
When it came right down to it, Julie was his family. His only family. He didn’t have any siblings.
Had no clue who his father was. His mom had been worthless—an alcoholic who’d marched men in and out of the house like it was the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. The only good thing that woman had ever done for him was rent the house next door to the one Julie’s family moved into.
Julie was all he had. And he’d just lost every single memory of their friendship that he’d kept buried in the back of his closet like a goddamn treasure chest. Fisting his hands around the shopping bags, he shook off the thought, focusing on reaching the front door and not the torrent of emotions that was threatening to take him down.
The house was small, as was the front yard, and it was perfect for Julie. In the spring, the now-dead garden beds in front would no doubt overflow with colorful annuals that she’d plant when she got spring fever—which she got like clockwork each April. She’d sit on the swing hanging on the front porch reading a book, sipping a glass of Merlot. She’d mow the lawn in her ratty tank top, cut-off jeans, and the MMA baseball cap he’d given her a few years ago. A small smile came to his lips.
Maybe being here wasn’t such a bad thing.
Warrior raced past him up the stone path to the front door, not even needing a leash to keep him headed in the right direction. The dog was probably excited about their new living arrangements. Tommy spoiled that dog rotten, but the one thing he didn’t have was a doggie door. Julie did, and even though her pup was miniscule in comparison to his, she’d bought a larger opening so Warrior could follow Lucy around since they spent so much time over here. Now his dog would be able to run around the spacious fenced in backyard whenever he wanted.
As he climbed the steps to the entry, he heard Lucy yapping and clawing at the door on the other side. When Julie unlocked the door, the white fur ball bolted through, and she scooped the Pekinese up in her arms.
“Someone’s glad to see you,” Tommy said.
She smiled. “She’s always happy to see her mommy. Aren’t you, sweetie?”
The tiny tongue flicked out across Julie’s jaw. Then Lucy noticed Warrior. She struggled against Julie’s hold, and when Julie placed her on the ground, the two dogs danced around, pawing playfully at each other. It always amazed him how well those two got along, considering the size difference. The way Warrior towered over Lucy never intimidated the little dog. She gave as good as she got.
Just like Julie.
As she started to walk into the house, he grabbed for her hand. Squeezing her fingers, he said, “Thank you…for letting me stay.”
Her eyes softened. “Anytime, Tommy. Really.”
After a quick squeeze of her own, she released his hand and waved him and the dogs inside.
When he crossed the threshold into the living room, he stopped. The house overwhelming him in a way it never had before, reminding him that he now owned nothing but the few shopping bags he gripped in his hands. The living room was completely decked out. A matching sage couch and loveseat with plush striped pillows sat before a brick fireplace. In the corner was a large flat-screen television sitting on a light oak entertainment center that matched the hardwood floors.
Pictures in black frames of her parents, sisters, and him hung on the wall. His heart tightened as it always did when he saw his picture included as part of her family.
Proof that he was just as important to her as she was to him. Thank God for that. He wouldn’t know what to do without this woman.
A gentle touch landed on his bicep. “You okay?”
He blinked and looked down at her. “My photos are all gone, too.”