She laughed. “I try. But seriously, Em, I feel so bad about the other night, especially after Travis told me what you actually heard. He called to talk to me about it. That has never happened,” she marveled. “Anyway, I don’t want to push you. Whatever happens between you two, I really want us to be friends.”
“Me too,” I assured her as we made ourselves comfortable on the couch.
“I just have to say—my brother can be a surly, closed-off guy a lot of the time, and I have never seen him like he’s been since he met you. I saw something different right away. I think he just didn’t know how to share something like that with us—not right away. He never talks about his personal life. And as for the quirky comment, Em, he loves that about you. Seriously. So do I. Though I think it takes one to know one.” She winked.
I laughed, feeling lighter already. “I get it. I just—that word doesn’t have a good connotation for me,” I shared glumly. “Let’s just say my being unique didn’t bode well growing up. I grew up feeling like I should be embarrassed to be myself. And overhearing your conversation, I felt that same way.”
She reached for my hand “I’m sorry. But honey, it’s not like you’re totally wacky or something. Why was this such a big thing growing up?”
“I know,” I agreed. “My parents weren’t the best. Anyway, I appreciate you talking to me,” I continued, not wanting to talk about it further. “I’ll think about what you said. I’m just still not sure Travis and I….” I trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.
She offered a knowing smile. “That’s fine. He’s sure enough for the both of you.”
She looked so sure, I almost believed her. That was the tricky thing about hope; it could mean everything you’d ever wanted—or it could devour you whole. I wasn’t sure which road I was headed for, but I found myself surprisingly willing to venture down the path regardless.