Planes, Trains, and All the Feels

AdvancepraiseforLivyHart’sPlanes,Trains,AndAllTheFeels
“Afunny,steamy,propulsiverompthatIneverwantedtoend.”
–AvaWilder,authorofHowToFakeItinHollywood
“LivyHart’swritingisbrimmingwithhumor,life,andheart…thenonstopadventurehadmesnort-laughingbeforeitmademecry.”
–AnitaKelly,authorofLove&OtherDisasters
“Aflawlessrom-comwithlaugh-out-loudchaos,scorchingsexualtension,andeverybigemotion—sometimesallonthesamepage.”
–JenDevon,authorofBendTowardtheSun
“Cinematiccomedygenius.”
AliciaThompson,nationalbestsellingauthorofLoveintheTimeofSerialKillers
“[A]spirited,romanticupdateontheclassicJohnHughes-pennedcomedy…featuringendearingprotagonists,humorousdetours,andplentyofheat.”
–KirkusReviewsTableofContents
Copyright
Dedication
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
ChapterTwenty-Seven
ChapterTwenty-Eight
ChapterTwenty-Nine
ChapterThirty
ChapterThirty-One
ChapterThirty-Two
ChapterThirty-Three
ChapterThirty-Four
ChapterThirty-Five
ChapterThirty-Six
ChapterThirty-Seven
ChapterThirty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor
IDuckingLoveYou,byKiraArcherThisbookisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsaretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,orpersons,livingordead,iscoincidental.
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https://entangledpublishing.com/books/planes-trains-and-all-the-feelsChapterOne
Cassidy
MymotherwilldisownmeifImissthisflight.
Dramatic?Yes.Butsoisshe.
IpromisedI’dbeatherdisposalallweektohelpwitheverypainstakingdetailofmysisterIsabelle’swedding.Mom’sstandardsforsocietygatheringssitaboutfivemillionfeetabovesealevel,andthisoneistheeventtorulethemall.Thebiggestdayofherbelovedoldestdaughter’slife.Herchancetoshineasmotherofthebride.
IfIscrewthisup…Let’sjustsayLosAngeleshathnofurylikeFrancescaBlissscorned.
ColdsweatbeadsabovemybrowasTrixietheToyotaandIdriveanothercircuitofCharlotteAirport’slong-termparkinglot.Avolatilemixofsnowandsleet—inspring,courtesyofamoodyMotherEarth—swirlsallaroundme,makingitdifficulttoseefartherthantenfeetinanydirection.
Myplantoappeaseonemother,thwartedbyanother.Delightful.
Everythingwould’vebeenfineifI’dmadeithereanhourago,asIintendedwhenIchosethisparticularnightflighttobookendanawesometeachingopportunity.ButhighwaytrafficmovedataglacialpaceformyentiredrivefromStop,Drop,andBop,andIwaslateleavingclass.ThedancestudentswereEnthusiasticwithacapitalE,andIcouldn’tverywellrunoutonthemwhentheywantedtokeepfilmingmychoreography.
Regardless,IcannotaffordtomissaflightthatIcouldbarelyaffordinthefirstplace.
Icirclethelotlikeaground-dwellinghawk,waitingformyopening.IfIdon’tfindaspotsoon,ImayabandonTrixieinthemiddleofanaisleandmakearunfortheshuttle.Eitherthat,ormowoverthemotorcyclethatdecideditwasokaytotakeuptwospots.Two,whenevenonefeelsliketoomuchspacetoaffordaglorifiedscooter.
NotthatTrixiecouldmowdownanything.Mycarisaboutastrustworthyasthepull-outmethodandthreatensdeatheverytimeItakehermorethanafewmiles.
Aglintofsilverattheveryendoftherowcatchesmyeyeasaminivanreversesoutofaspaceinaslowcrawl.Anendcapisabouttoopenup.Perfectioninparkingspotform.Icouldcrywithrelief.
Gazefixedonthevan,IzoomdowntheaisleasIbreathethroughmyjitters.Ineedtopacemyselfwiththesenerves.Travelingistheeasypartofgoinghome.IfledLosAngelestwoandahalfyearsagotoescapemymother’soverbearingorbit,yetthisweddingandmyroleasmaidofhonorhavesuckedmerightbackin.Butsinceit’smyjobtoensurethisisthechampagne-wishessoireeofIsabelle’sdreams,I’llendurethestressorswithasmile.
Sure,Ihavenightmaresaboutchocolatefountainsoverflowing,DJslosingplaylists,forgettingimportanttasks,andsociallymissteppingandembarrassingmyself.Asthefamilyblacksheep,I’mnostrangertomessingup.ButI’llkeepthosefearstomyselfandmakeitwork.I’llmakeatoast,eattoast,drinkuntilI’mtoasted—whatevermysisterwantsuntiltheeventwrapslateSunday.Iwanthertoloveherbigday.
Iactivatemyblinker,windthewheel,easethegas—
Outofnowhere,aJeepGrandWagoneerfliesaroundthecorner,insertingitselfintomyspotsoswiftlythevanhasn’tevenhadachancetoexittheaisle.AstrangledcryleavesmymouthasIpunchtheroofwithmyfist.Ashowerofprobablydust,possiblyasbestos,rainsontothecenterconsole.
Craponadry,saltlesscracker.Thiscan’tbehappening.ThatJeepdriverhadtohaveseenmeandmyblinker.An’82banana-yellowToyotaTerceldoesn’tgounnoticed.
Ishouldletitgoandkeepsearching.Anyotherday,Iwould.Butrightnow,Ineedthewin.
Assoonasthevanvacatesthearea,Ipullforwardandthrowmycarintoparkdirectlybehindtheall-terrainoffender.I’msoclosetotheJeep,theautomatictrunkalmosthitsmycarasitglidesopen.
Scramblingoutofthedriver’sseat,Igripthemirrortosteadymyself.BythetimeI’muprightandstaringoverthetopofmycar,theowneremerges.
Oh.
Thesoundcatchesinmythroat.
Mygazetracesthecutofhisfancycoatfirst.Ithitsjustabovethekneewhenhestraightenstofullheightandhasthedistinctsheenofawool-cashmereblend.He’sgloved,scarved,beanied,anddressedtothenines.Evenhisglassesarestylish,rimmedinblack,perchedonaperfectlysculptedface.
IfIwasinthebusinessofjudgingabookbyitscover,I’dcallhisensembleexcessivelycorporate,apartfromhisscarf.Somethingaboutthered-and-white-stripedknitwearhugginghisneck—howveryWhere’sWaldo?ofhim—whentherestofhimisdeckedoutininkyblacksuggestsahintofwhimsyandfreewill.Asin,hestaunchlyabidesbytherulesofcivilizedsociety,buthe’swillingtowalkonthewildsidejustthisoncetostealmyspot.
Thisisamanwhodoesnotneedawin,becausethoseclothesandthatprettyfacescreamforeverfirstplace.
Isnapshutmymouthandrecoverthethoughtsheknockedoutofmyhead.“Hi—uh,excuseme?”
Hefreezes,aposhdeerintheheadlights.
“Ihadmyblinkeron,andIwasjustabouttopullin.”Myvoiceisblownsugar,sweetandabreathawayfrombreaking.“Please,Ireallyneedthatspot.I’minahugehurryand—well,youseemlikeareasonable—”
“IpreferWhirlpool,butit’suptoyou.”Hecloseshisdoor.“You’retheonewhohastouseiteveryday.”
Ilookleft,right,andcenter.“Huh?”
“Doyoureallythinkthat’ssafe?Icanhaveitreplaced,”hecontinues,removingablacktotebagfromhistrunk.“We’reprobablylongoverdue.”
ConfusionripplesthroughmeasItrytomakesenseofhisstatement.AmIhavingastress-inducedmeltdown?Iwavemyungloved,now-freezinghandtomakesureIhavehisattentionassnowclingstomysleeves.“I’mnotsurewhatyou’retalkingabout,butIsaidyoutookmyspot.”IsmackthetopofTrixie.“AndI’dbegratefulifyou’dreconsider.I’vebeensearchingfortwentyminutesforaplacetopark,andI’mdesperatetomakemyflight.”
Heturnshishead,liftshisbeanie,andflashesmeanAirPod.
Mycheeksheat.“Iseeyou’reonacall,but—”
“Holdon,Sophie.”Heturnshisgazetome.“Ma’am,I’msorry,butIgotthisspotfairandsquare.AndI’mkindofinahurry.Istheresomethingelseyouneed?”
Iblanch.IfIlooklikeama’am,it’stimeforanightserum.Andhe’sallbutignoredmyplea.“I’minahurry,too!Thisismyspace,andyouknowit.Iusedmyblinker!”
“Ialsousedmyblinker.”HegesturesatTrixieashehitchesthetotebaghigheronhisshoulder.“Forwhatit’sworth,yourswasn’tblinking.Youshouldprobablygetthatlookedat.Forsafetypurposes.”
BeforeIcansomuchasopenmymouthtorespond,heremovesablacksuitcasefromhisimmaculatelycleantrunk,wheelsaround,andliftshiskeyfobintheair.TheJeeplockswithalouddouble-beepashestrutsoff,dragginghisluggagebehindhim.
MyheadtipsbackandIcursethesky.AsIdescendfurtherintopanic,redtaillightscutthroughthehaze.Anengineroarstolifetworowsover.
Someone’sleaving.
Ithrowmyselfbackinthedriver’sseatofmycarandslammydoorshut.Thelatchdoesn’tcatch,soIslamitthreemoretimesuntilitdoes.Theclockmocksmefromthedash,theonlypartoftheconsolenotbroken.7:26p.m.
Isoarthroughthelotatarecklessspeedandclaimthespace.
Parkthecar.Racetosecurity.Boardtheplane
Oneitemdown,twotogo.
Pullingmyluggagebehindme,Itreadcarefullytowardthecoveredshuttlestop,wishingIcouldsprint.Cursetheseheeledbootsandmydesirenottoflatlinemyentiredancecareerbyslippinginaslushpuddleandtwistingmyankle
Ashuttleisidling.Theheadlightssuggestasmuch,evenifIcanbarelyseethevehiclethroughthefog.Theblurryoutlineofapersoncomesintoview.
“Holdthedoor!”Icry,clompinglikeasnowshoersoIcanstrikethegroundwithevenfootfalls.Iflailmyfreearm.“Please,holdtheshuttle!”
ThatblurryoutlineofahumaniswearingtheWaldoscarf.Ilasermyfocus,imaginingitasastripedfinishline.
Thefabricwhipsoutofsightasheboards.
IpullchoppybreathsasIclosein.Myluggageslipsoutofmyhand,andIstumbletorecoverit.Waldomayhavescrewedmeoverwiththespot,butonlyatruejerkwouldleavesomeoneoutinthecold.He’lltellthedrivertowait,andpeopletendtolistentomenwholooklikethat
Theshuttleroarstolifeandpullsawayfromthecurb.Leavingmeintheslush-dust.
Somuchformywin.ChapterTwo
Luke
Thisairportsmellslikerubbingalcoholandimpendingdoom.
Idragmysuitcaseoversplotchylinoleum,stridingtowardthegate.Anecessaryevilonthepathtotheother,moreessentialevil:planes.
Ifthereisagreaterhellonearththanridingametaltubehurtlingthroughtheairatalmostsixhundredmilesperhour,sloshingaroundlikeiceatthebottomofacupattheslightestturbulence,Icannotthinkofit.Andwepayforthisprivilege.Infact,wespendasizablesumtoboardtheseflyingcaskets.
Ontheplusside:I’mhere.Imadeitwithsixminutestospare.Againstallodds—andbythatImeanalengthymeetingthatcould’vebeenanemailifIdidn’trespecttheclientsomuch—I’mcatchingthisflight.
Thesizeofthecrowdinsidethegateishovering-room-only,sojam-packedthatIhavetomaneuveritlikeanobstaclecourse.
IscanoverheadfortheCLTtoLAXsign0minutestoboarding.
Mystomachlurches.It’dbeniceifIcouldenjoythisfeatoftravelluck,anon-timedepartureinthemiddleofastorm.Instead,myimaginationconjuresupcreativescenariosinvolvingplanescollidingonahazyrunway,wingsrippedoffanddanglinglikehangnails.
Iclosemyeyesandexhale.Atleastonboard,I’llbeabletopurchasein-flightwifitodistractmyselfwiththeHopstetterfile.TheartofdisconnectingisnotaskillI’vemastered.Imaybetechnicallyoffthenextfourdays,butmywork-brainneverpowersdown.
Mysuitcaseplaysbumpercarswithsomeoneelse’sasImaneuvertowardthejetbridge.
Sophie’svoiceyanksmebackintoourconversation.“Areyoustilllistening,Luke?”
Right.Iwaslistening—am.Ilovemysister,butthewomanislongwindedoneverytopicexcepttheoneIcalledhertodiscuss:Mom.Instead,wespenttheentiretyoftheshuttleridetothisterminaldiscussingSophie’stemperamentalwashingmachine,andwhenIcalledherbackafterstrippingdownforTSAinthenameofsafety,shemanagedtosteertheconversationtoherpenchantforkillinghouseplants,blowingpastmyquestionsaboutthefamily.
“Yes,stilllistening.Thehouse…hashumidity,andthatmatters,because…leaves?”
“I’mgoingtoaccidentallydrownand/ordehydratethisfiddleleaffig.Itisfated.”
Irollmyeyes.She’sasinglemotherandanursewhoactivelykeepsmynieces,mother,andtonsofpatientsthrivingeverydaybuthasdecidedsheneedsmorethingstocarefor.“Ihavetoletyougo.Hanginthere,takeafewdeepbreaths,anddon’twateritwithbatteryacid.You’llbefine.”
“I’llgetrightonthatdeepbreathingthing,justassoonas—Mom,holdon.Youalreadydidyourinsulin,remember?”Sophieexhales,andthecracklingisloudinmyear.“I’llcallyouafterIputMomandthegirlstobed.Havefunatwork.”
AfteragoodbyeI’mnotsuresheheard,ItapmyAirPod.Littledoessheknow,I’mnotenroutetoaworkconferenceasIledhertobelieve.Bythetimeshewould’vecalledmebackthisevening,I’llalreadybeinBakersfield,listeningtoherplantsagainperson.
FollowingweeksofSophieavoidingquestionsaboutMom,myinstinctstellmeit’stimeforanimpromptuvisithometomakesureeverythingisokay.AndtoconsumeasmanySalsaShackTacosashumanlypossiblewithmybestandonlyfriend,WillMcClary,butmostlythefamilystuff.
MysisterandIhaveanunspokenagreement.Isendmoney,andshespendsittokeepMomfromtorpedoingherownlife.Whetherit’sbills,medicine,orshinydistractionsthatkeepheroutoftrouble—Isendacheck,andshehandlestheday-to-day.Sophie’sbootsontheground,dealingwiththecaretaking.I’mLukeintheoffice,thirteenhoursaday
Thesystemworkswellenough.Itallowsmetokeepmyjobworkingformymentor-turned-boss,Rogelio,themanIowemycareerto;enablesSophietopayforherdaughters’privateschoolandhavesomefinancialbreathingroom;andgivesMomnearlyfull-timecare.AndSophie’saroundtoheadoffMom’svodkabendersbeforetheygainsteam.Awin-win-win.
Mostly.Livingtwothousandmilesawayisnotwithoutitschallenges.
SweatgathersbeneathmycollarasIduckmyheadtoentertheplane.It’slikesteppingthroughaportaltoadifferentdimensionwhereeveryobjectissmallanddistinctlyforeboding.
Istowmycoatandbelongingsoverheadandplopdownin18D.Aftertwomoreupsanddownstoletmyseatmatesboard,IscanmydownloadedplaylistsforsomethingthatwilldistractmeuntilI’vecalmeddownorcangetoutmylaptop—whichevercomesfirst.BythetimeI’vesettledandmybloodpressurehassomewhatregulated,myAirPodsbeepfourpitifulbeeps.
Rustlingthecasefrommypocket,Iflickopenthelid.Myphonescreenlightsuptoinformmethechargingcaseisalsodead.
Withapangofmisery,IblinkuptocheckmyseatbackforaUSBoutlet.
Myattentionisstolenbyawomanhustlingontotheplane,clutchingherchestlikeshejustcompletedthetwenty-sixthmileofamarathon.Herheavystepsecho,alertingtheentirecabintoherpresence.Shecyclonesthroughfirstclass,clumsilydragginghersuitcasedowntheaisle,apologizingtoeachofthefivepeopleshebumpsalongtheway.
ItuckmyelbowsandlegsfirmlyinmyrowandreturntomyUSBhunt,craningmynecktocheckthenooksofmyarmrests.Nooutlets.Thisplanemustbeold.
AsI’mrackingmybrainforcorrelationstatisticsaboutaircraftageandsafetyoutcomes,Iglanceupandcatchaneyefulofassatcloserange.
Jesus
Thelatearrivalisbentoveranddiggingaroundhersuitcase.Ifshe’sawaresheispracticallysittingonmyface,sheshowsnosignsofit.
Shesnapsup,granolabarinhand.“Victory!”
Severalpeoplepeerherwayasshetossesitontheemptyseat.
Herlong,shinyhaircascadesdownherbackasshethenattemptstorearrangethesuitcasesalreadypositionedintheoverheadbinaboveherrow.
Wow
I’masuckerfortheeffortlesssexinessofcurve-huggingjeans,andthiswomaniswearingtheabsolutehelloutofthem.Hershirtisabright,shimmerywhitethatmakesherpaleskinlooktan.Andthathair—
Wait
Asquicklyastheappreciationforherstirs,itdisappearswhenIplacethedistinctiveredcolor.Ialmostdidn’trecognizehernowthatshe’slosthercoatandisn’tyellingoverthetopoftheworld’syellowestcar,butit’sdefinitelyher
Thewomanfromtheparkinglot.
Withthememoriesofthatbizarreinteractionfreshinmybrain,Ifilterherappearancethroughthequestionablepersonalitylens.
Nope.Stillgorgeous.
Whenshefailstocreatespaceforherownluggagebyjostlingstrangers’suitcases,sheturnsaroundtochecktheotheroverheadbin.Theonethatstretchesovermyrow.
Unfortunately,thefrontofherisjustasalluringastheback.Isnagonherprettymouth,justlikeIdidwhenshewastalkingtomeintheparkinglot.Thecombinationofherredhair,whiteshirt,andbluejeansunlocksanassociationinmybrainShelookslikeoneofthoseRocketPopsmyneighbors’parentsalwaysusedtostockintheiroutsidefreezer.Red,white,andblue.Hadshenotaccostedmeearlier,Imightthinkshe’sjustassweet.
Shehoistshersuitcaseofftheground.Herbodyswaysdangerously,butshequicklyrightsherbalanceandthrustsittowardthebin.Themusclesinherarmquiverasshehuffsandpuffsunderherbreath.“Get—in—there—dangit.”
Ilaunchoutofmyseatandcatchherluggagebeforeitknocksherout.“Easythere.”
Shetightensherholdonthehardshell.“Igotit.”
Itteeterssideways,puttingthedudeintheseatinfrontofmeatrisk.
Iallbutstealitfromhergriptoturnitonitsside.Inthisposition,itslidesineasily.
Herfacetiltsup,andhergazefindsmine.Recognitionflickersinhereyes.
Shescowls.Damn,doessheever.Reallygivesitherall,pursingherlipsandnarrowinghereyes.“Oh.”
Icockmyheadsideways.“Ohwhat?”
“Nowyouwanttobehelpful.Wherewasthisenergyinthelot?”
Ah.Apparentlyshe’sclingingtoherparkinglotvendetta.Buthonestly,thescowlisunfounded.Iprobablysavedherlifebackthere.Becauseofme,she’llgetherblinkerchecked,sparingheranaccidentdowntheroad.
Iofferheratightsmile.“Excusemefortryingtosaveyoufromasuitcaseconcussion.Thatthingisahazard.Softluggageissafer.”
“Anduglier.Iwastotallyhandlingit,bytheway.”
Irritationseepsintomytone.Ibackintomyrowwithmyhandsraised.“Fine.Mymistake.”
“Whyareyouannoyed?Youtookmyspotandthenproceededtoleavemeoutinthecold.”
Irapid-fireblink,tryingtorecalibrate.“What?Iexplainedthistoyouinthelot,ma’am—”
“Notma’am,”shesplutters,leaningevenfurtherintomyalreadylimitedpersonalspace.“That’salifelevelIhaven’tunlocked.MynameisCassidy—”
“—pleasuretomeetyou,I’mLuke—”
“—andnotonlydidyoucutoffmycar,youdidn’tholdthedoor.Ialmostmissedthisflight.”
Igrappleforsomesemblanceofunderstanding.“Holdthedoor?”
“Ifyou’llbothhaveaseat,”asharpvoicesaysfrombehindme,“I’mgoingtoclosethebinsfortakeoff.”
RocketPop—Cassidy—nearlywhacksmewiththeoverstuffedpurseslungoverhershoulderasshejerksitforward.Thethingisabludgeoningweaponandburstingattheseams.Shefreestwoplasticcardsfromitsstuffeddepths,slidestheminherpocket,andstowsthebagoverhead.
Imovesidewaysintomyrowtolettheflightattendantdoherjob.Cassidyplopsdownin17C,anaisleseatontheoppositeside,onerowahead.
Shepivotsinherseattofaceme.“Whenyouboardedtheshuttle,Iwasbehindyou,yellingforyoutoholdit.Andyou,apparently,decideditwasn’tworthsayingsomethingtothedriver.ProbablybecauseIyelledatyouinthelot,which—yeah,Iwasfrustrated.Iinterruptedyourcall.I’msorry.ButIthoughtsurelyyouwouldn’tleaveagirloutinthecold.GuessIwaswrong.”
Wow.Withaseriesofleapsthatlarge,shecould’velong-jumpedthedistancetotheterminal.Firekindleslowinmygut.“Whoa.Let’stakeaboutthreegiantstepsback.Ididn’thearyou.Orseeyoucoming.”
“Ifindithardtobelieveyoudidn’thearme.Iwasyelling.”
“It’sthetruth.It’swindy,andIwasinthemiddleofacall.MyAirPodsdoaprettygoodjobcancelingnoise.Thiswasnotanintentionalslight.Doyoualwaysturnmisunderstandingsintocharacterassassinations,oristhisaspecialoccasion?”
“It’snotacharacterassassinationagainstyoupersonally.Ijustknowyourtype.”
Alaughthreatenstospillout.I’veknownUberdriverslongerthanthisgirl,andshe’sabouttospeculateonwhattypeofpersonIam.
Andyet,curiosityislikeahotpokeragainstmytongue.“Andwhat’smytype,exactly?”
Thewomandirectlyacrosstheaislefromme—theseatbehindCassidy—overtlylistenstothisexchange,hergazeping-pongingbetweenus.
Cassidy,however,doesn’tseemtonoticeanyotherhumansontheplaneexist.Hersightsaresetonme,andmealone.“Thetypethatthinkstheyaresuperimportantandthateveryoneshouldaccommodatethem.Peoplewhotakewhattheywant.”
“Andwhereareyougettingthatfrom?”
Hereyes—glaciallyblueandjustascold—rakemeupanddownasshetwistsfurtherinherseat.“Well,let’ssee.Expensivewoolandcashmerecoat,possiblyItalian,indicatingyouhaveanimportantjoband/orsociallifeandcan’triskshowingupsomewherelateormessy.TherestofyoulookslikeyoucalledupMr.J.Crewandaskedwhathewasgoingtoweartothemergermeetingsoyouwouldn’tmatchbutthensaid,Screwit,I’llwearthat,too.You’reprobablysomeone’sboss,usedtopeopledoingwhatyouwant,andgoodateverything.”
Sherlockhasnothingonthiswoman.Shecouldteachamasterclassonhowtodrawelaborateconclusionsoutofthinair.Imayhavecommittedherjeans—and,fine,herexceptionalass—tomemory,butherlevelofobservationisonanotherlevel.Andit’sallsoepicallywrongIalmostwanttocorrecther.Butshedoesn’tneedtoknowthiscoatwasagiftfromRogeliowhenItookthejobinNorthCarolina,thatmysociallifeleavesmuchtobedesired,orthatI’mballs-deepinatwenty-gamebasketballlosingstreakagainstWill—andI’lllikelychalkupanotherLwhileI’mhomethisweek.
Soinstead,Iperchmyelbowsonmythighsandofferheraforcedsmile.“Totally.Youpeggedme.I’mtheCEOofGoogle.Iholdseveralworldrecords.AndofcourseIhavesomewheretobe,asdoyou.We’reonaplane.Youcancastjudgmentonmyclothesandbehaviorallyouwant.Itdoesn’tchangethefactthattheshuttlethingwasunintentional.”
Thefireinhereyesseemstoextinguish,leavingsomethingasheninitsplace.Butsheletsoutalittlehmph.“IfyouwereCEOofGoogle,you’dtakeaprivateplane.”
“IfIwereCEOofGoogle,I’dhaveusedmycapitaltoinventateleportationdevice.Happyflying,Cassidy.”
IshovemydeadAirPodsbackintomyearsandsettleintomyseat,hopingshetakesthehint.IfIhavetospeaktoCassidyagain,it’llbetoosoon.ChapterThree
Cassidy
Castjudgmentallyouwant…
Luke’sdeep,rumblyvoiceplaysinmyhead,continuingtofrothmyirritation
Asifit’ssucharidiculousthingtoassumehe’dhearmeholleringacrossaparkinglotorthathehasanimportantjobbasedonhowhedresses.Sueme.Heck,it’sprobablyhisjobtosueme.
Ifreemyphonefrommypocketandwriggletogetcomfortable.LoftyaspirationsinthisseatwithlesspaddingthanaVictoria’sSecretbra.I’mreadyforastiffdrink,orheck,aflaccidone,butI’llsettleforafamiliarfacetosmooththeroughedgesofmymood.
MyroommateBerkeleyanswersmyFaceTimeonthefirstring.
“Missmealready,Blossom?”She’scurledupinherbed,mycorgiElvisnestledinthecrookofherarm.Pillowsofeveryshapeandcolorsurroundher,averitablerainbowofpoofsinlieuofaheadboard.Herdarkcurlsstarklycontrastthebackdropofherbutteryellowwall.
“Whereareyourheadphones?”Shelowershervoicetoawhisperandbringsthephonerightuptoherface.Aggressivelysuspiciousofmenafterherwhirlwinddivorce,Berkeleyassumesmyeveryphonecallisacryforhelp,inwhichI’mtrappedinanuncomfortablesituationwithadude.“Issomethingwrong?Ican’tcomerescueyouofftheplane,butI’mhappytoputanytravelersintheirplaceifyoupassthephone.”
Myprettylittlecherubofabestfriend,withherporcelaincomplexionandinnocentblueeyes,keepshersharpestarrowsonthetipofhertongue.She’snotbluffingwhenshesaysshe’llputsomeoneintheirplace.Iwarmattheoffer,evenifit’swhollyunnecessary.
Ipeeratmyseatmate,possiblyanoctogenarian,whoisalreadysnoozingwithhischintohischest.“Nah,I’msafe.IcalledbecauseIforgotmyheadphones,alongwithseveralotherthings.I’mgoingtotextyoualistofthingstograbbeforeyouflyoutifyou’vegotroominyoursuitcase.”
“Sure.NopromisesI’llbeabletofindanythinginyourdisasterheapofabedroom,though.Youneedshelves.Rubbermaids.Ashoepurge.Someonetothrowawayanybeautyproductolderthanoneyear.Icanhelpyou.”
Avoiceblaresthroughtheplane’sspeakers.“Ladiesandgentlemen,onbehalfofthecrew,Iaskthatyoupleasedirectyourattentiontotheflightattendantsaswereviewoursafetyprocedures—”
Ilowermyvoiceandslumpdowninmyseat.“Youlovesnoopingthroughmydisasterheap.Halfyourclotheswereco-optedfromthatheap.”
“We’vesaidheaptoomanytimes.Thewordhaslostallmeaning.”
“Also,don’tforgetwe’veswitchedElvis’sfood.Makesurehe’sgettingthearthritisblend,andsendthatbagwithhimtothesitter.How’shedoing?”
Shesqueezesmyblack-and-whitebabyagainstherside.Fondnessinfiltrateshertone.“Lil’Kingislivinghisbestlife,Iassureyou.Areyoudrinkingyet?You’llneedenoughalcoholtoturnyourbodyintoafurnaceinpreparationforMommyDearest’scoldembrace.Foralightweightlikeyou,twodrinks.”
Theflightattendantsstridetothefrontofthecabinwiththeirdemonstrationseatbeltsinhandandgetonwiththeirin-case-of-disasterspeech.
IshootBerkeleyathumbs-up.“Threedrinksitis.”
“Youanimal.You’llbedancingintheaisles.”
“Ibettergo.We’retaxiing,andIdon’twantmyphonecalltomaketheplanemalfunctionorsomething.Doesthatactuallyhappeninreallife?”
Berkeleywavesoffmymalfunctionconcerns.“Planesflythemselves,Cass.Nothingyoudowouldmakealickofdifference.”
“Yeah,probably.Allright,enjoytheemptyapartmenttonight.Whydon’tyougoonadateorsomething?”
I’mprettysureI’mhearingherlaughboththroughthephoneandinreallife,allthewayfromAsheville.“Youdon’tgetenoughcreditforyourbangingsenseofhumor.”
“It’snevertoolatetostartcomplimentingmeonnewthings,”Iwhisper.“Untiltomorrow,Buttercup.”
“Can’twait.”
Agrinsplitsmyface.Effectivelysoothed,Ihangupandswitchmyphonetoairplanemode.
BerkeleywillbejoiningmeinCaliforniatomorrow,myweddingplus-oneandhumanMombuffer.IfFrancescaBlisswantstolayintome,she’llhavetodoitaroundtheworld’smostardentlysupportivefriend.
IopenmyNotesapp.TimetotakeinventoryonwhatimmediateerrandsawaitmeinWestlake.AKA,thesharedto-doliststartedbyIsabellemonthsago.
IwinceasIscroll.Wasitthislongthismorning?
Steammysatinhoneymoonpajamas.
Seeifit’stoolatetochangemybouquettoalessbouquet-ybouquet.
BridesmaidsgiftsforNatalia,Summer,andReese.
ChecktheefficacyofanIUDinahottub.
I’dbetmyleastvitalappendagethatitemwasn’tonthelistlastIchecked.NorwaspickuplubefromCVS.Shemust’veupdatedittoday.Andperhapscouldusesomequalitytimewithherfiancé.
Iskimthetwentyotheritemsandlandononetowardthetop.
WednesdaySpaday—pedicures,manicuresandfacialsforeightpeople.
Ohcrap.Icompletelyforgottobookthat.I’llhavetocallLushandLathertomorrowmorningwhentheyopenandbegthemtofitthewholegroupin.Myoddsaren’tgoodwithitbeingsolastminute,butthefateofeveryone’shoovesandtalonsrestsonmyshoulders.
IcanalreadyhearMom’sdisappointedcommentary.Iwould’vebookeditmyselfifyou’dexpressedanissue.I’llhavetopullstringsandgetusareservationsomewhereelse,atleastforyoursister.Obviously.
IfIdon’tfixit,it’llbeanotherCassidyfailforthebooks:MaidofHonoredition.
Beingasisterislikebeingpartofalifelongcontestyoudidn’twillfullyenter.Mymotherwieldsthescorecard.Isabelleisawhip-smartsurferblondewhoturnseveryheadandintrigueseverymanwithherairofconfidence.SouthernCalifornia’sanswertoroyalty.Mom’sbelovedtrophychild.Sportyenoughtocatchawave,butprimenoughtotaketothekindofschmoozylawyereventsherfiancéMikaelattendsregularly.SheworkswiththeTurtleIslandRestorationNetworktorescueseaturtles.
Meanwhile,I’madancerwithnointerestindeskjobswhocyclesbetweenoversharingmyfeelingsandwithholdingthemuntilIimplode.Alwaysinmotion.SouthernCalifornia’sanswertoaquestionnooneasked.Mom’sperpetualfixer-upper.Idovolunteer,butit’sintheformoffreedanceclassesatthecommunitycenterforkidswhocan’taffordprivatestudios.I’mnoseaturtlesavior.
IsabellewasJuniorMissCalifornia.IwasJuniorMintsstuckinmyteethatthemovietheater.Thecomicrelief.Frivolous.Longstoryshort,she’sthewinner.Idon’tbegrudgeherthat,butIamsotiredofbeingcomparedtoher.Itwasannoyingatagesten,fifteen,andtwenty.Thefactthatit’shappeningattwenty-sixmakesmestabby.Ifanything,it’sworsenow,becausewe’reallreapingtherewardsandconsequencesofouradultchoices.Everythingisanelaboratetest.MymotherexamineseverythingIdoordon’tdobasedonwhatIsabelle’sdoneorhasn’tdone.Momalreadyhadtheperfectdaughter,andsometimesIwonderwhyshebotheredtohaveanotheratall
Justoneweek.I’llknowpeaceagainassoonasI’mbackinAsheville,mysafehaven.
Thefirsthourandahalfoftheflightisbumpy.IwatchtheentiretyofBigHero6onachild’scrustytabletthroughtheseatcracksinfrontofmeasIwhite-knucklemyJackandCoke,acravingIonlyseemtohaveonplanes.NormallyI’mavodka-sodagirl,butit’slikeassoonasacabinpressurizes,myresponseisPavlovianandIhavetohavethissweet,syrupyconcoction.
AsIsipwhatremains,thebulkybeveragecartscootstoastopnexttomyrow,flankedbytwoflightattendants.Perfecttiming.
Iofferupmylicenseandcreditcardagain.“I’dloveanotherJackandCoke,please.”
Sheraisesaslenderfinger.“NoneedfortheIDthistime.Irememberyou.Infact”—sherustlesupatinybottle—“Isetthisasideforyou,specifically.It’sourlastone.”
Myhearttap-dancesatthegestureasIshovemyIDbackinmypocket,waitingforhertorunmycreditcard.IshouldprobablyexaminewhybeingpinpointedasTHEJackDanielsdrinkeronboardapacked747delightsme,butIwelcomethissurgeofappreciationforAtlasAirlines.Thestaffisfriendlyandtheflighttookoffontime,despitethestorm.UnlikesomeotherairlinesdepartingCLT.Afewinchesofsnowaren’tgoingtogroundmyplane,nomatterwhattheseasonalmoviemultiversehastosay.ImaynotbethrilledaboutwhereI’mgoing,butatleastIcanbecomfortable—
“Thisisyourcaptainspeaking.”Thefirmvoicecutswithclaritythroughthenoiseoftheplane.“Ourwindshieldhasdevelopedacrack,andoutofanabundanceofcaution,we’vemadethedecisiontodiverttoJoplinRegionalAirport.Thisisjustprecautionary.Whiletheissueisminor,yoursafetyisourhighestconcern.Pleaselistentoyourflightattendantsastheypreparethecabin.”
Isitupstraight,joiningthethrongsofpeoplecraningtheirheadstowardthecockpit.It’snotasthoughwecanseethewindshield,butweallseemtohavethesameinstinctualimpulsetolookanyway.
Diverting.Whatamassive,time-consumingbummer
Theattendant’sfacecyclesfromsurprisetodeterminationinthespanofasecond.Shehandsmemycardbeforehightailingitdowntheaislewiththesqueakycartintow.
Ifnotforthewordprecautionary,I’dbesweatingthis.Mybody,withoutmypermission,releasesatinyburstofadrenaline.Justincase.
“Thewindshieldcracked?”Luke’svoicehitsmyearasanemptyplasticcuplandsonthegroundnexttome.“That’snotnormal.Orminor.”
Swivelingatthesound,Icatchthetailendofhimscramblingtopluckthecupfromtheaisle.Hisfaceisdrainedofcolorwhenhesitsbackup.Hecrossesanduncrosseshisarms.Twice.
Itwistfurther,curiositypiqued.“Yougood,Waldo?”
“What?”Hisgazedartsbetweenmeandthefrontoftheplaneashecrushesthecupinhisfist.“Waldo?”
“Thestripesonthatscarfyouwerewearingbefore.Intheparkinglot.Redandwhite?Darnit,ifyouhavetoexplainajoke,itstopsbeingfunny.”
“Oh.Igetit.”Allofhisearlieredgeisgone.Hisvoiceishollow,andI’malmostcertainthejaggedplasticmustbecuttingintohispalmwiththewayhe’ssqueezingit.
Theswoopingsensationofadroppingrollercoastergripsmybodyaswedescend
Luke’shandfliestohisarmrest.Hescrewshiseyesshut.“Iflyconstantly.Thisdoesn’thappen.Theywantyoutothinkit’saprecaution,butifitwas,wewouldn’tbefalling.”
“Thisishowlandingalwaysfeels,isn’tit?Thismaybefasterthanusual,sure,butwe’llbefine—”
“Howwouldyouknow?”hesnaps.“Youwereonthephonewhiletheflightattendantstaughtushownottodie!”
“Excuseme.Thatwasaveryimportantphonecall.”Theotherhalfofmycomebackformsinmyhead,readyfordeployment,buteverythingclicksintoplaceasIlaserinonhisarmrestdeathgrip,bobbingleg,colorlessface,andclenchedjaw.
Lukeisterrified.
“Hey…”Irackmybrainforsomethingtoeasethetensioninhisface.“I’vebeenonalotofplanes.It’sgoingtobeokay.”
Hislipspullintoastubbornlineandhiseyesstayfirmlyshut.
Themanneedsadistraction.
“Luke,”Isaygently.“Howlonghaveweknowneachother?”
“Abouttwelveseconds.”
“Andinthattime,haveIeverliedtoyou?”
Hecracksopenaneye.“Iwouldn’tknow,wouldI?”
Istiflealaugh.“Lookatme.”
Hesighsbutblinksmeintofocus.
“Inlesstimethanitprobablytakesyoutostyleyourhair,we’llbeontheground.”
“Idon’tstyleit.It’salwayslikethis.”
Theplanelosesaltitudeinalurch.Iclutchmyarmrestasafewpeoplegruntindispleasure.
“Andwhenwe’reonthegroundyoucan”—IgrappleforsomethingasdreadflaresinLuke’seyes—“dosomethingfun.What’syourfavoritehobby?”
Afterabeatofsilence,hisanswercomesoutstrained.“Running.”
Eyinghisleanform,Iam0percentshockedbythisrevelation.“Yeah?”
“Yes,”heconfirmswithanoteofcertainty.
“Okaythen.Soonyou’llhaveaccesstoalltheconcreteandgrassyoucanimagine.Theworldisyourtreadmill.Thinkaboutthat.Visualizefindingyourfavoritepairofsocksinapileofcleanlaundry,lacingupyourbestsneakers,andhittingthegroundinasteadyrhythm.”
Hisfistunclenchesandheblinksdownatthebrokenplasticinhispalm.Hispoutylipspartlikehe’sfinallyexhaling.“That’s…notaterribleidea.”
Ismile.“Iacceptyourpraise.”
Hislaughismoreofahackingburstofair,butithappens.
Ifaceforward,satisfiedthathe’scalmeddown.
Asweapproachthelanding—manypeople’sleastfavoritepartofflying,evenundernormalcircumstances—Icanonlyhopehestaysthatway.ChapterFour
Luke
We’redown.Everycellinmybodyisstillonhighfuckingalert,butwe’reontheground,wherehumansbelong.
Andwiththephrase“ourwindshieldhasdevelopedacrack”ricochetingaroundmybrain,Isureasfuckwon’tbeupagainanytimesoon.ThisexactreasoniswhyIprefergroundtravel.Mypulsecan’tseemtorecover,poundingafranticrhythm.
Thatpilot’svoicewashauntinglycalm,too.Spontaneouslycrackedaircraft.Mondays,amIright?
Ihaven’tstoppedsweatinginthetwenty-sevenminutesittooktogetontheground.IfthishadgonethewayIfeared,I’dbeheadingtotheafterlifeknowingthelastrealcommunicationIhadwithsomeonewaswithajudgmentalwomanwhofloutssafetybriefings.
IglanceatCassidy,zeroinginonthehairspillingdownherarm.
It’spossibleshe’snotasjudgmentalasIinitiallythought.Shehelpedmethroughmypanicattackwithoutmissingabeat,andatnopointdidIfeelshewashecklingmeoverit.
Itwas…nice
Istandslowlywhenit’stimetodeplanesoIdon’taccidentallybangmyskullontheoverheadcompartment.Wefunnelthroughtheplanedoor,severalpeoplepausingatthecockpittoharassthecrewwithquestionsthey’vealreadyanswered.
Theairlinewillsecureanotherplane,butit’snotgoingtohappentonight
Thisisasmall,regionalairportwithoutmanyresources.
Wewillcommunicateanyupdatesviatextandemail.
IpullupGoogle,andafteradancewiththespinningwheelofinternetdeath,IlocateJoplin’sWikipediapage.Funfactaboutthisplace:therearenofunfacts.Wearenowhere.ItspopulationoffiftythousandlookslikeastatisticalblipcomparedtoLosAngeles’sfourmillion.
Distractedbymyphone,Icrashintothebackofsomeonewhohasdecidedtocometoanabruptstoponthejetbridge.
Cassidystumblesbutcatchesherbalancewithsmoothease.Shethrowsabotheredlookoverhershoulderthatmorphsintoaflatsmirkwhensheclocksthatit’sme.
“AndhereIthoughtweweregettingalong,”shequipsasshewrestlesherphoneoutofherpocket.“Twostepsforward…”
“Youstoppedwalking.That’szerostepsforward.”
Ignoringthis,shepressesherphonetoherear.“Isabelle?Hello?”
Iskirtsidewaystobypassher,tryingandfailingtoputahealthydistancebetweenmeandhersecondloudcalloftheevening,thefirstbeinganactualFaceTimeonacrowdedplane.
Theairisn’texactlyfreshwhenweentertheairport,butIgulpitdownanywayasIzippastthecrowdformingatbaggageclaimandproceedstraighttotherentalcardesk.Icaneasilydoatwenty-three-hourdriveinadayandahalfwithasmallrestsomewherealongthewayifitmeansgettingthisshowontheroad.
Initially,Iplannedtousetomorrowtogetstartedonoddjobsaroundmysister’shouse.Sophiemayobject,butherlimitedfreetimebelongstoherdaughters,OliveandAva.Sheshouldn’thavetoworryaboutrenovationsormaintenanceahousebuiltin1981—ourchildhoodhome,turnedintothefamilycompound—needs.Isortoflovefiguringouthowtofixthings,andhiringsomeonetodosomethingIcantheoreticallydomyselfwhileI’mthereseemssilly.Especiallysincetheonethingmydadleft,inadditiontofamily,wasanexpensivesetoftools.
Thehousemaybeold,butBakersfieldishome.MomgotthehouseinthedivorceinexchangeforDadgainingthefreedomtopretendnoneofuseverhappened.
Irotatemyshoulders,stretchoutmyneck,andapproachtheemptycarrentalcounter.Noline,noclerk.TheonlysignoflifeisaPost-itfixedtothebackofacomputermonitor.
Reopensatninea.m.
Dammitall.
Itiltmywrist.It’sbarelytenp.m.FrustrationmountsinmythroatasIshufflebacktowardthegate.Mostpeoplehavetetheredthemselvestothespacearoundtheflightattendant’sdesk,probablyhopingnewswillreachthemfirstbyosmosis.
Ittakesafewminutestogetthelayoftheland.Thegateiscircular,withonlytwoboardingareasthatfeedoffit.Floor-to-ceilingwindowsgiveaviewofthenightskyandrunway.Twodesignatedsittingareasanchorthespace,withtworowsofchairseach—thekindwitharmreststhatdon’tliftsoyouareforcedtosituprightlikeyou’regettingyourbloodpressuretaken.Onesetofvendingmachinessitsbetweenasetofbathrooms.
Sleepinginanairportisnotonmybucketlist.
Afterafrustratinginternetsearch,IrefreshthewebsiteoftheonlyhotelIcanfindwithintwentyminutesofthisone-room-schoolhouseofanairport.TheHomewoodSuites,approximatelynineteenminutesaway.
Fullybooked.
Ofcourseit’sfull.Somewherebetweenzeroandonehundredfourteenpeopletriedtobookintheminutessincewelanded.I’msuresomesawthewritingonthewallandhadthegoodsensetobookbeforeweevengotofftheplane.
MaybeanAirbnb?
Severalpeoplehavealreadycollapsedintochairs,whileotherspacearound,stabbingattheirphoneswithimpatientfingers.
“There’snothinganywhere.Thisairportisnowagiantdormroom.”
Ifreezemomentarilyatthesing-songyvoiceandthenslowlyliftmygazefrommyphone.
Cassidy.
Spinninghercolorfulsuitcaseinacircleonits360-degreewheels.Betweenthis,ourconfrontations,andherloudcalls,I’mgettingthedistinctimpressionshe’scompelledtoshareherthoughtsatalltimeswithanyonewhowilllisten.
“I’vetalkedtosixpeoplealready,andnoonecanfindasingleplacetostay.”Shetoyswiththehemofhershirt,rollingitbetweenherfingers.Glancingoverhershoulderatthewindowedwall,hervoicetakesonaresignededge.“Goingtohavetocampheretonight,I’mthinking.”
Nightmarefuel.
Iwavethisoff.“Bettheydidn’ttryAirbnbsorVrbos.”
Shepeersatourfellowtravelers.“I’mprettysurethefleetofupper-middle-classdadsinSperrysandkhakishortsknowathingortwoaboutvacationlodging.”
“There’sgottobesomething.”
Atinysnort-laughleaveshermouth.Shecrossesherarmsandpopsherhip.“Okay.I’msureyou’recorrect,then.Goaheadandcheck.”
Inarrowmyeyes.It’slikeshe’shappyaboutbeingstranded.“Iwill,thanks.”
Shedoesn’ttakethecuetowalkaway,juststaresatmewithblueeyesthattoethelinebetweeninnocentandchallenging.
NoAirbnbspopupwhenItypeinJoplin’szipcode.NordoanyVrborentals.
Cassidy’sstareisaweighted,tangiblethingasItryotherneighboringzipcodes.TheclosestbigcityisSpringfield,overanhouraway.Idon’tevenknowhowI’dgetthere.
IopenUberonmyphone.NocarspopuponscreenwhenIrefresh.Oneoftworeasonsislikely:they’rewiththeluckyfewhightailingittotheHomewoodSuites,ortheydon’texist.
I’dpaytopdollarforonetodrivemetoacarrentalplaceiftherewasoneremotelyclosebythatwasopen.
“Anyluck?”Thetinyliftofherlipsfeelslikeanattack.
Ishovemyphoneinmypocketandhitherwithanevenbiggergrin.“Youknowwhat?IthinkI’dprefertostayheretonight.ThatwayI’mfirstinlinewhenthecarrentaldeskopens.”
“See?Toldyoutherewerenootheroptions.”Shewinks,anditburnsthroughme.
“Isthisyourfirsttimebeingright?Youmightconsiderlessgloatingnexttime.You’llgetthehangofit.”
Hermouthopens,andshetiltsherheadtotheside.
Iofferaperfunctorynodanddragmysuitcaseawayfromherandherinfuriatingsmugness.
Theseatsaremostlytaken.They’llbefullyoccupiedwhenpeoplegiveupontheideathatthere’sanywheretoescapeto.Ilocateanopenchairandmovetowardit,butawomanclosesinfromanotherdirection.Haltinginmytracks,Iwaveheron.
Cassidywouldbeproud.
Thegroundisfine.Ispotawallwithanopenoutlet.Withampleelectricityatmydisposal,I’llworkallnight.Hell,I’vedoneitbefore.Ithrowmycoatonthegroundanduseitasasspaddingbeforeslidingdownthewall.Betweenthis,thechiaenergygelIpacked,andthevendingmachineacrossthegate,Iwon’twitherawayforanight.
…
I’mafewhoursintorunningdataforoneofmynewestclients,legscrampingfromsittingcrossleggedonthegroundwithoutabreakforsolong,whenaflickerofwhitecatchesmyeye.
Cassidy’sshimmeryshirt.
Hereyesareclosedandshe’sheldupbythewindowedwall.Hercellphoneliesonthegroundnexttoheropenpalm,asifitfellout,andherchinisagainstherchest.She’sshiveringsovisiblyIcanmakeitoutfromallthewayoverhere.
Iglanceathersuitcase.Surelyshehassomethingintheretocoverupwithbeforeshefreezestodeathinthisfrigidholdingtank?
Returningtomycomputer,IjabthetrackpadafewtimesastheStarWarsscoreswellsinmyears.Typically,theauralembraceofJohnWilliamssoundtrackslullsmeintoahypnoticstateofproductivity.
ExceptnowI’mdistracted.
Thisisdecidedlynotmyproblem.ButdammitifIdon’twishIhadatennisballIcouldchuckathersoshe’dwakeupandgrabasweater.
Myphonelightsup.Will’sresponsetomyearliertextinforminghimI’llbehomefortheweek.
I’mfreeMondaythroughSundaynightsforkickingyourassatbasketball,pool,orevenfoosballifyou’dlikevariety.DaytriptoPismoBeach?Andthere’sanewcomedyclubintownwecouldhit.
ClassicWill.Hethrivesonawin,acrowd,oronhisbestdays,acombinationofthetwo.
Anothertextfollows.
What’stheoccasion?Everythinggoodathome?
Heknowsmealltoowell.
Everything’sfine,accordingtoSophie.Ijustfeltlikeseeingeveryone.
It’sthetruth.NoneedtoaddI’malsoonamissiontofigureouttherealreasonSophiecanceledaDisneycruiseshewastakingthegirlsonthisweek.TheirticketswereaChristmaspresentfromme,soIknowit’snotbecauseofthemoney.Herdaughtersletthecancellationsliponaphonecall,andSophiebrusheditoffsayingshewasabletogetacruiselinecreditandthattheyhadsomethingcomeup.
Suspicious.AndallsuspiciousthingsinourworldtracebacktoMom.
Ishovetheunpleasantthoughtsasideandtexthimback.
Havingsometravelissues,though.I’llcallyouwhenI’mhometomakeaplan.
Asmymessagewhooshesthroughcyberspace,Ipeekupwardjustintimetocatchthestill-sleepingCassidyhuggingherchestassheexpelsasleep-slowedbreath.
Asighexitsmymouth.MylimbsarestiffasIgathermycoat.Ipause,heftingthepileoffabric.Woolisn’texactlythesoftestmaterialonearth,andthisthingisheavy.Perhapsmoretothepoint,Cassidyknowsthiscoatismine.Hadplentytosayaboutitontheplane.I’dliketoavoidherlinkingthisbacktome.
Ipivottomysuitcase,grabarolled-uprunninghoodie,andcrosstohersideofthegate.Theoutsidechillseepsthroughtheglass.Nowondershe’sshivering.
Idrapeitoverher.
I’mnottuckingherinoranything.Justrestoringthebalancebetweenus.Ididn’tholdtheshuttle—notthatIheardorsawher—anddespitethat,shestillhelpedmeoutontheplaneinmylowmoment.Now,I’vepreventedherfromgettingpneumonia.
Anyonewoulddothesame.
Hourslater,afterI’vesettledbackagainstthewallandfoundaworkingrhythm,I’malmosttoobusytonoticewhenshestirs.
Almost.ChapterFive
Cassidy
Ijoltuprightandwhipmyheadleftandright.Recognitionofmysurroundingsdawnsasmysleepybrainflickerstolife.Airport.Thelightsaredimbutnotout,likeatheaterjustbeforeashow.
AndhereIwashopingthediversionwasadream.
Myattentionfallstoaforeignbundleofgrayfabricinmylap.AtiredsqueakleavesmymouthasIshoveitoffmylegs.
Theheck?
Withapincergrip,Ipluckitofftheground.Ithasahood,butnodrawstring.Thecottonisthreadbareandfaded.Aquickpeekinsiderevealsthetagismissing.
Thisisthebabyblanketofsweatshirts,worntodeath.
Iliftmychinandsearchthearea.
Ofthehundredorsopeoplecampinginthisgate,there’sonlyoneIcouldpickoutofalineup.AndthelastthingMr.IsThisYourFirstTimeBeingRight?woulddoisoffermeasweatshirt.HisdislikeofmeissointensehechosetoarguewithmeinsteadofconcedingthatIwasrightaboutthehotelsituation,evenafterwe’dachievedamutualunderstandingandrespectasourplanelanded.
OrsoIthought.
That’swhatIgetforattemptingtoturnoverafriendlierleaf:Lukesass.Aglimpseathisego.IbetifItoldhimtheairportwasonfirehe’dhavetogoogleittobeabundantlysureratherthantrustmyassessment.
Sowhatifhedoesn’tlikeme?Ididn’tlikehimfirst.I’vegotsquatter’srightsonthisgrudge.
Andyet,Ihaveasweatshirtinmyclammyhands.
IspotLukeandhistousledshockofhairacrossthewalkway.Itappearshe’sransackeditwithhishandatimetoomany.EventheWASPyishamongusaresusceptibletotheharrowingrealitiesofanall-nighter,Iguess.He’sputtingthelapinlaptopashepecksawayatthemachineperchedonhisthighs.Hisglassesreflecttheglowofthescreen.
Icouldaskhim.Butifitisn’thisandbelongstoarandomgoodSamaritanwhosawIwasuncovered—orarandompersonwhointendedtosmothermeinmysleepandfailed—I’dbemortified.
PlayingTheSimsuntiltheairlineprovidesanupdateissafer.
Myphonelightsupatmytouch.Fivetwentya.m.Thedrainedbatteryiconwinksatme.
Iscanforanopenoutlet.Toomanypeoplehavefallenasleepbody-blockingtheirchargingphones.Allplugsaretakenexceptforthetophalfofone.
ThebottomhalfhasbeenclaimedbyLuke.
Thisoughttobefun.
Igathermystuff,crossthecrowdedspace,andapproachwithmychinliftedandthesweatshirttuckedundermyarm.“CanIusethetophalfofthatoutlet?”
Helooksatmeforapproximatelyhalfasecondbeforereturninghisgazetothekeyboard.“Sure.”
I’mrevelingintheeaseofthisinteractionwhenheadds,“Imean,Idon’townit.”
“Could’vejustleftitatyes,”ImumbleasIdigmychargeroutofthefrontpocketofmysuitcaseandplugmyselfin.
Musclestightfromtheplaneandsleepingupright,Iextendmylegs.I’vegotenoughroomforafullstraddle,butIdon’tpushitfar.Justahalf.Myhamstringshuminobjection,whichmeansit’sallthemoreimportantIdothistoavoidinjuries.Evenasmallonecouldputmeoutofwork.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
IglancetotherightasIstretchfurther.Luke’sfaceisaghast.
Ikeepmyvoicelowtomatchhis.“I’mstretchingmylegs.”
“Here?”
Withthescandalizedtoneofhisvoice,you’dthinkIstrippednakedandbentover.“Sure.Whynot?”
Heslideshisglassesoffhisfaceandbuffsthemonhisshirt.“I’veneverseenanyonedoasplitinthemiddleofanairport.”
“Thisisn’tafullsplit,noramIinthemiddleofanything.We’reonthesideofaroomwherebarelyanyoneisawake.It’snotlikeIdroppeddownwhileinlineforsecurity.”Ileanagainstmyelbows,andmymusclessing.“Doesthisbotheryou?”
“No.”
“Thenwhydoyousoundbentoutofshape?”
“I’mnot.”Hereturnstohiscomputer,peck-peck-pecking.
“Great.”Ishiftevenfurtheruntilmylegsarealmostaperfect180,whichIhadnointentionofdoinguntilhequestionedme.There’ssomethingabouthistone—thattherearerightandwrongwaystodothings,andhiswaysareright—thatmakesmewanttopokehimuntilhesnaps.“It’spartofmyjobtobeflexible.I’mworking,too.Justlikeyouarewithyourtype-type-typing.”
Thetypingceases.“Yourjob?”
“Choreographer.Dancer.Professionalstretcher,asitwere.”
Heswivelshisheadroughlytendegrees,runshisgazeupmybody,andreturnstoworking.Hecouldweaponizethatsharpjawline.“Fascinating.”
Heatcreepsupmyneck.“Astoundedbymytalent?”
“Movedtotears.”
“I’llgetoutofyourwaysoonenough.”
Heletsoutastrainedsighandscrubshishandoverhismouth.Hishoarsevoicesuggestsalackofsleep.“Ididn’tsayyouhadtomove.Forgivemeforaskingasimplequestion.”
“Speakingofsimplequestions.”Icrossmylegsandholduphissweatshirt.“Anyideawherethiscamefrom?”
Hefreezesforagoodfourseconds.Thevolumeatwhichhissilenceyellsrailsagainstmyeardrums.
Ipursemylipsandliftittomynose.Thescentisvibrantandrefreshing,evocativeofCaliforniawithahintofcitrus,likecoldlemonadesippedonabeach.I’dknowitanywherethankstoasummerinhighschoolworkingatJCPenneyandhuffingenoughcolognetojump-startpuberty:RalphLauren.“Smellsgood.”
Whilehecontinuestoignoreme,Ileansidewaysintohisbubbleandsnifftheairaroundhim.
Hisgazeremainsfirmlyonhiscomputer.“Didyoujustsmellme,Cassidy?”
“Absolutelynot.”ThedeliciousscentlingersinmynoseasIbreathedeeply.“Gosh,it’sjustthestrangestthing.Iwokeupanditwasonme.IguessI’llhavetogoaskeverysinglepersoninthisterminalindividuallysoIcanthank—”
“Youwerefreezing.”Hisbrowfurrows.“Yourarmsweregoingtofalloff.”
Igrin,pleasedthatheadmittedit.“Soitisyours.”
Heshrugsashoulder.“It’snotabigdeal.”
Iscootalittlecloser.Atthisangle,Igetapeekofacolor-codedspreadsheetfilledwithnumbersonhismonitor.Gagmewithacalculator.“Thatwasveryniceofyou.”
Thewordsleavemymouthandheattricklesacrossmycheeks.
Itwasnice—unexpectedlyso.
“CanIdosomethinginreturn?”Iscanthedarkenedroom.“Idon’tknow,buyyouasnackfromthevendingmachineorsomething?YouaDoritosguy?Wait—bluebagorred?Thisisacrucialdistinction.”
“Notnecessary.”
“Okay,noDoritos.Soda?Chocolate?”
Hepusheshisglassesafractionofaninchuphisnose.“Youwereindangeroffrostbite,andI’mnotevensurethistownhasahospital.Consideritapublicservice.”
“That’sactuallyaperfectcomparison.IputoutahugebasketofSnickersandCheez-ItsforoverworkeddeliverydriverseveryDecember.Tothankthemfortheirservice.Iwishyou’dtellmewhatzero-nutrientcrapyoulikesoIcouldthankyou.”
Heeyesmewarily.“Notabigfanofsnacks.Canwedropthis,please?”
“Whoisn’tafanofsnacks?”
Hislaughisincredulous.“Haveyoueverhadaconversationthatdoesn’tendinfrustration?”
“Actually,myconversationsusuallyreachasatisfyingconclusion.”Mylipsarrangethemselvesinasmile.“Exceptwithyou,apparently.”
Hepresseshiseyesshut.“Andtothink,Icould’vebeensleepingthiswholetimeandmissedoutonallthisfun.”
Iswiveltowardhimandpushuponmyknees.Hetensesandrearsback,hittinghisheadonthewall.
“I’mnotgoingtosmotheryouwithit,Luke.”Ireachforthesuitcasestandinguprightnearhisfeet,loopthesleevesthroughhishandle,andtieitinaknot.“There.Tinysoldierhasreturnedhome.”
Icatchhiseye,andmystomachtwists.Myneckheatsashestudiesme.
“You’resomethingelse,”hesaysquietly.
I’vebeenonthereceivingendofthattilted-head,appraisinglookbefore.LikeI’verattledoffacomplexriddleandforcedhimtosolveitagainsthiswill.
It’sfinebeingsomethingelse—untilsomeonegoesoutoftheirwaytopointitout.Itthenbecomesajudgment.Abranding.
Idropbackintomyseatandanglemybodyaway.
Weco-existinsilencelongenoughthataninklingofcolorthreatensthecloudyhorizon.ItistheLaCroixflavorofsunrise,analmostimperceptibletaste.Intheinterestoflettingmybatteryfullycharge,IforgoTheSimsanddiganotebookoutofmypurse.I’mhalfwaydonefillingthepagewithpointlessdoodleswhenmyandLuke’sphoneslightupinunisononthegroundbetweenus.
AtlasAirlinesJLNtoLAX.Canceled.Standbyforupdates.
“No.”Itopplebackintomystretchofcarpetandsnatchthephoneofftheground.“No,no,no.Thiscan’tbehappening.Howcantheyjustcancel?Ohmygod,howlongaretheygoingtoleaveushere?”
“That’stheairlinesforyou.”Hisvoicehaspreciselyonedegreeofheat.Nourgency.
“Thisisanightmare!Ican’tjustwaitaroundhereforever.”
“ExactlywhyI’mnotcountingonaplane.”Henodstowardahallway.“Thecarrentalplaceopensatnineifyou’relookingforanalternatewayout.Thedeskisnearbaggageclaim.”
Afewpeoplehavestirredinthearea,allglaringdaggersattheirphones.
Oureyeslock.
Inunison,wescrambletogatherourstuff.
Ifthisentireterminalistryingtoescape,Ineedtobefirstinline.
…
Weblazeintothequietbaggageclaimarea,collectingafewlooksasweskidtoastopatthebackoftherentalline.
Lukebeatsmebyahair.
“Iwould’vebeenhereevenfasterifyoudidn’tkickmysuitcaseover,”hegrumbles.
“Youmusthavemeconfusedmewithsomeoneelse.I’dneverdisrespectSamsoniteluggagethatway.”
“Must’vebeenanotherpint-sizeredheadwithanagenda.”
Thereareeightpeopleaheadofhim,andwe’vestillgotanunholyamountoftimebeforeitopens.Mybreathingcalmsaswefilein,withtwopeoplealreadyqueuingupbehindme.
Luke’sneckhoversjustabovemyeye-line,hisperfectlyprecisehairlinehittinglikevisualASMR.Smoothandweirdlysatisfying.Thisonedoesn’tskiphismonthlystintinthebarber’schair.Thestripoftanskinabovehistravel-rumpledcollarbringsdullfrictiontothetipofmyfinger,likeIaccidentallytracedit.
Hisphysicalpresenceisoverwhelmingupclose.Longlegsthatperfectlyfillapairofdresspants.Aleanbutstrongbackthatteststheseamsofhisshirt.Broadshoulders,perfectforthrowingagirlover.Forswingdancingpurposes,ofcourse—
Myphonestirstolife,sendingapulsethroughmyhip.Apeekatthecallersoundsmyinternalalarm.
Isabelle,callingatsixa.m.hertime.
Admittedlymynervoussystemishair-triggersensitivethismorning,butthisdoesn’tbodewell.“Hey.Youokay?”
“Cursdy,”sheslurs.“Youweresupposedtocallmeback!”
Iinhaleasharpbreath.“Areyoudrunk?”Atsixinthefreakingmorning?
“Nope!Isleptfortwohours.Thatcancelsthedrunk.”
“Yeah,nothowitworks.What’sgoingon?”
“Thisweddingisadisaster.Ishouldcancelthewholestupidthing.”
Mystomachplummets.“Slowdown,Bells.Didsomethinghappen?DidyouandMikaelhaveafight?”
“Thecaterercan’tgetsalmonbecauseofsomekindofboatproblem,theflorist’scoolerbrokeandallmyflowersdied—died!—andIhavetogofindmoreandmakemyownbouquetsIguess?Wait,whataboutthetableflowers?”Shegroansstraightintomyeardrum.“Mikael’sbeenmostlyMIAworkingonabig,dumblawsuit.It’slikehedoesn’tevencarewe’regettingmarried.”
“Youknowthat’snottrue.He’sobsessedwithyou.”
“Wehaven’thadsexinthreedays.Three.Andtwoofthosewereweekenddays!”Shesucksinafastgulpofair,apseudo-hiccup.“Guesshe’snotattractedtomeanymore.Istayedupallnightwaitingforhimtogethomefromwork,andhejustpassedrightout!Ihadwineandeverything.Gah,fuckingflorist,stupidcaterer—”
“—Isabelle—”
“—I’minwayovermyheadwiththisstuff.AndmyPTOisnottimeoffbecausemybossisafuckwad.Momisuselessbecauseshe’sbeingsoMom,worryingaboutrandomstuffIdon’tcareabout”Shesighs,regainingcomposurebeforeadding,“Ineedyou.”
Isawmylipstogether.IknewIshould’vecomehomeaweeksooner.Icould’vebeenattackingthesmallerto-dolistitems,leavingthisweekfreeforthemoreimportantstuff.ButIsabelleisalwayssometiculousandcompetentIhardlythoughtwe’dfindourselvesinmeltdownterritory.Ineverexpectedwe’dbeondoubting-our-fiancé’s-attractionterrain.
She’slosingit.Mymother,asaresult,isgoingtoloseit.It’llbefireandfurywhenIgethome.Themakingsofapanicattacksimmeratthebaseofmybrain,threateningtoalerttherestofmybody.
Thisismyfault.NotmuchIcandoabouthertragicthree-daysexdrought,buttherestofthoseproblemsImustfix.Somehow.
“Bells,youstillgotyourdrink?Iwantyoutoputitdown.”
“But—”
“Down,girl.”
IwaituntilIhearthefaintthudofaglass.Idon’toftengettobetheboss—littlesisterproblems—butIsabelleneedsafirmhand.
“You’regoingtobeokay.We’regoingtogetthroughthis.Theweddingisnotadisaster.I’llcallthecatererandfloristtoday.Youneedtogobacktosleep.”
Abeatofsilencepasses.“Onemorething.Dad’snotcoming.Calledhimlastnight,which—youknowIdon’tevercallhim.And…no-sir-ee.Noanswer.Justatextback.‘Can’tmakeit,Isabelle.It’llbeallthebetterforit.’Whatdoesthatevenmean?”
Myheartpangs.“Youcalledhim,though.That’stheimportantthing.I’mhappyyoutried.”
“What’sitmatterifhe’snotevenbotheringtocome?”
“Ifyouwantarelationshipwithhimmovingforward,itmatters.He’sjustbeingstubbornbecausehe’sterrifiedofMom’swrath,andhedoesn’twanttoupstageyouonyourbigday.”
“He’spunishingmeforMombeingMom.”
Iletmyheadfallback.It’snotthetimetohavethisdiscussionyetagainaboutourbiologicalfather.That’saconversationbestleftforwhenshe’sstone-coldsoberandwecangiveittheunpackingitdeserves.“I’llcallDad.”
“Imean,Idon’twantyoutodraghimtothewedding.”
“It’sclearlyimportanttoyou.Youonlygetonewedding,andheshouldbethere.Letmehandlethis,okay?Sleep.We’lltalksoon.”
“Whattimeisyournewplanecoming?”
LikethetimeIborrowedandpromptlylosttheAriatbootssheboughtforCoachella,Ihavetopicktheperfectwordstosoftentheblow.“Aboutthat.I’mgoingtobeabitlongergettingthere.Havingaslighttransportationissue.It’slookingliketomorrowatthelatest.I’mgoingtogetacaranddrivestraightthrough.”
“What?”
“Iknowit’snotideal—”
“Notideal?Sixtypercenthumidityisnotideal.Younotbeinghererightnowisacrisis!Iswear,ifonemorethinggoeswrong,I’mcallingoff—”
“Whoa.”Ijoltatthemerementionofcallinganythingoff,evenifitisjusttipsythreats.“Don’tevensaythosewords,Bells.Everythingisalwaysmoreokayafteragoodsleep,Ipromise.I’llmakecallstovendorsasIdrive.I’llevencallyourbossifhedoesn’tbackoffthebride.”
“JackAstairewoulddropallthewaydied”—hiccup—“deadifsomeonetalkedtohimaboutanythingotherthanprofitsandnumbers.”
“ThenI’llspeaktoJackAss-taireinbinarycode.JackAssTear.Wow,whatanunfortunatename”
“Promisemeyou’llbeheresoon,please?Ican’tdothiswithoutyou,Cass.”
DeterminationsnakesitswaythroughmeuntilI’mnodding.It’smoreimportantthaneverthatIshowupforher.Evenifit’sjustforthisweek,tocheckoffallonehundredto-dos.Totalkheroffledges.Tokeepmystepfather’ssideofthefamilydistractedsotheydon’taccidentallyperceiveMom’sbloodrelativesandhowpoortheyare,theshameofMom’sexistence.
Isabelle,pillarofhumanperfection,needsme.Trustsmetobethereforher.
“I’llbethere,”Isayfirmly.“Ipromise.”
AndwhenIgetthere,I’llbethebestfuckingmaidofhonorthathasevermaidedorhonored.Imayhavechosenthewrongflight,butIwilldowhatittakestogetthisjobdone.IwanttoshowIsabelle,Mom,everyonethatIcanbegoodatthis.
BecauseifI’mnotgoodattheroleI’vetrainedformywholelife—standingbywhileIsabelleshines,helpingherlookgood,andbuildingherup—thenmaybeIdeserveMom’sconstantcriticism.
Wesayourgoodbyes,andIperchonmysuitcase,studyingGoogleMapsforwhatfeelslikeaneternity,untilthedeskopens.
Whentheclerkmaterializes,shescansthenowlonglineofwaitingpatronsandanxiouslyfluffshershortsalt-and-pepperhair.Shereceivesalotofintensestare-downsfrompeopleawaitingtheirturnassheworkswiththefirsttwocustomers,thekindofimpatientscrutinythatwouldturnmeintoablubberingmess.AfterobservingherpaceasshehandsoutthesevenrentalsinfrontofLuke,Ialmostwanttoclimboverthecounterandhelpthepoorthing.
Sheraiseshervoicetoasolid30percentintensitywhenit’sLuke’sturn.“Next.”
Lukelopestothecounteranddrawshiswalletlikeasword.I’mcloseenoughtohearhismeasuredtone.“I’dlikeavehicle,please.Somethingbigger,ifyou’vegotit.”
Sheclackschippedmauvenailsagainstakeyboard.
“Oof.”Clackclackclack.“Thisis,um…”
Luke,alreadygrippingthespeckledcountertop,slideshishandsfartherapart,bracinghimself.“Really,anythingwillwork.Sizeisn’timportant.”
Herthin,pursedlipsandwideeyessuggestshe’sonthevergeofameltdown.SheglancespastLukeattheline,catchesmyeye,andquicklydropshergazetothecomputer.“We’veonlygotonevehicleleft.”ChapterSix
Luke
“Pardon?”Cassidyrushesforward.“Didyousayonevehicle,asinonemoreafterhis?”
Themanbehindherinlineechoesherloudquestion.“Onemorevehicle?”
Achorusofgroanserupts.
Theemployee—Harriet,sayshernametag—squintstowardthecomputerscreen,theskinaroundhereyeswrinkling.“I’msorry.Hiswasthelastone.”
Cassidy’sheadtipsback.Sheexhalesslowly.
Harrietslidesmypaperworkacrossthecounter.Itakeapenfromacupandgetbusy.
Cassidypushesontotiptoesbesideme,leaningonthecounter.Hervoiceishighandtense.It’sprincesssingingatwoodlandanimalsiftheanimalswereingravedanger.“You’resurethere’snotsomekindofclunkerthatnooneeverrentsbecauseit’ssodecrepithidinginthelot?Maybeunderatarp?Anythingwillwork.I’mnotpicky.”
Harrietappearstobenearretirementage.ShecastsananxiousglanceoverCassidy’sshoulderattheangrymobandgrimaces.“I’msosorry.We’renotusuallythisbusy.Ever.Wedon’tkeepahugeinventory.IwishtherewassomethingIcoulddo.”
Amanfromthelinespeaksup,asifsanctionedbythecrowdtodoso.“Whatkindofplacedoesn’tkeepmorethaneightcars?Incompetenceatitsfinest.ThoughIguessIshouldn’texpectanydifferent,givenwhatwe’vebeenthrough.”
Themanneedsamuzzlemorethanacar.Nothinginfuriatesmemorethangrownmengivinghelplessemployeesgrief.
Cassidyglaresoverhershoulderandherexpressionmorphsfromdistressedtodetermined.“It’snotherfaulttheplanewasgrounded.Alittlekindnessgoesalongway.”ShepivotsbacktoHarriet,oblivioustothelooksshe’snowgettingfromharriedtravelers.“I’msorry.Areyouallright?”
Harriet’svoiceholdsaquiver,andthehardlinesaroundhermouthsoften.“I’mokay.Thankyouforasking.”Shelowershervoicesubstantiallyandleanscloser.IfIwasn’tafootaway,signingmylifeawaytothesupplementalinsurancepowers-that-be,Iwouldn’tbeabletohear.“Ifyougivemeasecond,Icancheckwhenmorevehiclesareexpected.Idon’twanttobroadcastitbecauseI’mnotsurethebestwaytomanageallthesepeople.”
Cassidypressesherlipstogetherandnods.
ThebriefdeterminationinHarriet’seyespetersoutafterafewsecondsofclickingaroundthedatabase.“Oh…”
“It’sokay,”Cassidyoffers.“They’llsendanotherplane.Thiswillworkitselfout.Eventually.”
Idon’tmissthedefeatinherotherwisechippertone.
Anditdoesn’thelpanyone’smoodthataflat-screenmountedonthewallloudlyprojectstheweatherchannel.Astormismovingourway,currentlycovering(anddestroying)groundinOklahomaandTexas,whichfurtherdwindleseveryone’schancesofgettingonaplaneoutofheretoday.
“Headinghomeorsomewhereelse,honey?”HarrietasksCassidyasshescrawlsNOAVAILABLEUNITSonapieceofpaperandtapesittothebackofhercomputermonitor.
“Ah…home,Iguess.Usedtobe,anyway.”
“I’msorryyourtripisofftoaroughstart.”
“Thankyou.Betyou’veneverseensomethinglikethisbefore,allthesepeoplestranded.”
IslidethepaperworkbacktoHarrietquietly,soasnottointerrupttheirbuddingfriendship.Harrietoffersmemykey,andIpocketit.
Cassidyliftsherhandmyway.It’sthemostpitifulwaveI’veeverseen,accompaniedbyasadsmile.“Safetravels.”
Aresponsediesinmythroatatthefarawaylookonherfaceassherescuesherphonefromitsbriefpocketcaptivity
Ireplayherearlierwords,fromthecallshetookaboutthreeinchesawayfrommyear,thusfunnelingeveryworddirectlyintomyskull.
I’llbethere.Ipromise.
Itwasanemphaticpromiseatthat.
Afterafewteeth-grindingseconds,Ioffer,“Safetravelstoyouaswell.”
Whowasshemakingapromiseto?
What’stheurgency?
HellifIknow.It’snoneofmybusinessanyway.
Andyet…
Ipeekoverather,cuppingthebackofmyneck.Ifit’spossibletosecond-guessathoughtbeforeitevenfullycrossesyourhead,Ido.
Damnit.Ican’tjustleaveherstrandedhere.
Harriet,apparentlysympathetictothemiserablelookonCassidy’sface,pointsatthegate.“Ifithelps,JavaJuiceacrossthegatemakesameancappuccino.Youcouldtryonewhileyouwait.TellthemHarrietsentyouandthey’lltreatyounice.”
Cassidystartsaslowbackwardwalk.“You’reapeach,Harriet.I’llgrabyouone,too,foryourtroubles.Whatkindofsweetener—”
“Wait,”Iblurt.
Cassidyfreezes,eyeswide.“Sorry?”
I’mjustassurprisedassheisbythesoundofmyownvoice.Iclearmythroat.“You’reheadingtoL.A.,right?”
“Westlake.”Shereleasesthehandleofhersuitcaseandcrossesherarmsacrosshersparklyshirt.“Why?”
I’llbethere.Ipromise.
Iknowathingortwoaboutpromisesandobligations.
Ialsoknowafairamountaboutnotgettingincarswithstrangers,butallofitseemstoescapeme.“Listen.Idon’tknowyourstory.I’vegottogettoCaliforniainahurry,anditsoundslikeyoudo,too.Ifyouwanttosplitthedrive,we’llgettherethatmuchfaster.Icoulduseanotherbody.”
Shetiltsherhead.“That’sanominouswaytodescribealiving,breathingperson.”
“Whatwouldyoulikemetosay?Ineedanotherpairoffeettooperatethepedals?Asetofeyestowatchtheroad?”
“CanyounotdescribemelikeI’mabunchofmovingpartsinameatsuit?You’regivingmajorserialkillervibes.”
Isnort.“I’mtheoneofferingmycartoastrangerwithaflairforthedramatics.Ifanyoneisindanger,it’sme.”
Sheuncrossesherarmsandplunksherfistsonherhips.“Youdon’tknowanythingaboutmeotherthanwhereI’mgoing.AndIdon’tknowanythingaboutyouotherthanthatyouwearRalphLaurencologne—”
“Howthehell—”
“—andhaveanuncannyknackforirritatingme.Whatmakesyouthinkwecantakeatriptogether?”
“It’snotatrip.”Ishudderattheconnotation.“Notevenclose.Tripsrequirebeachesorskislopes.This?”Isweepmyarm,gesturingatthesingleconveyorbeltbaggageclaiminthisairport,thecarrentaldesk,thetrappedpassengersawaitingtheirfate.“It’satravelshitstormandwe’restuckinittogether.Ijusthappentohaveanumbrella.”
Herexpressionisinscrutableashergazepinsmine.“You’regoingtoLosAngelesquickly?Like,yourpriorityisgettingthereasfastaspossible?”
“Mightpickupacanofnitrousontheway.”
Cassidy’sgazerakesmeover.Sheisunabashedinherperusal,takinghersweettime.ItfeelslikestandinginoneofthoseX-raymachinesattheTSAcheck-in.Youshouldn’tfeelanything,andinreality,youdon’t.Butyoudo.Yourbodyregisterssomethingforeign,maybeintrusive.Possiblylethalinhighdoses.Strangelywarming.
“Why?”shefinallyasks.
“Whywhat?”
“Whyareyouoffering?Youdon’tevenlikeme.”
True.Ithink.“Because.”
Hereyesnarrow,riddledwithsuspicion
“BecauseIaccidentallytookyourstupidparkingspot,allright?”Iblowoutabreath.“ThentheshuttleleftyouinthecoldbecauseIdidn’thearyoucallingforme.Andyoustillhelpedmeontheplane,eventhoughyouwereangry.Youobviouslyneedtogettowhereyou’regoingsinceyoupanickedaboutmissingyourflightandpromisedsomeoneyou’dbethere—andbeforeyouaccusemeofeavesdropping,Ican’thelpbuthearphonecallswhentheyareinserteddirectlyinmybrainatcloserange—andI’vegotacar.I’mheadingtoL.A.So,wecaneithercontinuethisspiriteddiscussion,orwecancallitevenandgetontheroad.”
Amaninasweat-drenchedpolowieldingabriefcasestepsupbesideher.“Youofferingridesoutwest,pal?Ifshe’snotinterested,I’dbegladtotakeherplace.”
Cassidy’shandclosesaroundmyforearm.“Waitasecond.Let’snotbehasty.IneversaidIwasn’tinterested.”Sheplugsinhersmileandaimsitattheman.“Excuseuswhilewenegotiate.”
Shetugsmeoutofearshot.Imeethereye,andshemeetsitrightback.WhitenoisecracklesinmyheadashergazeshiftsfromhesitanttosomethingIdon’trecognize.Thoseblueglaciersseemtohavemeltedalittle,likemaybetheydon’twanttosinkmyTitanic
Shetapshercheek.“You’reseriousaboutthis?”
Inodtowardthedoor.“Whatdoyousay?Youinorout?”ChapterSeven
Cassidy
OveronehundredandfiftythousandwordsintheEnglishlanguage,andIcanonlyaccessone.
“Wow.”
Luke’smouthflatlines.
“Notasarcasticwow,”Iaddhastily.“I’msurprised.”
Shocked,actually,thathelistenedtowhatIhadtosayontheplane,andisgoingsofarastovalidatemysideoftheargument.
Doublyshockedthathe’sgleanedhowbadlyIneedtogettoCaliforniabasedonourlimitedinteractionsandactuallywantstohelp
Mystomachtiltsonitsaxis,justenoughtounsettleme.
Butnoneofthismeansridingwithhimisagoodidea.Twenty-somethinghourstrappedtogetherinacarwithsomeoneyoubarelyknowandwillprobablyarguewithatleastnineteenofthosehoursfeelslikeapunchlinetoajokeorapunishmentforlosingabet.
Thesteadydrumofdesperationtogethomebeatsharderandfasterinmychestthelongerwestandherestaringateachother.LikeI’monthebluntedgeofacliff,awaitingmybodytodecideifit’swillingtojump.
Isabelleneedsme.AtlasAirlinesclearlycan’tbetrustedtogetmethere.
Lukescrubshischinandtakesafewstepstowardthedoor.“Forgetit.Itwasjustanidea.Bestofluck—”
“Holdon.”Icrossthehideoustanlinoleum,closingthegaphecreated.“I’minterested.ButIhaveafewconditions.”
Hequirksabrow.“Conditions?”
“First,Ineedtoseeyourlicense.Tomakesureyouarewhoyousayyouare.”
Whileheremoveshiswalletfromhispocket—leather,bulky,probablyfilledwithcreditcardsofabsurdlyhighlimits—InavigatetothefavoritecontactsinmyphoneandtapBerkeley’snumber.
Luke,halfwaytoofferinghisID,recoilshisarm.“Wait,areyouFaceTimingsomeoneagain?Rightnow?”
“Obviously.Ineedawitness.Herapprovalisconditionnumbertwo.”
“What,she’sgoingtojudgemebymyface?”
It’sprobablythemostpleasantthingaboutyou,Idon’tsay,becauseI’mnotinthebusinessofalienatingmyonlymeansofescape.Evenifit’strue.
Berkeley’sroomispitchblackwhensheanswers.
“Th’ell?”shegrumbles,sleeprumpled.
Iinterpretthisasthehell,whichmakesperfectsense,givenit’saboutelevena.m.Ashevilletimeandworkingswingshiftshasturnedherintoanightowlwhosleepsin.“Morning,Sunshine!Listen,I’vegotabitofasituationhere,andIneedyourhelp.”
“Okay.Iseeyou’restillinpublic,andI’mnaked.Givemeasecondtothrowonclothes.”Shetossesthephoneontothebedassherustlesaround.
IsnortatLuke’speachyblush.“Relax,StrangerDanger.Peoplesleepnaked.”
“That’snot—whoisthisperson,exactly?”hewhispers,asifiPhonescan’tpickupfrantic,splutteringhuffs.
“Myroommate,Berkeley,isgoingtohelpmevalidateyouridentity.”Iextendanopenhand.“License,please.”
Lukedepositsitonmypalmandwatchesmeintently,asifafraidImightpocketthethingandmakearunforitifheblinks.
Ipeekupathiscaramellyblondcoifandthenbackatthelicense.
6’2”,blondhair,hazeleyes,organdonor
Hedoesn’tflinchatmyonce-over,evenwhenitseguesintoatwice-over.“Isthisroommateofyoursgoingtoblastmynameandaddressacrosstheinternet?”heasks.
Istrokemychinandpretendtoconsiderthis.“NotifI’mdeliveredtoCaliforniainonepiece.”
“What’sthisI’mhearing?”Berkeleyasksassheswitchesonalight.Herilluminatedfacefillsthescreen.“Deliveringyou?”
“TheairlinehasstrandedusinMissouriandleftustolanguishinobscurity,andImetaguywhocandrivemebacktoCalifornia.Butintheoffchancehehasmafiatiesandtriestodisappearme—”
“What?I’mnotinthemafia,”Lukeblusters.
Isparehimalook.“That’sexactlywhatsomeoneinthemafiawouldsay.”Iturnbacktomyphone.“Iwantyoutohavehisfullidentityandknowthesoundofhisvoice,allthatgoodstuff.Soyoucanidentifyhim,ifneeded.”
Berkeleymorphsintoahumanemoji,theonewithhyphen-slitsforeyes.“Whoisthisman?Moreimportantly,whyisthismanofferingyouaride?”
IswiveltogetLukeinframe—hewashidingdirectlybehindthephonebefore—andpositionmyselfasifwe’reabouttotakeaphototogether.Helookslikehe’dratherwitnesshisownexecutionthanendureevenasecondofsharedscreentime,butIpersist.“Hescoredthelastrentalcarandistakingpityonmypoorsoul.”
Lukerakeshishandsthroughhishairtwice,wiltingunderBerk’sscrutinousstare.“Hi.I’mLuke.”Heclearshisthroat.“Carlisle.LukeCarlisle.IworkatDeLeonConsultants,ifyouwanttogoogleme.I’mareallynormal,boringdude.”
Alsowhatsomeoneinthemafiawouldsay,butIdon’tspeakitaloudforthesakeofmovingthisalong.
“Greetings,”Berkeleychirps.“Whyareyoutryingtoluremyroommateintoyourcar,Luke?What’syourendgame?”
“Idon’thaveanendgame.I’vegotacar.”
“Andofallthepeoplepresumablystrandedfromyourflight,mygorgeous,big-heartedbestfriendistheoneyou’refeelingcharitabletoward?”Sheclickshertongue.“Interesting.”
“Aw,Buttercup,”Isay,agrinsplittingmyface.“You’rebig-heartedandgorgeous.”
“Wehadanaltercationintheparkinglot,andIoweher,”Lukesaysmatter-of-factly.“Sheisundernoobligationtotaketheride.Justtryingtohelp.”
“WhichIcoulddesperatelyuse,”Iadmit.“I’dliketoactuallymakeittoCaliforniathiscentury.”
Berkeleywrangleshercurlsintoscrunchiesubmission.“Fairenough.I’mnottryingtohangoutinCaliforniawithMommyDearestwithoutyou.HolduphislicensesoIcanseeit,you,andhimallatthesametime.”
Theframefreezesasshetakesascreenshot.
“Nowthebackofit.”
Ioblige.
“Hmm,whatelse?”Shetapsherchin.
“Needmybloodtype,too?”Lukesaysunderhisbreath.
Berkeleyscoffs.“Youcan’tblameusforbeingcareful.Safetyisimportant.Cassidyispreciouscargo.Infact,Ithinkweneedacharacterwitness.”Ourtealcabinetsdancebehindherassheglidesacrossthekitchen,thetell-talesoundsofcoffeepreparationaudibleinthebackground.“Someonetovouchthatyouarewhoyouclaimtobe.”
“Doyouthinkwereallyneedthat?”IpeekovermyshoulderandcatchLuke’seye.Hisnearnesspricklesthebackofmyneck.“We’vegothispictureandlicenseinformation.IfIdon’tmakeitoutofthisalive,justdeletemybrowserhistoryandtellmymomIdieddoingsomethingimpressive.”
“Exactlynooneatyourfuneralwillbesurprisedbyyoursoft-focusporntaste,Cass.”
“Softfocus?Excuseyou!Andthat’snotwhatIwasreferringto.I’mmoreworriedaboutpeoplelearningtheembarrassingcelebrityfactoidsIsearch—”
Lukeplucksthephonefrommyhand.“Here.”Hepressestheplussignonthetoprightanddialsanumber.“Youwantacharacterwitness?MeetWill.”
“Who’sWill?”Iask.
“WegrewupfiveminutesapartinCalifornia.Knowsmebetterthananyone.”
Aflushedfaceappearsinthetopleftofthescreenoncue.“Hello?Oh,hello,beautifulladies.AndLuke.”
Thismanismid-runwithareflectiveheadband,barelywinded,andjudgingbyhisinflectionsextremelyexcitedtointeractwithusateighta.m.Pacifictime.
Lukedoesn’tmincewords.“Will,meetCassidyandBerkeley.”
“Hi,CassidyandBerkeley.TowhatdoIowethepleasure?”
I’msodistractedbyWill’sheadbobbingupanddownashejogsIforgettotalk.Whoanswersacallandthencontinuestoexercise?
“Tomakealongstoryshort,”Lukesays,“IneedyoutotellthesewomenI’mnotinthemafiaorotherwisedangerous.”
“Objection!Leadingthewitness,”Berkeleysnaps,thrustingmyfavoriteoverpricedAnthropologiecoffeemugintheair.
Will’slaughisuncontrolled,perhapsfromallthecardio.Heslowstoastop,andhisdarkhairandevendarkerfiveo’clockshadowcomeintofocus.“Whyareyoutryingtoconvincetwowomenyouaren’tadangerousmenace?Oh,isthisaTinderhookup?Nicework.Abouttimeyougotyourassbackoutthere.”
LukeandIemitcompetingscreechesofdissentbeforebabblingovereachother
“Will—”
“What—”
“Thisisyourcharacterwitness?”Berkeley’ssardoniclaughcracklesthephone.“Doesn’tbodewell,Luke.”
Willslowstoawalk.“Whoa,nowwaitasecond.Whywouldthatbeanindictmentofhischaracter?Sexpositivityisimportant.Throuplingisvalid.”
“Ofcourseit’svalid.It’sjustthatsexisthefirstplaceyourmindwentwhenthinkingofLuke,”Berkeleyexplains.“That’stelling.”
“ThefirstplacemymindgoeswhenthinkingofLukeisnotsex.It’stacos,”Willcorrects.“Andthenprobablyspreadsheetsandcosplay—inthatorder.Butsincetwoyoung,stunningwomencalledtoaskwhethermybestfriendisagoodguy,andliterallynoneofyouexplainedwhatwearedoinghere,Imadeawildguess.Forgiveme.”
Berkeleyarcsabrow.“Cosplay?What’syourfandom,Luke?Gotanypictures?”
Ipeekovermyshoulder,accidentallyinhalinghiscitrusysweatshirt-smellfromthesourceagain.“Yeah,gotanypictures?”
Lukepinchesthebridgeofhisnose.“Ishould’vecalledmyboss.”
“This,”Isay,“isfarandwidethemostinterestingthingI’velearnedaboutyou,andyouwanttobrushpastit?”
Helancesmewithasternlook.“Canwestartover?”
GivenI’mmeltingundertheraysofmiseryradiatingfromhisbody,Iacquiesce.“Fine.Let’sstartagain.Hi,Will.MyfriendandIwerejusttryingtomakesureLukeisagoodenoughguythatI’dbesafetogetinacarwithhim.Canyouconfirmthatisthecase?”
Will’sforeheadcreasesinconcern.“Whathappenedtoyourplane,Luke?”
“Thewindshieldcracked.I’mabouttodrivehomeinarentalfromMissouri.Cassidymayormaynotberidingwithme.”
“Oh,Isee.Sorry,ladies,I’veneverhadtovouchforLukebeforebecausehe’susuallytheonevouchingforme.Orbailingmeandeveryoneelseoutoftrouble.”Herunsahandoverhisstubble.“Like,ifthere’saparty,he’sthedesignateddriver.It’saforegoneconclusionthathe’salwaysthemostresponsibleoneinanyroom.Toafault,actually.SometimesIjustwanttoshakehimupalittle,youknow?HencewhyIjumpedtotheTindersexconclusion.Iwashopinghewashavingfunforonceinhislife—”
“M’kay,”Lukesays,hoveringafingerovertheendcallbutton.“Thataboutdoesit,right?”
“Sohe’sresponsibleandyouwanthimtobe…lessthatway?”Berkeleytakesasipfromthesteamingmug.“Andyou’dratherhimbedrunkandsloppyinsteadofthedesignateddriver?”
Will’slaughisdeepandscratchy.“Sorry,I’mtryingtoimagineLukebeingsloppy,andit’stooamusingforwords.Themanironshisjeans.”
“Idonotironmyjeans,”Lukeinsists.
Willcockshisheadtotheside,waiting.
“Once.Iironedthemonce.”
“Thereitis.Listen,thebottomlineisIsupportmyfriendhavingfun.Howeveritlooks.”Willslapsonaninnocentsmile.“Andif‘fun’happenstoincludethebeautifulCassidy—”
“Donotcallherbeautiful.Youdon’tevenknowher,”Berkeleyhuffs.
Willhitsuswithanarchedbrow.“Myapologies.Cassidy,tellmealittlesomethingaboutyourself.”
Mymindisswirlingtomakesenseoftheirrapid-firediscussion.“Uh—I’madancer?”
“Anathlete!Thattakesseriousdiscipline.”Willsparesmeacharminggrin.Thedudeisanicercharacterwitnessthanthecharacterhimself.“Yourturn,Berkeley.”
Sherollshereyes.“Youdon’tneedtoknowanythingaboutme.”
“Fairenough,gorgeous.Don’tsayIdidn’ttrytogettoknowyou.”
Berkeleyallbutshort-circuits.“What’syourdeal?Areyouclinicallyincapableofcommentingonanythingotherthanlooks?”
“OnaFaceTimewithstrangers?Nope.”Will’slipshookadevilishsmile.“Ihavefoursisters.Irespectthehelloutofwomen.Doesn’tmeanI’mnotgoingtopointoutthatyou’recute,evenwhilescowling,becauseyou’vegivenmenopersonalinformationtoworkwith.Can’tverywellcomplimentyouforanythingelse,canI?”
“Sisters,”sheechoes,tappinghercheek.“Okay.Soyou’dbefinewithstrangerscallingthembeautifulandcute,then?”
Hiseyesflashaglimmerofamusement.“Sure,ifthey’reokaywithit,sincethey’recapableofmakingthatdecisionforthemselves.That’sthedefinitionofempowerment.”
IfIhadtoguessBerkeley’sdetonationswitch,it’dbesomeonemansplainingempowermenttoher.
“Ithinkwe’redone!”Iblurt,glancingatLukeforconfirmation.Henodsardently,andIreturnmygazetothephone.“Yup,we’regood.Thankstoyouboth.We’llcheckinlater.”
Berkeleytakestopacingthelivingroom.Hergo-toflusteredmove.“IfLukeevensomuchaslooksatyoufunny,useMace.Ifyoudon’thaveMace,buysome!”
“Mace?”Willwinces.“Luke,ifyourgirlsomuchaslooksatyoufunny,don’tuseMacebecausethatshitdoespermanentdamage.Haveaconversation.Choosepeace.”
“Okay,thanks!”Lukejabstheredbutton.
Ileapsidewaysoutofhispersonalspacebubble.
“Thatwentwell,”hedeadpans,handingmemyphone.“Feelbetter?”
“NowthatIknowyoucosplayandeattacos,Ifeelmuchsafer,yes.”Ibitemybottomlip,trappingalaugh.“Willseems…colorful?”
“That’sonewordforhim.”
Theotherwouldbefriendly,thoughLukelikelydoesn’tidentifywiththeconcept.
Butthenagain,thisrideLuke’sofferingisahugefavortome,evenifit’sonlytoabsolvehimselfofguilt.Evenifitlookslikehe’dratherlickahotenginethantalkaboutitanyfurther.
Lukeeyesasetofdoubledoorswistfully.“Anymoreconditionsorcanwemakethisdrivesometimetoday?”
Ipivottowardthedoor,signalingforhimtoleadthewayoutside.
AswecloseinonthesmallblackcarI’vejusttetheredmyselfto,trepidationquickensmypulse.“Thisisours?”
“Yes.”HepopsthetrunkoftheVolkswagenJettaandtuckshissuitcaseinside,thenremovesmysuitcasefrommyhandandunceremoniouslythrowsitinnexttohis.
Hisfacemorphsintoagrimaceasheopensthedriver’ssidedoor.“There’snowayI’mgoingtofitinthis.”
“Titleofyoursextape?”
HestaresblanklymywayforaboutthreesecondsbeforeImumblenevermindundermybreathandtakemyseatinthesmallestcabinthateverwas.
Thecarfeelsevenmorecrampedthanitlookswhenwe’rebothinside,knockingelbowsaswepluginourseatbelts.Hewasn’tkiddingaboutnotfitting;hehastohunchalittlesothetopofhisheaddoesn’tknocktheroof.
Thegravityofwhatwe’reabouttodosettlesovermeassilencefallsbetweenus.
“Areyouacautiousdriver?”Iask.“Howmanystopsareyouplanningtomake?”
“Ihaveeveryintentionofdrivingsafely,Iassureyou.Andquickly.Asfewstopsashumanlypossible.”
“Good.Iwasnervousyou’dwanttostopalottoeat,orsleep,ortakepicturesofthosestate-shapedwelcomesignsattheborders.”
“That’swhatmakesyounervous?”Atinyburstofairescapeshismouth.“Metakingthescenicroute?Notthatwejustmet?”
“Nope.Signageismybiggestfear.Wallsclutteredwithdemandingplacards.Live,laugh,love!Fran’skitchen,takeitorleaveit!Eatlikenoone’swatching!Orworse,allthosesignsthatarejustoneword.Gather.Dine.WhydoIneedinstructionstoexistinahome?”
HisfaceFortKnoxesharderthanever.
Thecoolmorningairslipsovermyskinlikeanicebath.“Thatwasajoke.Mostly.Ihavewaybiggerfears.”
“Didn’twanttolaughuntilIwassure.”Hestartsthecarandfiddleswiththetemperature.
Irollmyeyes.I’mlearningoursensesofhumoraremutuallyexclusive.It’sgoingtobealongtwenty-somethinghours.ChapterEight
Luke
CassidyclutchestheJetta’soh-shitbarandshootsapointedlookmywayasItapthebrakes.
“What,amIdrivingtoofast?”
“Aucontraire,sir.Yourslownessisahazard.Andyoucan’tbrakelikethatinthefastlane.”
Isqueezethewheelindefiance.“Iwascreepingabovethespeedlimit!Ihadtoslowdown.That’swhatbrakesarefor.”
“The‘limit’dependsontheflowoftraffic.It’sflexible.”
“Oh,good,Iwashopingyou’dbeabackseatdriver.”
“Passenger’sseat,actually.”Shepropshershinywhitebootsonthedash.
Inthehalfanhourwe’vebeendriving,she’smanagedtofullymoveintothisvehicleasifit’satinyhome.Apuffyhairbandiswrappedaroundtheshifter.Thetubeoflipstickshedugoutofherpocketwasreassignedtothehollowed-outnookbeneaththeradio.Herscentfillsthecar,somethingvaguelyfloralIfirstdiscoveredwhileshehoverednearmeduringtheworld’smostdysfunctionalfour-wayphonecall.Maybeit’shershampoo,usedonthehairshe’snowactivelybrushingwithherfingers.Ican’tplacetheflower—I’mnotafuckingbotanist—butit’sstrong.Itlingers.
Thiscarissmall
“Doyoulikeroad-tripgames?”sheasksbrightly.
“Suchas?”
Shepointsatthewindshieldwithherfoot.“Licenseplategame.Look,there’sMissouri.AndthatHonda?AlsoMissouri.”Asecondpasses.“ThreemoreMissouris.Weirdhowthisstatedoesn’thavemorevisitors.”
“Idon’tplayroad-tripgames.”
Herjawdrops.“NoteventheABCgame?”
“Nope.”
“Unfathomable.”Shestretchesherarmsbehindher.Adeepsighleaveshermouth.
Herlegsmoveandstretch,too.Iside-eyeher,reluctantlyacknowledgingtherealityofherwork-honedbody.Everymovementisslow,fluid,evensensual,punctuatedbysharpburstsofenergy.
She’sadancer,allright.
Ifixmyfocusonthehorizon.
“I’vegotafewtruecrimeandunsolvedmysterypodcastsdownloaded,”sheoffers.“Isthatmoreyourspeed?”
“Thosepodcastsaredepressing.”
Shescoffs.“No,theyaren’t!They’repsychologicallyrevealing.Nobetterwaytolearnaboutthehumanconditionthantotrytogetintheheadsofasmanydifferentpeopleaspossibletofigureoutwhatmakesthemtick.”
“I’dliketoknowlessaboutthehumancondition,frankly.Whataboutsci-fi?I’vegotAudibleandatonofoptions.Nowthatisinterestingcontent.”
Shesquirmsinherseat.“Youshouldroadtripwithmystepfather,Rand.YoutwocouldtaketurnsdrivingtenunderasyoudiscussthelivabilityofMars.”
“Hey,howabouttheQuietGame?Allowmetoexplaintherules.Forthenexttwenty-fourhours—”
“Nah.”ShecrankstheAC.“Ialwayslose.”
Theskyisgloomy.WecheckedthedopplerbeforewepulledoutofthelotandagreedthatskewingourroutenorththroughKansaswasworthavoidingthestormsbarrelingthroughOklahoma.Anythingtoavoidgettingswallowedbyatornado.
“So,Luke.”Sheisalmostonhersidefacingmebutstillbeltedinsomehow.“Tellmeaboutyourself.”
Mypulsetripsunderthespotlightofherfullattention.ItremindsmeofeveryforcedmixerincollegewhereIinevitablymumbledsomethingnonsensicalbeforepassingtheproverbialbaton.
AllittookwasonetimerevealingtoomuchtothewrongpeopletoensureInevermadethatmistakeagain.Isqueezethewheel.“Notmuchtotell.”
“I’msurethat’snottrue.”
Ihitherwithasurefiredistraction.“Whataboutmusic?Ibetyou’vegotlotsofgoodstuff,beingachoreographerandall.”
Sheperksup.
Bingo.
“You’relettingmechoosethemusic?That’squiteasacrifice.WhatifI’mintoweirdstuff?”
“I’mnottooconcerned.AccordingtoBerkeley,yourtasteskews…whatwasit?Softfocus?”
Herlaughisfull.“You’refunny.Nomatterwhateveryonewhohasevermetyouprobablythinks.I’llhookupmyBluetooth—whoa,again,withthebrakes?MaybechangelanesbeforethatDodgemowsyouover.”
Iflicktheblinker.“Maybethat’smygoal.”
“Isthatajoke?”
“Iguesswe’llneverknow.”Istretchmystiffneck.“I’mgoingtostopatthefirstdecentgasstation.Thetiresneedair.”
Shecrossesonelegovertheother.“Isthatabigdeal?Wejustgotontheroad.”
“Tireblowoutsleadtoasurprisingamountofaccidents.”
“That’saverynichetidbittopulloutofthinair.Youatirehobbyist,Luke?”
Iadjusttherearviewmirror.“I’manactuary.”
“Actuary.Right.Idefinitelyknowwhatthatis.”
“Mycompanydoesalotofworkforinsurancecompanies.WhichmeansIknowanunfortunateamountaboutcars.”IshakemyheadtodislodgethehorrificthingsI’velearnedaboutaccidentsoverthelastfewyears.“Notexactlythekindoffactoidsyou’dwanttohearwhileinsideofone.”
“Infairness,I’dneverwanttohearunfortunatecarfactoids,evenifIwasinthemiddleofanopenfield.”
“Sorry.Ishouldn’thavementionedit.Didn’tmeantomakeyouanxious.”
Shepivotsinherseat,andhergazeburnsaholeinthesideofmyface.“Noneedtoapologize.It’sactuallykindofnicetoknowyouarecapableofempathizingwithmyfeelings,though.Likemaybeyouaren’tasociopathafterall.”
Irollmyeyes.“Iwishyou’dstopassumingtheabsoluteworstofme.Oratleastactivateyourfilterandkeepittoyourself.”
Asmallpausefollowsmystatement,whereitwouldbesilent,ifnotfortherhythmthumpingthroughthespeakers.
“You’reright.”Hertonefalters.“Forthesakeofthisthingwe’renotcallingaroadtrip,I’llworkonkeepingmythoughtstomyself.”
Ifshe’sgoingforlighthearted,shemissesitbyacountrymile.Andwhenshedoesn’tproceedtoofferanythingelse,tensioninvadesthecar.Sheretractsherlegs,hugsherkneestoherchest,andcastshergazeoutthewindow.It’slikeapartitionslammedshutbetweenus.
Somehow,withoutmeaningto,I’veburstherenthusiasticbubble,noteventhirtyminutesintothisdrive.
WillwasrightaboutonethingonFaceTime:I’musuallythemostresponsiblepersoninanyroom.I’malsothequietest—forareason.Givemetasks,concretedeliverables,anddeadlinesoversmalltalkanyday.Ialwaysclamuporsaythewrongthing.Hencemypreferencefornumbers,whichnevermakeyoulooklikeanasshole.
MyprimaryconversationpartnerisWill,andheandIareroutinelyassholestoeachotherforfun.Apartfromhimandmytripshome,I’vebeenmostlyalonesincemydisastrousrelationshipwithGenevieveendedayearago.AndworkhardlycountsbecauseIcoulddothatinmysleep.
IthinkI’veforgottenhowtodothiswithawoman.EspeciallyoneasexpressiveasCassidy.
NotthatI’mtryingtodoanythingwithCassidyotherthantreadwaterinthiscar.
Shestillhasn’tsaidawordwhenIpullintotheLove’sstation.Theyellowsigncutsthroughthefog,abeacon,thebrighthuealmostmockingthethickcloudcover.
AnuncomfortableshiftinghappensinmychestasIthrowthecarintoparknexttoapumpandturntofaceher.She’sreadingsomethingonherphoneanddoesn’tlookbackatme,evenwhenIclearmythroat.
Wellthen.
IstealalookatmyphoneasIcontemplatewhatmight’vepissedheroff.
ThreetextsfromWillawaitme.ThefirstisalinktoaSpotifyplaylist.
SensualSlowJams.
Thesecond:
Sheseemsnice…
Followedby:
Andattractive.Andwillingtogetinyourcar.Youshouldaskheroutwhenyougethere.
Ishovethephonebackinmypocket.
WillknowsIdon’tdate.Notrightnow.Mylife,schedule,andprioritiesleavenoroomforit,andaftermyexmadeitclearthatnowomanwouldevertoleratesplittingmyattentionwithmyfamilyandwork,I’mnotinterestedintrying.Myfamilydemandsaren’tchanginganytimesoon,andworkisonlygettingmoreintensenowthatRogelioistalkingaboutexpanding.
I’mnolongerinterestedinflings,either.Thoseexperiencesdrainedmeinmorewaysthanone.Somewerefunbutleftmefeelinghollow,otherswereterrifyingwhenthewomenturnedouttohavesecretboyfriendsorhusbands,andonememorabledatecostmethousandsofdollarsafterthegirlrobbedmyhousewhileIwasdrivingtopickupto-gofoodaftersex.IhadtobuyanewTV,computer,andwatch.
Bottomline,ifIlikeaperson,I’memotionallyallin.Butsincelong-termisn’tonthetable,I’matanimpasse
Besttoavoidanyandallofthat,atleastuntilRogeliodecideswhenhe’sgoingtoopenaCalifornialocation.It’llprobablybeyearsuntilhefeelsI’mreadytorunit.MaybethenI’llfindtheelusivebalancerequiredtodate,whenI’mcallingtheshotsatworkandcloseenoughtomyfamilythatIdon’thavetostressaboutunexpectedemergenciesortripshome.
Itapthecenterconsole.“YouwanttotopoffthetankwhileIrunin?I’vegottograbquartersfortheirarchaicairmachine.I’llpayforthenextfulltank.Soundgood?”
“Sure,”shemutters.
Yep.Ifuckedup.
Irackmybrainforaviablefix.“Wantacoffee?YouneverdidgetafamedJavaJuicecappuccino.”
Atthis,hereyesflickerwithinterest.“Oh.Thatwouldbenice,thanks.”
“Howdoyoutakeit?”
“Onesweetcream,oneIrishcream,andonehazelnut.Thelittleplastictubs.Stiruntildelightfullybeige.”
“Threedifferentcreamers?ThankGodyou’renotdriving,wildthing.”
Aflickerofasmileplaysoutonherfulllips.Reliefwashesoverme.
Becausewehavealongwaytogo,andthelastthingIneedisacrankyco-pilot.NotbecauseIlikehersmile.
“Icomefromalonglineofcoffeemixologists,”sheexplains.“It’sinmyblood.”
Iblink.“Really?”
Shetossesherphoneinthecenterconsole.“God,you’reeasy.No,blendingcreamersisnotafamilylegacy.Mymotherwouldneverbecaughtdeadwithanounceofdairyinhercoffee.Baileys,maybe.Ifyoucancountthat.”
“I’dsayBaileyscountsasdairy.Itmayevenbeaviablesourceofcalcium.”
Hereasylaughreturns.“Yes,I’msurethat’swhypeopledrinkit.Forthenutrients.”
Speakingof.“We’llbeontheroaduntilKansasCity.Doyouwantanyfood?Idon’tplantostopforbreakfastbecauseIwanttobeattheweather,soit’sgasstationfoodorbust.”
Shecradlesherstomach.“I’mokay,thanks.”
“Fullfromallthenot-eatingyoudidattheairport?”
“Yup.Stuffed.”
Herphonespringstolife,vibratingandshoutingForeigner’s“ColdAsIce”attopvolume.Acontactphotoofawomaninahugefloppyhatpopsuponthescreen.
FrancescaBliss.
Iarchabrow.“Nooneonearthtalksonthephonemorethanyou.”
Thehumormeltsoffherface.“Ibettertakethis.”Asshereachesforit,shecatchesmyeye.“Domeafavor:ifI’mstillonthiscallwhenyougetout,pretendtohaveaheartattackorsomethingtogetmeoutofit.”
Ilaugh.
Shedoesn’t.ChapterNine
Cassidy
IanswerassoonasLuke’soutofearshot.
“GoodGracious,Cassidy.You’restrandedandrentingacar?”
Myjawimmediatelyclenches.Asimplehellowouldhavesufficed,butIbrushpastMom’sattitudeasIfeedmycreditcardtothegaspump.“Goodmorning.How’dyouknow?”
“IwokeuptoapanickedtextfrompoorIsabelle.”
DrunkIsabelletextedMom.Great.
“Well,longstoryshort—”
“Heavenforbidyouspareamomenttogiveyourmotherthelongstory.”
“—wewereflyingandsuddenlytheyannouncedalanding,andeveryonewasfreakingout.Thenwehadtowaitwhiletheycameupwithaplan.Andtheplanwasaflightouttoday,whichwasthencanceled.Don’tworry,I’mhandlingit.”Ishovethegaspumpintothegasholewithunnecessarygusto.
“Iknewthatbudgetairlinewouldflyyoutoanearlygrave.Didn’tItellyounottoflyAtlas?Areyoustillattheairport?Oh,youmustbesoanxioustogethome.”
Theedgeinhertonesuggestsshe’sfarmoreanxiousthanIam.I’montheroadwithMerrillLynch’slong-lostson,LukeLynch-Carlisle,andyetit’stheideaofhomethatfillsmewithdread.AtleastLukeisintermittentlynice,whenhe’snottellingmetoemploymyfilter.
Iflinchlikehe’spressingthebruisealloveragain.
Filteryourself.
Didthatmywholelife.IthoughtI’dbeabletostopwhenImovedawayandstartedfresh,butapparentlynot.
“Yes.Totally.Can’twaittogethome.”Iforcethewordsoutthroughmyteeth.
“Sowhat’sthenewplan?”
Momistoplanswhatcatsaretolarge,carpetedtowers:obsessed.Shewantseverydetailofeveryone’sitineraries,atalltimes.TheFBIshouldemployherfortheirmoretediouspeople-trackingendeavors.
“I’mdrivinghomefromMissouri.”
Herlaughgrates.“Youcan’tdrivethatfar.That’sridiculous.IsittoolatetoflyDelta?”
“Itwouldn’thavematteredwhatairlineIchosewiththeweather.AndI’malreadyontheroad,sowhat’sdoneisdone.”
“Ofcourseitmatters.Otherairlinesaren’tmakingemergencylandings.Thisisterribletimingforavoidabletraveldrama.We’realreadyincrisismodeoverhere.”Icanhearherbootingupherbillion-dollarespressomachineshejusthadtohaveafterhernext-doorneighborSylviagotone.“Isabelleishavingameltdowntryingtotakecareofeverythingherself,andMikaelistoobusywithworktohelphisbride-to-be.Shewascountingonyoutodothefinalwalk-throughatthevenuetomorrowwhileshe’satherdressfitting.Iwoulddoitmyself,butIhavetopickupAuntBeaat
Iyankthepumpout,anditdribblesgasontheground.“I’msorry.I’llhandlethingsfromtheroad.I’vegotaphone.”
Myfirstcallwillbetothenailsalontoscheduleappointments.Hopefullyit’snottoolatetogeteveryoneinatonce.
“YoucoulddrivetoKansasCityandgetonaplane.Amajorcarrier,preferably.”
AsifIhaveathousanddollarstothrowatalast-minuteticket.“I’mdoingmybest,”Imuttermiserably.“It’sundercontrol.”
Herexhaleiseternal,floatingthroughtimeandspace,neverbeginningorending.Aninfinitesigh.
She’dloanmethemoney—withstrictrepaymentterms—butit’snotworththecrushingweightofdefeatthatfollows.Acceptingmoneyfromherisamutualtransaction:shehandsmedollars;Ihandherammunition.ItconfirmstoherthatIdon’thaveanemergencybudgetoranysortofdisposableincome.
Ifplansarehercattowers,thenstackedbankaccountsarehercatnip.Beingachoreographerismydreamcometrue,butitdoesn’tpayforaFrancescaBliss-worthylifestyle.Whichsheonlyaffords,Imightnote,withthemoneyshemarriedintowhenshetiedtheknotwithmystepfather,“Riggety”RandHamilton,apharmaceuticalcompanyexecutivewhodressesandactslikeanoiltycooncaricature.She’salwayswantedmetochooseasafercareerwithaclearerupwardtrajectorylikeIsabelle,newlymintedMBA.
EvenifIwantedtoborrowmoneyfromherinapinch,it’dendinalecture.Ifyou’djustchangeyourlifeanddreamsentirely,youcouldaffordwhateveryouwant,andwouldn’titfeelnicetobesecure?
Ihurrytofilltheconversationallullwhilesheundoubtedlyrestockshersupplyofunhelpfulsuggestions.“Everythingwillgetdone.We’vegotplentyoftime.Isabellewillbeokay.”
Mom’slaughisabark.“Hermaidofhonorisstrandedsomewhereandyourcousinsareuselessasbridesmaids.I’mnotsureshe’llbeasunderstandingasyou’reimagining.Bridescannotbeheldresponsiblefortheirlackoflogic.Yourbraingoestomushuntilyouwalkdowntheaisle.You’llsee.Someday.”
Ijotdownamentalnotetobeasemotionalaspossiblesomeday,andblameitonbridehood.
“I’vegottogo.I’mgoingtostartdriving,”Ilie.
“Don’tberidiculous,Cassidy.Youareaterribledriver.Youcan’treallythinkyou’regoingtomakethiswholetripbyyourself?”
Airballoonsinmylungs.Onetime,Irear-endedsomeoneonmywayhomefromhighschool.One.Time.Becausetheyslammedontheirbreaks,andit’sL.A.,alawlesstrafficquagmire.Sure,Iwasonlysixteen.Butnoneofmymistakesareeverforgotten.“I’mmakingthisdrive.I’mtwenty-sixyearsold.Icanhandlemyself.”
NoneedtoclarifyI’mnotalone.Doesn’tchangethefactthatIamtakingcareofbusiness.Inmyownway.
AndhowbraveIam,toriskitallwithastrangerwhohatesgames.Andprobablymostformsofjoy.
“Letmeknowwhenyou’vechangedyourmind.Plentyofairportsbetweenhereandthere.”
Ihitherwiththetonalequivalentoffingerguns.“Willdo.”
“Takecare,Cassidy.”
Ilowerthephonetomylap,exhalingproperlyforthefirsttimeinminutes.NothinglikethewarmvocalembraceofMommyDearest’s“takecare”tomakeagirlwanttoracehome.Notforthefirsttime,IwonderifI’llhavetopryan“Iloveyou”outofhercold,dead,manicuredhands.
AsIthrowmyselfbackinthepassenger’sseat,LukeemergesfromtheLove’sstation.Severalplasticbagsdangleoffhisarms,andheclutchestwolargecoffeecups.Hestepssidewaystoholdopenthedoor.
Anoldermanwithagiantblueslushieinonehand,asodaintheother,andatoddlernippingathisheelsfollowshimout.Thetoddlerdartsunderfoot,andthemanstumbles.Theslushiearcsthroughtheair,rainingblueicealloverthesidewalk.Thecuplandsonitsside,shootingtherestofitscontentsontheconcrete.
Thekiddo’sfacemorphsintoaportraitofpureagony.
Luke’sgazedartsbetweenthepoortoddlerandthepuddle.Hismouthismoving,butIcan’treadhislipsfromthisdistance.
Hejugglesourcupsandthebags,freeingoneofhishandstotaketheman’ssoda.Themanbendstotendtohissobbingchild,whoisnowstandinginthefrozenremainsofhistreat.
Lukeputsallthreeunspilledcupsandhisbagsontopoftheman’sCorolla—parkedrightinfrontofthestore,luckily—andthrowsupafingerbeforerunningbackinside.
Aminutelater,here-emergeswithanewblueslushie.Hekneelsinfrontofthekidanddeliversitwiththeutmostreverence,bothhandscradlingthecup.
Thedustyorganinmychestrattlestolife.
Forsomeonewhoissoclosedoff,he’squicktoleapintoactiontohelppeople.Meincluded,cometothinkofit.
Huh.
IfrownasIshakeoffthebuzzingsensationinmybody.
WhenLukearrivesaminutelaterandhandsmemycoffee,Iquicklytakeasiptoresetmybrain.
Hetwiststoplacehisbagsonthefloorboardbehindus.ThecenterconsoleissonarrowIhavetoleanbacktoavoidanaccidentalmouthfulofhishair.Hisbigbodyoverwhelmsthespace.
“Isthecoffeegood?”heaskswhenhe’sdone.“Tastesasitshould?”
Inod,avoidinghiseye.“Definitely.”
Hemakesagruffnoiseofsatisfaction.
“What’sinthebags?”
“Snacks.”
Iputmycupdowntoturnandstudyhishaul.“Ithoughtyoudidn’tlikesnacks.Youwereveryclearonthatpointattheairport.”
Hetracksmygazetothewell-stockedvendingmachinethatisnowourbackseat.“SureIdo.Whodoesn’tlikesnacks?”
“Butyousaidyoudidn’t!”
Hismouthcurvesintoahalfsmile.“Agreetodisagree.”
Infuriatingman.
Irustlearoundthebags,takinginventory.Acupofgrapes,acottoncandyGo-Gurt,ahard-boiledegg,chips,cheese,donuts…
“Wasn’tsurewhatyouliked.Takewhatyouwant,asyouwantit.”
Mycheeksheat.Issharingfoodathingwedo?
Hestartsthecarandmaneuverstowardtheaircompressor.“Outoforder.Fan-fucking-tastic,”hegrumbles,whippingoutofthespot.“WishIwould’veknownbeforeIgotquarters.Thoughthefactitneededquartersanddoesn’ttakecardsshould’vetippedmeoff—”
“Luke,thisisalotoffood.Ihopeyoudidn’tbuyextraonmyaccount.”
Hisearstingered.“Nah.”
Ahotcocktailslithersthroughmystomach.Gratitude.Hunger.Anacuteawarenessthathe’snowdonefournicethingsinarow—sweatshirt,acarpool,slushie,snacks—whichupsetstheLukeCarlisleschemaIthoughtI’dassembled.
“Thankyou,”Isayquietly.
“Don’twantyoupassingout.”HepokesattheAC.“Thatwouldslowusdown,andIdon’twantBerkeleytoMacemeshouldsheeverfindoutIletyoustarve.”
“Don’tworry.”Itaptherimofhisglasses,andherecoils.“You’vegotbuilt-inshields.”
“Clearlyyou’veneverbeenMaced.”
Isnort.“Whydoyousounddisappointedbythatfact?”
Hejacksthemusicwayupandyells,“Quiettime!”
Seemssomeonecan’tacceptasimplethank-you.
Mystomachachesfromemptiness.Ireturntomybackseatforaging.
Mymouthwatersatthebagofpowdereddonuts,butIoptforproteinfirst.Igrabtheindividuallywrappedhard-boiledeggandswitchonmaid-of-honormode.“I’mgoingtomakeafewcalls.”
“I’dbeshockedifyoudidn’t.YoushouldinvestinAirPodsorsomekindofheadsetsoyoucangohands-free.”
“Andwastethese?”Iflashhimmypalms.“Noway,mister.”
Whenthisfailstogarneraresponse,IdialLushandLatherSalon.
Timetocheckoffthefirstofmanyboxes.
…
Iclickoffthephoneandgroanasmyheadfallsbackagainsttheseat.ThatwaswaymoretimeconsumingthanI’danticipated,butit’sdone.
Appointments:check
LushandLatherwasfull,butsinceeighta.m.tomorrowistheonlytimethebridalpartyand“moms”arefreebetweennowandthewedding,IhadtocallfoursalonsuntilIfoundonethatcouldtakesuchalargegroupatthattime.
IforwardIsabellethebooking,hopingthechangeinsalondoesn’ttriggerameltdown.WhileIawaitherresponse,Iplunkadonutinmymouth.
“Eightpeopleforanailappointment?”Lukesaysinatonethatsuggestshecouldn’tevennameeightpeopleiftherewasarewardontheline.“What’sthatabout?”
Iswallow,contemplatinghowmuchofthetruthheneedstoknow.“Mysisterisgettingmarriedthisweekend.”
“Oh.”Hedrumsthesteeringwheelwithhisfingers.“Awedding.That’sbig.”
“Yes.”
Understatementofthecentury,Iwouldadd,ifIwasn’tfilteringmyself.
Instead,Iflickopenthemirrorandcheckmymouthfordonutdust.Aftermainliningsnacksanddealingwithseveralcurtreceptionists,I’mreadyforabreak.“CanIdrive?”
IglanceatLukeandcatchhiseye.
Hisheadsnapsbacktowardtheroad.
“What,didImisssomecrumbs?”Ipullthemirrorbackdownandrunafingerovermylips.
“No.Imean,Iwouldn’tknow—Youwanttodrive?Areyousure?”
“I’mcertain.Wemayevengettherefaster.”
Hismouthturnsdownatthecorners.“Haveyoueverhadtopayaspeedingticketinastateyoudon’tlivein?Theyoftenhavestrangelawsandrequirements.Notfun.”
Ibarelyclockwhathe’ssayingbecauseI’vezoomedinonhishand,whichhasfinallyretireditstenureonthewheeltorestonhisleg.Ithoughthe’dneverabandonhistrustynine-and-three-o’clockdeathgrip.
Hispantsfithimlikeaglove.Heabsentlyrubshispalmupanddownhisthigh.
Sitnexttosomeonelongenoughandyoustartnoticingthingslikethis.It’seitherobservethesteadyrhythmofhishandorwatchthemottledbrownlandscapeoutthewindow.
Afterfiveindecentsecondsofleg-staring,Idragmyattentionuptohisface.“Yougotit,BuzzKilligen.I’llonlygotwentyoverthelimit.”
“MaybeI’lljustcontinueon,then.Foryourownsafety.”
Iswivelinmyseatasfarasmyseatbeltwillallowmeandpokehiminthearm.Thereiszerogiveinhisbicep,nosparesoftnesswhatsoever.Iretractmyfinger,somehowchastenedbyhismuscle.“Prettyplease?Iatesomuchsugar.Ihaveenergytoburn.”
“Fine.I’llnapsoIdon’tharassyouaboutyourdriving.Becausecustomarily,it’snicetoletthedriverdotheirthingwithoutneedling.Iknowthisprobablysurprisesyou.”Aself-satisfiedsmirkbreaksoutonhisfaceashepullsoffataverydepressing“picnic”stopforourswitch,asifhereallystuckittomewiththatlittlebarb.
Wecirclethecarandtakeournewspots.Thedriver’sseatiswarmfromhim.TheheatcreepsupmybackasIadjusthisentiresetup,fromtheseatpositiontothemirrors.
Iclickmyseatbeltandzipbackontothehighway.Gaspedalcontrolneverfeltsogood.
Flooringit,Isinginmyheadsoasnottobotherhimwhilehetriestonap.AsIcyclethroughafewfavoritesonmyplaylist,theskydarkensfromanunevengraytoamenacinggray.That’llhelpLukefallasleep.
Doesn’tbodewellfortheweatherwe’retryingtoavoid,though.
I’minternallysolo-ingMariahCareywhenthefirstdroplethitsthewindshield.Istartle,returningmyrighthand—mycoffee-holdinghand—backonthewheel.
“Guesswedidn’tbeattherain,”Isayundermybreath.
Lukeun-reclineshisseat.
“Sorry,Ididn’tmeantowakeyou,”Iaddinarush.“I’msureyou’reexhausted.”
“I’mfine.”Hefishesforhisphone.“Wasn’tsleeping.I’llcheckthedoppler.”
Asparkofuneasecatchesinmystomachwhenhemakesahummingsound.“It’sspottyinthisgeneralarea.Hardtotellwhatwillactuallyhitussincewe’reinmotion.It’llprobablybefine.”
Aclapofthunderpunctuateshisspeculation.
Thehairsonmyarmjumptoattention.Afewfatraindropsstrikethewindshield.Itightenmygrip,movingmyhandstoLuke’snine-and-threepositioning.
Thosewereawfullysharpandloudforraindrops.Andtheydidn’tsplatter.
Hail.
“Areyoucomfortableinastorm?”heasks.“Doyouneedtopullover?”
“IthinkI’mfine.”
Theslightshakeinmyvoiceisfromthecaffeine,notfear.Becausethisisnobigdeal.ItoldMomIcouldhandledrivinghome,andthatincludesalittleinclementweather.
Ourphonesstartominouslybeeping.Notevenbeeping—screeching.Warnings,ofsomekind.
Isawmylipbetweenmyteeth.“Whatisthat?What’swrong?”
Lukechecksthealertandswiftlyburiesbothphonesinthecenterconsole.“It’sokay.Thebadstuffisalittlesouthofhere.”
Atonce,theskyunzips.Marble-sizehailfallsoutinanavalanche,butitcontinuesaftertheinitialonslaught.Inthetimeittakesmetodrumupsomepositiveself-talk,thestormgainsstrength.It’samightybeastofathing,unloadingitsrage.
Theballsoficegetbigger.Thepeltingismerciless,pingingthewindshield.Itwistonthewipers,buttheydonogood.Theyaren’tfastorstrongenough.
“Luke,”Isaywarily.“Whatifitdentsthecar?”
“Don’tworryaboutthat.”
Mywholebodyistense,andIleanintothewheel.
“Whatdoyouneed?Doyouwanttoswitchatthenextexit?”
“No!”Iblurt.“Icandothis.Ihaveto.”
“Whydoyouhaveto?”
Ipressmymouthshut.Filter,filter,filter.
“Cassidy.”Histoneiscoaxing.“Why?”
“MymotherthinksIcan’thandlethisdrive,allright?”Isnap.“ThatIcan’tgoonaroadtripbymyself—shedoesn’tknowaboutyou.ButIcan.I’mperfectlycapable.”
He’squietforafewpainfulsecondsasmyadmissionreverberatesbetweenus.“You’reperfectlycapable.Butforwhatit’sworth,it’sokaynottowanttogotowarwithhail.Thatdoesn’tmeanyouaren’tstillmakingthetrip.”
Igrindmyteethforasecondbeforeacquiescing.“Maybe.”
“Andyourmomisn’there,”headds.“AndthankGod,becausewherewouldshesit?Youwould’vesmotheredhertodeathwithyourreclinedseatandburiedherinsnacks.”
Atightlaughworksitswayoutofmymouth,againstallodds.
Butthereliefisshortlivedasthepeltinggetslouder,acrescendothatmimicstheriseofmypanic.Myheartdoesthewrongkindofdanceinmychest,missingstepsandfallingoveritself.
Another,louderburstofthundervibratesthecar.
“Ohno.”Isuckinashallowbreath.“Thisisbad.”
Thecreepingwarmthofembarrassmentpilesontomybreakdown.I’mlosingitoveradamnstorminrealtime,failingtostaycalm,andhe’swatchingmedoit.
Luke’stonedropsintoasoothingtimbre,hiswordscurlingaroundmelikeanembrace.“It’sokay.You’redoingjustfine.Niceandsteady.”
“IfeellikeIcan’tsee.Icanbarelymakeoutanyone’sbrakelights.AmIgoingtoofast?”Isqueezethewheelharderasmyhandsstarttoshake.“WhatdoIdo?”
“Whatdoyouwanttodo?You’reincontrol.”
Painradiatesfrommyclenchedjaw.“IthinkIneedtopullover.”
“Okay.Doyouwanttotryandwaitforanexit?”
Apelletoficecracksthewindshield.Myentirebodyflinches.“OhGod!Now.Iwanttopulloverhere.”
“Talkthroughit,”heurges.“It’llhelp.”
Icanonlyhopehe’sright.ChapterTen
Luke
Ifliponthehazardlights.“You’vegotthis.”
Cassidy’svoicequivers.“I’mslowingdown.”Thecarlurches,thensmoothsout,losingspeed.“AndwhenIgettoabouttwenty,I’mgoingtoeaseintothegrass…notgoingtojerkthewheeltoomuchsoIdon’toverdoitandhavetoovercorrect…”
Shetwiststhewheeljustenoughtogetusofftheroad.Wehittheuneven,grassyshoulderandslowtoaverybumpystop.
Butasafeone.
Shethrowsthecarintoparkandmoveshertremblinghandstoherfaceasthestormragesaroundus.ThesymphonyoficeonglassandmetalissoloudIcanbarelyhearmyselfthink.It’slikesomeoneisholdingatincanofcoinsnexttomyearandshakingtheshitoutofit.
Icranemynecktogetabetterlookather.She’spalerthanusual.“Youokay?”
“Mortified,actually,”shegrumblesthroughherfingers.“Ican’tbelieveIfreakedoutlikethat.”
“Anyonewould’ve.Hailisnojoke,andthisisamajorhighway.Butyouhandledit.”
Shethrowsherarmtowardthewindshield.“Thecarisprobablycoveredindents.Iftheglasscracked,imaginewhatthehoodlookslike.”
“I’mdoublycoveredonthisthingthroughmyinsuranceandtherentalcompany’ssupplementalpolicy.Don’tworry.”
Herhandsdroptoherlap,andsheblinksatme.“You’regoodinacrisis.Calm,cool,collected.AndIwasnoneofthosegoodC-words.Justdramatic.”
“Ididnothing,”Iargue.“Gettingusofftheroadwasallyou.Tenoutoftenforstyleandexecution.”
Shefacesthewindowandletsoutasoundsomewherebetweenagrumbleandalaugh.I’mhitwithanunexpectedurgetotiltherfacemywaytoseeifshe’ssmiling.
“I’measilyfrazzled.SometimesIfeellikeeveryoneelseisaperiodandI’manexclamationpoint.CanItellyousomethingelse?”Shetwistsinherseat,atentativenesstoherstare.“Iwenttwenty-fouryearswithoutdrivinginanythingmorethanadrizzle.”
“Ah.VerySouthernCaliforniaofyou.”
“YoucantakethegirloutofL.A.,butyoucan’ttakeL.A.outofthegirl.Anyway,thefirsttimeIevendroveinproperrainwasafterImovedtoAsheville.AndwhenIwasdrivingyesterdaytotheairport,Iwhite-knuckleditthewholeway,becauseofthesnow.That’spartlywhyIwassotensewhenyouandIfirstmet.”
“Youhiditsowell,”Isayevenly.“Allthistime,Ithoughtforsureyouwereastormchaser.”
Sheshovesmyarm.Mybodywelcomesthepressureofthehit,likeitwaswaitingforit.“Toosoon.”Abeatpassesbeforesheadds,“Idolikeit.TheweatherinAsheville,Imean.It’smoreunpredictablethanCalifornia,whichmakeslifeinteresting.Whichdoyouprefer?NorthCarolinaorLosAngeles?”
Istrokemychin,contemplatingthebestwaytomaneuveraquestionthatwillundoubtedlybreedmore.“IliveinRaleigh.Maybeaslightlydifferentclimate,butIseeyourpoint.NorthCarolinahasitsappeal.”
“Butdoesitappealtoyou?”shepresses.“Whichdoyoulikebetter?”
“Ilikethemequallyfordifferentreasons.”
Sheliftsherchin,flashingthedelicateslopeofherjaw.“Icallbullcrap.Nobodylikestwothingstheexactsameamount.Ipreferthemountains,butmydogisanoceanboythroughandthrough.”
Istiflealaugh.“Ohyeah?Didhetellyouthat?”
“Thereyougoevadingthequestion.”Herheadtipsbackandshegroansattheceiling.“Youdonotmakethiseasy.”
“What?”
“Thewholehaving-a-conversationthing.Whensomeonesharessomethingpersonalwithyou,it’snicetogetbacksomethinginreturn.Atidbit.Ananecdote.Asnippet.”
Myfirstinstinctistolaugh.Notbecausewhatshe’ssayingisn’treasonable—I’mfamiliarwiththesocialconventionsofconversation,I’mnotacavedweller—butbecausetheideathatany“tidbit”ofminewouldbeevenremotelyinterestingtothewomansittingbesidemeissoridiculousIalmosthavetolaugh.
EvenCassidy’scoffeeorderisinteresting.WhatwouldItellagirllikeher?
WouldItellheraboutmyoffice?Thespaceissmallandwindowless,withbeigewallsandbrowncarpet.AtinyspaceheaterhumsinthecornerallyearroundbecauseRogeliokeepstheplacecolderthanamorgue.Fascinatingstuff.
ShouldItellheraboutthetinycactus-shapedcatgymIbought,eventhoughI’mnotsureGroot,thegeriatricstraywhosleepsonmyporch,willevenuseit?OrhowIwon’tgetalive-inpetbecauseitwouldn’tbefairwhenIleavesomuch,oftenatrandom,toflyhome?
CouldItellheraboutmyfamily?
Myjawclenches.No.Thatneverendswell.
Inhighschool,ImadethemistakeofbeinghonestwithpeopleIthoughtweremyfriends.Iopenedupaboutmymom,heraddictions,andherhealthconditions.Iwashonestaboutmydadabandoninghisfamilyandrunningoffwithhistwenty-one-year-oldcoworker,andtherealreasonwhyIdidn’tparty.Itwasassimplethenasitisnow:mysisterandMomneededmetohavemywitsaboutme.Mymomwasalwaysonedrinkawayfromadiabeticdisaster,andSophiewaslostandneededsomeonetoholdheraccountablesoshestayedfocusedonschool.Icouldn’tberesponsibleforthemandbeamess,too.Itwasoneortheother,andImademychoice.
Thosefriendsdidn’tjustusetheinformationagainstmewhentheyspreadrumorsevenmoreviciousthanthealreadyroughtruth—theyuseditagainstmysister,teasingher,icingheroutofeveryclique.Everyevent.
Keepingmypersonallifepersonalwould’vesparedSophiealotofheartachebackthen.Thatguilthaspoisonedmeforyears.
Andnow,privateisjustthewayIlive.Apartfrommyverysmallcircle,Itellpeopleasmuchastheyneedtoknow,andnothingmore.
Cassidy’sfacefalls.“Sorry.Iknownoteveryoneisanoversharerlikeme.”Shetapsagentlerhythmonthecenterconsole,thenturnshergazetothewaningstorm.Thehailhasmovedon,leavingthefaintestdrizzlebehind.
Thisoneisclearlyasocialcreature.I’vegottotellhersomething.It’snotlikeI’mgivingherakidney.
“Anyway,thanksfortalkingmethrough—”
“Ifthequestionismountainsversusbeach,mountainswin.Handsdown.OceanwaterisloadedwithGodknowswhat.Sandistrash.LasttimeIvoluntarilywenttothebeachforfun,IgotsandinmycorneaandwasbusyflushingmyeyewithnolessthansevenbottlesofdrinkingwaterwhileWillandtherestofthegroupplayedbeachvolleyball.WhenIfinallyregainedmysight,Igotsmashedinthefacewitharogueserveandmyglassesbroke.There.That’smytidbit.Satisfied?”
Abeatofsilencefollowsthis.
Andthen,shegiggles.Thelivelysoundfloatsthroughthecar.“Kindof,yeah.”
“It’snotthatfunny.”
“It’shilarious.”
“Jesus,”Igrumble,runningmyhanddownmyface.
“Aw,don’tbeatyourselfup.”Hereyesshinewithplayfulnessasshetiltsherheadtotheside,leaningitagainstherheadrest.“I’dprobablyrubsandinmycorneatogetoutofbeachvolleyball,too.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“That’snotatallwhathappened.Thepointis,Iprefermountains.”
“Yoursecret’ssafewithme.I’llneveraskyoutoplayasand-basedsport.”Herteasingtonefadesawayasherlipsliftintoasoftsmile.“We’llgettoseetheRockies.Guessthistripwon’tbeatotalbust,right?”
Irackmybrainfortherebuttal,buthergazepinsme,andIsuddenlyforgettheimpulsetofight.Somethinginhereyesrendersmecompletelyuseless.
Themomentstretchesliketaffy,onandonwithoutbreaking,untilhersmilefadesandwe’rebothjuststaring.Hasitbeenonesecondorthree?More?Somethingplucksastiffstringinmychest,andthevibrationsmovethroughme,leavingawake.
Igraspforthehandlebeforethequietcansinkitsclawsinanydeeper.“I’llbeback.”
Myfeettouchdownonthesoft,dampearth.Thesmellofwetgrass,themisthangingintheair,andthewhooshofpassingcarsisaseffectiveashuffingsmellingsaltsforbringingmebackfromthebrinkofwhateverthatwas.
Alotofeyecontactiswhatthatwas.
Toofuckingmuch.
I’mhalfwaytothetreelinewhenthecrunchofgrasssoundsbehindme.Iglanceovermyshoulder.
Cassidyisnowdrapedinmyhoodie,joggingtocatchup.Shetrotspast,andmyattentionfallstotheexactspotthehoodieends,justbeneathherass.Someprimalpartofmestirsfromadeadsleep,seeingherinmyclothes.
Isnuffoutthefeelingbeforeitcantakehold.
“Grabbedthisoffyoursuitcasesinceitcouldpouragainandyouaren’tusingit.”Sheliftsherarmssoherhandscanpokeoutofthelongsleeves.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iforcemyselftolookaway,becausethewaythehoodieswallowsherjustrightisnoneofmybusiness.“I’musingthesetrees.”
“Ineedtousethesetrees,too.Idrankenoughwaterandcoffeetopowerachoir.Can’tyoudoyourbusiness…Idon’tknow…bythecar?Andletmegointhere,forprivacy?”
Ithrowupmyarms.“Letyougointotheforestalone?Wheretherecouldbewildanimals?”
Shecackles.“Forestisastretch.It’sjustabunchoftrees.”
“Shallwegoogleforestwhenwereturntothecar?Guaranteeyouit’llmentiontrees.”
“Whatdoyouthinklivesoffthishighway,Luke?Bigcats?Bears?”
Ishrug.“It’spossible.”
“Andwhatexactlyareyougoingtodoifyouseeajunglecatinthesewoods?Sellitinsurance?”
“Idon’tsellinsurance.ButIdohavebusinesstoattendto.SoI’llbeoverhere.”Ithrustanarmtowardarandomentrypointtothewoods.“Youstayoverthere”—Inodatnowhereinparticular—“andeveryonewins.”
“Idon’tknowaboutwinning.Haveyouevertriedtoshimmydowntightjeansinthewoods?Whilewearingboots?”
Iturnmybackandcontinuemymarch.“No.”
AndIcoulddowithoutthevisual.ChapterEleven
Cassidy
“Faceawayfromme!”IhollerasIstepintothenot-forest.
“Youfaceawayfromme!”heyellsback.
Thetemperaturedropsdramaticallyintheshade.Thecanopyshimmiesandshakesoverhead,allowingfaintdappledlighttopassthroughandoccasionallyreleasinggathereddropletsofmoisture.Likealittleafter-storm.Anencore.I’dgetsweptupinthesimplebeautyofitifmybladderwasn’tthreateningme
Instead,Imovedeeperintothewoods,treadingtowardthefattesttreeinmylineofsighttosquatbehind.Whenit’sallsaidanddone,onesingularthoughtpossessesmymindasIworkmyjeansbackupmylegs:gratitudeforlegstrengthandgoodbalance.
AsIslidemybuttonintoplace,arustlingsoundfiftyorsofeetawayjoltsme.Ipeekmyheadaroundthetree.
Lukeisnotjumping,notevenhopping,butperformingsomesortofhigh-kneesportingdrillthroughthewoods.
IstiflealaughasImovehisdirection.“Whattheheckareyoudoing?”
“Scaringthesnakes.”
Mygazefloatstotheground.“Whatsnakes?”
“Youhonestlythinktherearen’tsnakesinthisunderbrush?”
“IcannotemphasizeenoughhowlittleI’vethoughtabouttheunderbrush.Thestormprobablyscaredthemintohiding,right?”
“Ibetthey’reallcomingoutnow.”
Istiflealaugh.He’ssoridiculousit’salmostcute.“Whywereyoustompinginthisdirection?”
“Iwascomingtofindyousowecouldgobacktothecar.”
Warmthsneaksupandsettlesoverme.Healmostthrewthecardooroffitshingesfromhalfasecondofactualconversationwithme,butatleasthe’snotlettingmegetlostinthisforest.Propsforthat.
WhichIwillstacknexttothepropsheearnedforsoothingtheever-lovingcrapoutofmewhileIwasdriving.Thestrangestpart?Hedidn’tevenseemfazedbymyineptitudeorlikehewasjudgingmeforit.
Hejust…helped.
Thechillyairsparksgoosebumpsonmyskin,eveninsidemyclothes.“Iwould’vefoundmywayout.Icanseethecarfromhere.”
Aswemakeourwaythroughtheunderbrush,hisheadstaystilteddownsohecanappraisetheground.
“Sosnakes,huh?Isthatafearofyours?”Iasklightly.IhadtodraghissandycorneastoryoutofhimsoI’mlikelytoreceivesomeresistanceonthis,butIcan’tsquashthecompulsiontoask.
Hestrokeshisjaw.“Notafraid.Ijustdon’tgooutofmywaytoengageanyanimalthatcan”—heemitsashudderingsound—“dothat.Dowhattheydo.Withtheirjaws.”
Ican’thelpit.Ilaugh.“You’rescaredofsnakes.”
Hethrowsmealethallook.“I’mnot—”
Igrabhisbiceptostophimandjumpinhispath,body-blockinghimasIhoverafingernearhismouth.“Shh.Stop.Didyouhearthat?”
Hisarmflexesbeneathmyhand.“What?”
“Almostlike…”Iblinkfastandsuckinatinybreathtoreallysellthefarce.“Slithering.”
Theglowofthelightfilteringthroughthecanopycastshimingoldenreliefashestaresdownatme,aquestioninglookinhiseyes.Idon’tthinkI’dnoticedthewarmhazelcolorbefore,bothgreenandbrownenoughtobelongouthere,amongthetrees.
Mygazelingersonthesubtlelaughlinesnearhiseyes,hidinginplainsight,beforetracingthesmoothlineofhistanneck,allthewaytowhereitdisappearsintohiscollar.
Hisattentionshiftstomyhand,whichisstillgrippinghisbroadbicep,andbacktomyface.Itpassesoverme,neverpausinginoneplace,slidingovermyface,downmyshoulders,uptothetopofmyhead.Suddenlymyhairfeelsasaliveastherestofme,aconduitofthestrangeenergypulsingthroughmybody.
Ireleasemyholdfast,palmtingling.“Snakes!Iwasjust…”
WhatwasIdoing?Joking?
Hisgazeshiftspastme,andinaninstant,hisentirefacetransformsintounadulterated,slack-jawedshock.
IthappenssofastIdon’thavetimetothinkorcalibrate,justafractionofasecondtowheelaround.
CRASH
Ourlittleblackcar,plowedbyasemi-truck.
It’ssobrightandvivid,sosurreal,itplaysoutlikeacomicbookcometolife.
Itsoarsasifweightlessacrossthegrass,spinningafullthreehundredandsixtydegrees,snacksandacoffeecupflyingouttheopenwindows.
Crunchingintoabankoftrees.Collapsinginonitselflikeanaccordion.
AndthenWHOOSH.
Itignitesinablazeofglory.
Istumblebackwardandmyheelsnagsonavine.Lukecatchesmewithanarmaroundmywaist.Heholdsmeupaspureshocksnatchesmyvoiceboxandlocksitinavisegrip.Itrytotalkbutnothingcomesout,asifthewindwasknockedoutofme.Myhandfliestomythroat.
“Areyouokay?”Heroughlytiltsmybodysohecanseeme.
“I’m—”Islidemyhandovermychest.I’mbreathing.Icantalk.“I’mokay.”
Hekeepsagriponmyupperarm.“Weneedtogetoutofthewoods.Maybethetreeswillcatchonfire,I’mnotsure.But,shit,wecan’tgettooclosetotheroad,either.Obviously.”
“Holdon.”Shockstrainsmyvoice.“Weshouldn’tgocloser.Thecarcouldexplode.It’sfullofgas,right?Isthathowitworks?”
Hedragshishanddownhisface,eyesalightwithconcern.“Ineedtochecktoseeifthetruckdriverisokay.”
Iglancedowntheroad.“It’sparked.That’sgoodright?Theymustbeokayiftheymadetheconsciousdecisiontopulloverandpark.”
Or…
Fearroilsmygut.“Whatiftheyaren’tokay,Luke?ShouldIcall911?”Ipatmypockets.Mystomachdropsallthewaytothewetearth.“Idon’thaveaphone.”
Hepatshis.Hisjawfallsopen.“Idon’t,either.I’vegotnothing.”
Thisisbad.
Luketakesoffinafastwalk.
“Wait!”Icry,chasingbehind.
Hepivotsandliftsahand.“Stayatthetreeline.It’ssafer.Idon’twantyounearanyofthis.”
Icastadesperatelookatthesteadyblazeofthecar.“I’mnotjustgoingtostandherewhileyougotowardacarthat’sonfire!”
“Yes”—heclosesthegapbetweenusandanglesmybodytowardtheroad—“youare.”
Hecantellmetostayallhewants.It’snotgoingtostopmefromdoingwhatneedstobedone.
Andrightnow,weneedtomakesurethedriverisokay.ChapterTwelve
Luke
Thecabdoorofthesemispringsopen.
Aforcefulbreathshootsoutofmymouth.
Good.Thedrivermustbeokay.
Butasquicklyasthereliefcomes,itfadesasCassidyignoresmyinstructionandstompstowardthescene.
Herinsistenceongettingclosertoaburning,explosion-riskofacarisabouttobemyvillainoriginstory.
“Stop.”Ireconfiguretheplanonthespot.“Iwaswrong.Weshouldlethimcometous.Heknowswhattodointhesesituations.”
Thedriverapproaches.Hisscratchyyellcompeteswiththewetbrakesofrubberneckerstryingtocatchalookatthewreckage.“Icalled911.Theysaidit’dbetentofifteenminutes.You’dbesafertostandbackfromthehighway.”
Angersurgesinmychestasheclimbsbackinhistruck.“Safer.Goodfuckingjoke,guywhocreamedourcar.”
Cassidynods,chintrembling.
“Hey.”Isqueezehershouldersandrunmypalmsupanddownslowly,rackingmybrainforwhattodo.Orsay.Myinstinctsscream,Comforther,jackass!
Allthatcomesoutofmymouthis,“We’resafe.”
Theunsaidtruth—wealmostweren’t—hangsbetweenus.
Residualterrorworksitswaythroughmybloodstream.Jesus,whatifshe’dbeeninthatcarwhileIstormedofftogetspace?Shewould’vebeenalonebecauseIcan’thandlealittleeyecontact.ThethoughtsparksdisgustanddreadsostrongItakeastepback.Ifsomethinghappenstothisgirlonmywatch,I’llneverbeabletolivewithmyself
Ireleaseherarms,tuggingmyhairattherootuntilithurts.Guiltrearslikeamonsterinmygut.Ishould’veswitchedwithherassoonasshesaidshewasuncomfortable.“Fuck.Ishouldn’thaveletyoukeepdrivingoncethestormhit.Ishouldhavetakenoverandkeptgoing.”
Cassidytipsherheadbackandatinywhimperescapeshermouth.“Thisismyfault.Ipanickedandpulledover.AndthenIparkedtooclosetotheroad.”
“No.Attheveryleast,Ishould’vehelpedyougettoanexitsoIcould—”
“Thisisnotyourfault,”shecries,eyeswild.“Stoptryingtoshifttheblamefromwhereitbelongs.Ididthistous!AndnowweliveonthesideoftheroadinruralMissouri.Thisforestisourhomenow.Wegettolivewiththesnakes!”
Ihuff-gruntandshakemyhead.Irritatingwomanwon’tletmesufferinpeace.Weglareateachotheruntilourchestsarerisingandfallinginsync.
Suddenly—withthespeedofasemicrashingintoaparkedroadsidevehicle—theflamesengulfingourcaramplifyinaburstoflightandnoise,asifsomeonedouseditinlighterfluidandthrewamatch.
IstareoverCassidy’sheadinhorrorasthelastreservesofmyhopeforturningthisarounddieinmychest.“Must’vereachedthegastank.”
Sheburstsintolaughter.“Ohmygod.”
Igapeather.“Whatthehellissofunny?”
“Ourcarisonfire.Lookatit,Luke.Ourcar.Is.On.Fire.”Shedoublesover,clutchinghergut,herbodyshaking.“AndIwasworriedaboutalittlehaildamage.It’slikestressingaboutsplitendsandsomeonecomesalongandchopsyourheadoff!”
Great.Nowshe’shavinganervousbreakdown.
Thecarisalmostasmokingmemorybythetimesirenswailinthedistance.Afiretruckfinallyswoopsin,followedaminutelaterbyapoliceofficer.Thefiresquadsurgesintoaction,hosingtheflickeringremains.
It’sablurofexplaining,takingorders,andstayingoutoftheway.Thepoliceofficercallsthreetowcompaniesuntilshefinallyfindsonewithanavailabletruck.Aswewait,Cassidypacesaholeinthegroundattheforest’sedge.
Atowtruckeventuallyarrivestwenty-fiveminuteslatertotowthecarwecannolongerusetoGodonlyknowswhere.
Idon’tknowexactlyhowmuchtimepassesstarttofinish—aboutanhour,Isuspect—butwhenthedriverloadsourdemolishedpulpofacartothebackofhisvehicleanddeclaresourlikewisepulpy,destroyedbelongingsinaccessible,Ifallintosomekindofblackfuckingholewheretimeistheleastofmyproblems.
Nophone.Nostuff.Nowallet
Cassidy’svoicehitsashrillnoteasshewhipsherattentionbetweenthetowtruckdriverandthewreckage.“You’resayingit’sallgone?Wecan’tevengetinsidetosearcharound?”
Igrimace.Thereisnoinsidewhenitcomestothecar.YetCassidyisstaringatitwithunmistakablehopeinhereyes,likeitmighthaveasecretdoorthat’llleadustoourperfectlyintactbelongings.
Thedriver,whoseoil-smearednametagreadsColto,adjustshiscap.“’Fraidnot,Red.Unless—wereyoujoking?Ifso,that’sagoodone.”Hisshouldersriseandfallashechuckles.“Anyway,sorryabouty’all’scar.Reckonthatputsadamperonyourday.”
Cassidyflattensherhair.“Kidding…right.Totally.Thanksforloadingitup.”Shepursesherlipsforasecondbeforecastingsaddoe-eyesmywayandloweringhervoice.“We’resoscrewed.”
Panicisacascade,startinginmyheadwhereIthinkaboutthevastandvariedwaysinwhichwe’refucked,flowingdownmytorsotowreakfreshhavoconmyorgans,andsettlinginmylegs.“I’mgoingtofigurethisout.”
Cassidysighs.“Thesemibarelytookanydamage.Hedroveofflikeitwasnobigdeal,allinaday’swork.How’doursgetsodamnruinedwhenallhehadwasabentbumper?”
“Fire’lldothat,”Coltointerjects.Thepotentsmelloforangedegreaserwaftsoffofhimashegesturesbroadlytowardthehighway.“Pluscarsaremadetocrumple.Tincanswithwheels,really.”
Prettysurecarsaremadefordriving,butIkeepmymouthshut.
Cassidytiltsherheadhisway,offeringhimapolitesmile.“Thankyou.Noted.”
Thepoliceofficerstrutsourway,murmuringintoherwalkie-talkie.Shelowersitasshecomestoastopinfrontofme.Mywearyreflectionstaresbackatmefromthelensesofherpolarizedsunglasses.“I’maboutdonehere.Willyoutwobeheadingtotherepairshop?”
IfIdidn’tfeeldefeatallthewaytomymarrow,theweaksoundofmyvoicemight’vecaughtmeoffguard.“I’mnotsurethere’sanythingforusthere,sincethere’snothinglefttorepair.Wouldeitherofyoubeabletocallusataxi?OrloanusaphonesoIcanmakethecall?”
“I’llgiveyouarideintotown,”Coltooffers.“Whereareyoulookingtogo?”
Greatquestion.
“HowfararewefromKansasCity?”Ishovemyhandsinmypockets.Notwopocketshaveeverbeenemptier.Imightaswellbenaked.
“Twentyorsomilessouthofcitylimits.”
“Okay.We’lltaketheride,right?”IglanceatCassidy,whoiswatchingthisexchangewithherarmsstretchedoverhead,fingerstwined.
Shemeetsmyeyeandnodsquickly.
IturnbacktoColto.“Where’syourshop?”
“Aboutfiveminutesfromtheheartofdowntown.Plentyofcarrentalspotsaround,orwe’vegotdecentpublictransitifthat’smoreyourspeed.”
“Great,Ithink—”
“Oh!”Cassidybreaksintoajog,hijackingmyattention.Colto’sheadalsoturnstofollowher.
Shecomestoasuddenstopandreachesforsomethingintheovergrowngrass.
“Pretzels!”ShehoistsabagofRoldGoldsintheair.“Ourcardidn’tsurvive,buttheseguyssomehowdid.Bag’snotevenbroken.Pretzelsarethefoodoftheapocalypse.Moveover,Twinkies.”
Colto’sheartylaughstretchesonandon.“Thatyourgirl?”
“No.”Itdartsoutofmymouthfastandhard.“Friendofmine.”
“Well,yourfriendisasmartcookie,keepinghereyespeeledforfood.Goodsurvivalinstincts.Mytruckisstockedwithdeerjerkyforemergencies—you’llseesoonenough.I’mgoingtodoafinalcheck,makeacalltotheshop,andI’llmeetyoutwointhetruck.”
ImovetowardCassidyasheperformsaninspectionofthejunkheapformerlyknownascar
Thedeepwheezeofapassingsemimakesusbothflinch.Shetearsopenthepretzelbag.“Howarewegoingtosurvivewithoutourstuff,Luke?”
BeforeIhaveachancetoanswer,hergazefallstothefoodinherhand.
“Oh,here.YouneedthesemorethanIdo.Ihadsixofthosedonuts.”Shethruststhebagatme,andhalfthestashfallsout.
“Youhadsixtinydonutsabouttwohoursago.That’shardlyafeast.Eatthethreeremainingpretzels.Thefirstthingweneedtodoiscallourbanksandfigureouthowtogetnewcards.”
Shegasps.“Thebank!”Shetwistsatthewaisttolookatherassandplungesherhandintoherbackpocket.“Yes!I’vegotmycreditcard.Andmylicense.Istuckthemthereontheplaneandforgottoputthembacktomywallet.”
“That’sreallygoodnews.IfyoudecideyouwanttoboardaplaneinKansasCity,you’llbeabletowithanID.”
Herfacefalls.“What?Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Ishrug,squintingtowardtheskyline.“Imean,afterthismessIassumethatyou’llbelookingforalternatewaystogettoCalifornia.”
“Alternateways?”Shecrossesherarms,andanotherpretzelfallsoutofthebag.“Areyougettingonaplane?”
“No.Theideaofitstill—”Iforcemymouthshutandshakeitoff.Ijustwatchedourcargetdestroyedinawaythatmakesvideogameslookrealistic,yetsomehowthethoughtofaplanestillsendsmypulseonarampage.Ican’tavoiditforlong,andI’llneedtofigureouthowtocope,butnottoday.“NowayamIgettingbackonaplane.”
Sheprodsthegrasswithhershoe.“Asame-daytickettoLAXisgoingtocostafortune.Plus,Idoubtthecrewshortageorplanes-that-aren’t-brokenshortagefixeditselfinamatterofhours.Andwiththeweathertheselasttwodays,everythingisamess.That’swhyIwantedacarinthefirstplace.”
“When’sthewedding?”
“Sunday.RehearsalandbacheloretteeventsareSaturday,though.”Shetapsherchin.“Okay,let’ssee.ObviouslytherearenoUbersthattravelacrossthecountry.There’sgottobeacheapandefficientalternative.WhataboutaGreyhoundbus?”
Ishudder.“I’vebeenononeofthose,anditwasreallyuncomfortable.Thebathroomwasbrokenthewholetimeandthedriverwaserratic.Terribleexperience.”
“Fine.Whataboutatrain?Wecansleepthishellishnightmareoffwhileweride.”
Ihavenotrainexperiencetopullfrom.“Thatmightwork.”
Shenods,enthusiasmbuildinginhereyes.“Okay.Yes.Thisisagoodidea.Nomoreplanes.Nomorecars.BetterthanaGreyhound.Isaywegoforit.”
We.Idon’tevenhaveacreditcard.
Thebeginningofaheadachetwingesbehindmyeyes.Ipinchthebridgeofmynosebeneathwheremyglassessit.“Ican’tbuyatrainticketuntilIgetmybankstuffsortedout.Andwedon’tevenknowiftherearetrainsthatrunfromKansasCitytoL.A.”
“EverythingrunstoL.A.I’llbuyyourticket.Youcanpaymebackafteryougeteverythingfixed.OryoucanVenmome.”
“How?Wedon’thavephonestologon.Idon’tevenhaveVenmo,forthatmatter.”
“Whodoesn’thaveVenmo?Howdoyoupayfordrinkswhenyougooutwithfriends?”
“Venmoistheleastsecureformofmonetary—Nevermind.ThelasttimeIwentoutfordrinkswaswithWillaroundayearandahalfago,andIpaid.IfIwanttodrinkinRaleigh,mybossRogeliokeepsahandleofJimBeaminhisdesk,andourofficefridgeisalwaysstockedwithCoke.”
“Wow.CongratsonscoringajobwithDonDraper.Anyway,I’mattachedtothetrainidea.”
“Good.Thenyoushoulddoit.”
Hereyebrowsknittogether.“We,Luke.Weshould.”
“Ijusttoldyou;Idon’thaveanymoney.”
“AndItoldyouI’dtakecareofit!”
Ishakemyhead,tooworntocensormyself.“Doesthatoffendyouorsomething?ThatIwastryingtoofferyouanout?”
“Anout?Ofwhat?”
Ithrowonehandintheair.“Ofthis!Ofthehellwe’vebeenliving.”
Shetakesastepcloser,crossingherarms.“I’mnotjustgoingtoditchyou.I’vegotthemoneythatcanhelpusrightnow.Unlessyouwantmeto,thenobviouslyIwillleaveyoualone.”
Herwordsarelikearecordscratch.Leavemealone?She’saskingifIwanttoseparate?“Wait,what—”
“Forgetit.Let’sjustgo.”Sheturnstowardthetruck,andherbagspillsoutatleastfivemorepretzels,litteringthegrasswithtwists.
Iswipethebagfromherhandbeforeshecanlitteranyfurther.
Shesnatchesitbackandstalksoff.
Wereachthepassenger’ssideofthetowtruck,andherheadtiltsupatthebehemoth.Hershouldersrollbackasshemarchestowardthedoor.
Imovepastherandgrabthehandle.WhenIyankitopen,bothsidesofColto’sspeaker-phoneconversationspillout.
“Needaboost?”Iask.
Cassidy’ssmileisthefakestthingI’veeverseen.“I’veclimbedintoatruckbefore,thanks.”
Againstmywill,Iimagineherclimbingintoadude’sliftedpickupatsomebullshitAshevillemusicfestival.“I’msureyouhave.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Whyareyoubeinglikethis?”
“I’mnotbeinganything,”Ilie.Adrenalinebarrelsthroughmybodyasshedissectsmewithhergaze.“Weren’tyouclimbingin?”Imakeashooinggesturewithmyarm.“Goahead.Don’twanttokeepourdriverwaiting.”
Herexpressiondarkens,andshestepssocloseshehastotiltherheaduptomeetmyeye.Mygazefallstothatmouthsheinsistsonrunning,andIgritmyteeth.“I’llgetinwhenI’mgoodandready.Gotit?”
Heatlicksthebackofmyneck.Apowerfulurgetosmotherhermouthwithminegrabsmebythethroat.TheimpulseissoabruptIjerkbackward.Icoverthemotionbygrabbingtheedgeofthedoor.“Gotit.”
Murmuringsomethingthatsoundslikegoodunderherbreath,shefinallyclimbsin.Thesecondshe’ssafelyinthecab,Islamthedoorshut.
AgustofwindslapsmeinthefaceasIstandthereforabeat,suckinginabreath.
Right.
I’malsogettinginthetruck.
Iripthedooropenagain.
Coltoisoffthephone,singingaspiritedrenditionof“RingofFire”asheadjuststherearview.
IeyethestretchofopenbenchseatbesideCassidy.Geometrywasoncemyfavoritesubject,butasIcalculatetheareaofthistatteredleathersquareandtakeintoaccountthedimensionsofmybody,Ifeelbetrayedbymath.
Thethreeofusaresardiningthisshit
Shehasherthighspressedshut,leavingahealthysliverofspacebetweenherandColto.Shedoesn’tscootanyclosertohimwhenIslideintoplaceandclosethedoor.Ourlegsandarmsfallflush.
“DoyouthinkyoucandropusoffatUnionStation?”sheasksColto.
“’Course.Gotyourselfaplan,doyou?”
Assheanswers,hereachesoverherlegtoanancient-lookingradio,furtherencroachingonherspace.Thepressureofherbodyagainstmineincreasesassheshifts.Ialmostwhisper,It’sokay,dowhatyouneedtodo,butsheseemstoalreadyknowthatitis.
DammitifIdon’tlikethatshefeelssafewithme,atleastforthis.
“CouldIborrowyourphone?”Iaskhim.“Ineedtostraightenthingsout.”
Coltorustlesupanoil-smearediPhoneinabulkycaseandforksitover.
“Thanks.”It’sinmyhandafewsecondsbeforethefullweightoftoday’sfuckerysettlesoverme.
Wheretoevenstart.
Ispendaseriesofmind-numbingminutesonthephonewithLegionInsurance,makingsureIknowwhatstepstofollowtonotsomehowgetsuedbytherentalcompanyoverthetrashedJetta.
Allthewhile,ColtopeppersCassidywithirksomequestions.
What’syourstory?
Hey,youbeenonthatSoYouThinkYouCanDanceshow?Mywifelovesit.
Wantsomedeerjerky?
Heranswersareinfusedwithallkindsofdetails.AsMarthafromLegiontalksmethroughthepaperworkI’llneedtofillouttoproperlyreporttheaccident,CassidyspeaksinhushedtonesaboutmovingfromWestlaketoAshevilletwoandahalfyearsagoandhowshe’sonherwaytoaneventbackhome.
Heasksifshe’s“hitched,”whichelicitsanawkwardlaughandabreathyI’mdatingmyself.
Mystomachturnsover.MaybeIshould’veacceptedCassidy’sroadsidepretzelswhensheofferedthem.
Icallthebanknext.ThebesttheycandoformeismailacardtoSophie’saddressunlessIcanswingbyoneoftheirsatellitebranchestoconfirmmyidentityinpersonandgetatemporarycardissued.Theyhavefoursatelliteoptions:Seattle,Miami,Dallas,andDenver.IhavehermailonetoSophie’shouse,becausewhatthefuckelse?
CarrentalheadquartersisnowacallIdon’thavetomake,becauseLegionwillcontactthemdirectly.Finally,IleaveRogelioavoicemail.
IthrustthephoneintoCassidy’slap,interruptingtheirspiritedconversationaboutcollegefootball.“Yourturn,”Iinsist.
“Thanks.”Herexpressioniswaryandriddledwithunansweredquestions.“Sodidyouwanttotakethetrain?”
Irubthetensespotabovemyeyebrows.
Wantisirrelevant.WhatIwantistoclosemyeyesandwakeuponmyshittyBakersfieldfuton,withthiscursedcommutesquarelybehindme.Iwanttobeabletocontrolmyowntriphomeandnotbecompletelyreliantonher.
WhatI’mgettingremainstobeseen.ChapterThirteen
Cassidy
NervesbubbleinmystomachasIwaitforLuke’sanswer.
Heturnshisheadmyway,puttingourfacescloseenoughthatIcancountthefrecklesonhischeek.Alltwoofthem.“Youaren’tobligatedtostickwithmeorhelpme.Youknowthat,right?”
Thismancouldbeonfireandhe’daskpermissiontoborrowahose.Iarchachallengingbrow.“It’sjustatrainticket.Ioweyouformyhalfoftherentalanyway,mayitrestinpeace.”
“Youcouldusethatmoneyonaplaneticket.”
Irollmyeyes.“Whyiseverythingastrugglewithyou?I’mnotbuyinganotherplaneticket.Period.EvenifIwantedto,it’smassivelyexpensiveandI’mworkingwithacreditlimit.Enoughforustogetbyuntilwegethome,butnotsomuchthatIwanttotossathousanddollarsatanairlinethatwillprobablyscrewmeoversomehow.”
Herubsthespacewheredarkundereyeshadowsshouldbeonhisface.“Isthatsupposedtomakemefeelbetteraboutyouspendingmoneyonme?Everydollaryouspendisgoingtoputyouclosertoyourlimit,andwhenyoureachabovesixty-sixpercentofyourrevolvingcredit,yourscore—”
“Mycreditscoreisnoneofmybusiness,Luke.That’sbetweenFICOandthelord.”
Mychesttightensatthevisibleconflictsplayedoutacrosshisface.Afewmoreminutesatcloserange,privytothezoomed-inviewofhisexpressions,andImightactuallythinkhecaresaboutthingslikemycreditscore.
I’mnotsurewhatIwoulddowiththatinformation,butmyskinheatsthelongerIconsiderit.Iextendmyhand,myjewelryglintinginthemeagerpost-stormsunlight.“Sostoptryingtoditchme,andIwon’tditchyou.Deal?”
“Iwasnever—youknowwhat,fine.”Hefloatshishandmywaybutpausesmid-air.“Thisfeelslikeaone-sidedshake.Youdon’tneedanythingfromme.What’sinitforyou?”
Iclosethedistance,slidingmyhandinhis.“IguessIdon’tliketravelingalone.You’dbedoingmeafavor.”
Thewarmpressofhishandjoltsmeasheclaspstight.MypalmhasmorenerveendingsthanIremember,eachonereportingforduty.
“Okay.It’sadeal.”
Ipullmyhandbackandshakeitout.“Great.Wonderful.Tickets,meetcart.”
HetiltshisheadtowatchasIpullupthewebsite.Hisfingertapsboldtextatthetopofthescreen,interruptingmyscrolling.“Shit.LookslikeI’llneedanID.”
Iflickhishandaway.“YoucanprintoneoutthroughtheNorthCarolinaDMV’swebsite.Berkeleyhadtodoitaftershemisplacedherlicenselastyear.”
Hepeerspastme.“ArethereanyUPSorFedExstoresnearthetrainstation,Colto?”
“It’sColton.Thoughcometothinkofit,ImightactuallyfavorColto.Soundskindalikeasuperheroname.”Heprodsthetouchscreenconsoleofhistruck,pluggingUPSintothemap.“Look,there.Thestationandyourstoreareascloseastwocoatsofpaint.”
Afterpokingaroundontheworld’sworstwebsite,Iformaplan.AtrainleavestonightandarrivesinLosAngelesinthemorning.Perfection.Ishould’vethoughtoftrainswaysooner.“I’mgoingtobooktwoticketsontheSouthwestChief.Thisisgood.Whatcouldpossiblygowrongonatrain?”
Lukelevelsmewithaterselook.“Areyouseriouslysayingthatoutloudrightnow?”
Ibookthe10:42trainforwhatfeelslikeastealcomparedtothecostofairfare,thenpeekatmycreditcard’swebsite.I’mtryingtoleaveseveralhundreddollarsonmycreditlineopenbecauseIhaven’tboughtaweddinggift,andIhavenoideawhatexpensesaweekatIsabelle’sdisposalwillhold.Atleastoneexpensiveeventlooms;Isabellerequestedabridesmaids’outingonSaturdaynightaftertherehearsaldinner,andIhavetobeabletopayforherstuff.Andwhenshegoesout,shegoesout
“We’regettingclose,”Coltonannouncesaswebattletheslowcrawloftraffic.“Abouttenminutesout.”
Isnaptoaction.“BettercallBerkbeforewelosephoneaccess.”
AsighexitsLuke’smouth.“Oh,herewego.She’sgoingtocastratemewhenshefindsoutIletharmbefalltheprincess.”
“Yep.Mightevencancelyourdowry.ThenhowwillyouaffordyourMyLittlePonycollection?”IdialBerkeley’snumberfrommemory.
“IcollectLEGOs.Getyourfactsstraight.”
Berkeleyinterruptsusbywayofgreeting.“I’mattheairport.What’sup?”
Igrimace,eventhoughshecan’tseeme.“Right.You’reonyourway.”
“Iseverythingokay?”
“Well.”Isuckinarallyingbreath.“Firstandforemost:alliswell.”
“Ohfuck.Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Therewasanaccidentinourcar,butwewerenotinthecar.Itwastotaledwithallourstuffinside.We’regoingtocatchatraintonight.Sothat’sthebadnews.Butthegoodnewsisyou’llnowhaveanentireeveningonyourowntoenjoyWestlake!”
“Cassidy,what?Areyouallright?”
“Pleasedon’tfull-nameme.You’regoingtomakemepanic.Thisisnotthatbigofadeal.We’refine.Itcould’vebeensomuchworse.”
“Sureitcould’ve,butthisisterrible.”
“TellmesomethinggoodandthenI’llletyouboard,”Iinsist.
“ElvistotallysmiledtodaybeforeIdroppedhimoffatthesitter.Beaming.Toldmehemissedyou.”
Ilaughmuchtooloudlyforthisconfinedspace,imaginingtheabsurdityofmydogbreakingoutinagrin.Berkeleyalwaysknowsjustwhattosay.“Ofcoursehedid.”
HertonetakesashiftintoMotherBearterritory.“Andwhere’sLuke?”
“He’snexttome.Why,wanttotalktohim?”
Lukegripsthedoorhandlelikehe’scontemplatingatuck-and-rollescape.
“Putmeonspeaker.”
Ipressthebutton.
“Hello,Lucas.”
“JustLuke,actually,”heinforms.
“Okay,Skywalker.Whathappenedtoprotectingmypreciouscargo?”
Luke’smouthpullsintoahardline.Ablink-and-you’d-miss-itflashofhurtpassesoverhisfacebeforeheschoolshisfeaturesintosomethingpassablylight.“YouhavemyfullpermissiontoleaveabadreviewonTripAdvisor.Verypoorform,onmypart.Yousee,Iwasdancinganddriving—”
“Berk,don’tlistentohim.It’snothisfault.Wepulledoverinastorm,gotouttopee,andasemismashedthecartosmithereens.Whenitallwentdown…”EmotionclogsmythroatasIrelivethewayhecomfortedme,thephantomslideofhispalmsagainstmyarms.“I’mreallygladhewasthere.”
Luke’sgazeflitsupfromthephone,catchingmine.Theairseemstosolidifybetweenus,heavyandthick.
Icould’vesaidIwasgladIwasn’talone.ButthetruthisI’mnotsureI’dwanttobetouchedorsoothedlikethatbyanyoneelse.
Youwouldn’t.Justhim.
It’sawhisperinmyear,aprimaltugginginmychest.
Thetiredness.It’sgettingtome.
Berkeley’slaughringsthroughthephone,soundingfaraway.“I’mjustgivinghimahardtime.IwillcertainlyleavethehighestpraiseonTripAdvisor,solongashegetsyouheresafely.”
Luke’sgazeholdsmecaptiveforafewmoresecondsbeforeitdropstothephone.Itfeelslikeasuctioncupseparatingfromglass.“I’llmakesureshe’stakencareof.”
IbarelyregisterBerkeley’sgoodbye.
Whenthefollowingsilencethreatenstoswallowmewhole,Itrytoredirecttheenergyflowingbetweenus.“Thatcallwentbetterthanthefirstone,don’tyouthink?”
“Mm.”Lukeshiftsinhisseattofullystareoutthewindow.
Mm
Whatdoesthatlittlepulsingnoisemean?HetellsBerkeleyhe’llmakesureI’mtakencareof,asthoughhegenuinelycareswhetherI’mokay,butthensparesmeatinymmbeforeglaringoffintospace?
ThismanmayrequireaRosettaStone.
…
ColtondropsusoffinfrontofaUPSstorenearUnionStation.Afterourdelightfulstintonthesideofaruralhighway,thisbustlingdowntownwithbuildingsthatstretchtowardtheskyisawelcomechangeofpace.Smogandall.
“Civilization.”Heartsinmyeyes,Ifollowhimintothenarrowstore.Iblowakissatthewall.“I’llnevertakeyouforgrantedagain.”
Lukeshiftspastmewithahandatthesmallofmybackinpursuitofthecomputerstation.“I’llgiveyouandthewallamomentalone.”
Ishiver,movingtowardadisplayofmailingsupplies.Whilehedoeshisthing,Idotheimportantworkofconstructingatoweroutofstiffenvelopes,goadedbytheboredUPSemployeetomakeithigher.
Heaccesseshisinformationonthecomputerandletsoutalong“yessss”whenhediscovershecan,infact,gethiscopyhereandnow.
PrintedIDinpocketandhourstokilluntilboarding,LukeandIwanderthecityblockinsearchofsustenance.
WecomeuponaWalgreens.IstillLukewithahandtohisarm.“Youthinkthisplacecarriesphones?Thekindyoucangetwithoutacellplan?”
Hisgazesweepsthedoor.“Theyshould,yeah.Whenmymom—”Hesteelshisexpression.“Theysellprepaidsatdrugstores.”
Minuteslater,weemergewithaburnerphone.ItearintothepackagelikeakidonChristmas.“Doesn’thaveinternetonitsown,butithooksuptowifi.”
“BestnewsI’veheardallday.”
“Keepyoureyespeeledforfood.”Ipokeatthephone,programmingBerkeleyandIsabelle’snumbers.“We’rehavingarealmeal.”
Luke’sansweringgruntishappierthanhisusualgrunt.“Nevermind,thatisthebestnewsI’veheardallday.”
Aftertenminutesofwalking,duringwhichtheexhaustfumesofslow-passingcarsstiranaggingpressurebehindmyeyes,Ispotit.
It.Pearl’sPinkCadillacDiner.
FamedKansasCityhotspot,accordingtothebusbenchadlocatedwithinspittingdistanceoftheestablishmentitself.
Beautiful,retrorespite.ThegiganticsignatopthebuildingfeaturesthefronthalfofareplicapinkCadillachaloedbyanarchofrose-tintedlight,spellingthenameinvintagelettering.
Thesigniseverything.It’stheinsideofmybrainwhenI’mdrunkonfizzypinkchampagne,thecolorofmybestdreams,thehueofmyfuturebedroom(Ijustdecided).It’salmosttooprettytobereal.
Andthen,there’sthepromiseofallthegreasydinerfoodyettobeconsumed.Mymouthinstantlywaters.
“Ohfuckyes.”
IwhipmyheadtowardLuke.I’veneverseensuchnakedlustinaman’seye.Thoughinfairness,myfewencounterswithlusthavebeeninthedark.
AndnowI’vewastedtwoperfectlygoodsecondsthinkingaboutlustandLuke
Wespeedwalktheremainingdistance.Hepausestostudythemenupostedoutsidethedoor,soIdothesame,eventhoughI’mcertainI’deatanythingthisplacesold.
ThefrigidbreezewhipsmyhairoffmyneckasIdragmyfingerdownthestickyplastic.“Somanychoices.Whatdoyouthink?Bang,Marry,Kill:burgers,friedchicken,breakfastfood.”
Ashockedlaughrocketsoutofhismouth.Thecackleheard’roundKansasCity.“That’satoughquestion.”
“I’llgofirst:marrybreakfastfood,bangfriedchicken,killburgers.”
“Idon’tknowwhatIexpected.Butitwasn’tthat.”
“Yourturn,”Iinsist.
Hisfeaturesscrewupinconcentration,asifthisisthemostimportantdecisionhe’llmaketoday.“Marryburgers.Killfriedchicken.”Heclearshisthroat.“Bangbreakfast.”
“I’llallowit.Breakfastisgoodforaromporalifelongcommitment.It’shardtomessup.”
“Dependswho’smakingit.Eggs,sausage,gravy,biscuits—itcanallgoverywronginthewronghands.”
Ifistmyhandsonmyhips.“Whosehandsareyouputtingyoursausagein?”
Hechokesonairasheopensthedoor.“Isthiswhathappenswhenyou’rehungry?Stand-upcomedy?”
“Yes.AndalsowhenI’mnothungry.”
Thesweet,sinfulsmellofbaconwaftsthroughtheair.Wenavigatethroughafewclustersofpeoplewaitingwithpagersintheirhands.Myeyeisinstantlydrawntothepink-and-whitetilepattern,butthere’ssomuchelsetosoakin.Recordsmountedonafarwalltocreatethesilhouetteofaflower,anoldjukeboxwithanout-of-ordersign,tealvinylbooths.Silverretrotables—allcurrentlyfull.
Myexcitementwanesafterfurtherinvestigation.Thisplaceispacked
Thehostessgreetsuswarmlyandprocuresapagerfromherstand.“Ifaseatatthebaropensupbeforewecallyou,feelfreetograbit!Samemenu.”
LukeandIpeeratthebarinunison.Alsoveryfull.
Weexistinseatlimboforaboutfifteenminutesbeforethefirsttableturns.Thereareatleastfourgroupsaheadofusinline,andIcanhearLuke’sstomachgrumblingoverthedinofthecrowd.
IseizethistimetocallandchatwithIsabelle’scatereraboutthesalmonsnafu,discussingalternatives.Wecometoaswiftagreementonasuitablealternative(hello,halibut).Next,Ileaveadetailedvoicemailtoherfloristaboutpossiblereplacementflowers.
Lukeside-eyesmeasIshootIsabelleatextwiththecatererupdate.“Weddingstuff?”
“Yup.Tryingtofixmysister’sproblemssoshedoesn’thaveto.Thevendorsbothhadhugemishapsthatjeopardizedherorders.”
“Theymessedupherorderstheweekofherweddingandyouwerefallingoveryourselftobeniceandthankingthemfortheirhelp?Mysisterwould’veraisedhellandthreatenedtocalltheBetterBusinessBureau.”
Ishrugashoulder.“Drizzlealittlehoneyontherightpeopleandyouwindupwithasweeterdeal.”
Twoseatsatthebaropenup.Theyaren’tsidebyside,butLuke’sfaceislargelydrainedofcolor.Healsoappearstobelackingthewilltolive.Inudgehim.“Let’stakethose.Iknowyoumustbestarving.”
Hedoesn’tfightmeforonce.
Weeachdescendonanopenbarstool.ThegirlbetweenusjerksherattentionfromherphoneandglancesatLuke,thenme.“Oh,areyoutwo—Sorry,letmemove.”
Mygazemovesfromherphonecharger—thecordsnakesallthewaybehindthebar—toherovertlypregnantstomach.That’snotconjecture.Herdresssaysit’sababy!inloopygreenlettering,andshe’swearingamatchinggreenheadband.Thecastonherrightleghasalsobeendecoratedwithagreenmarker.Shedoesn’tlookadayovereighteen.
LukeandIshoutovereachotherinourhastetokeepthisgirlseatedcomfortably.
“Please,stay.”
“Don’tyoudaremove!”
Becausethere’snodignifiedwaytogetonabacklessstool,Imountmyseat.Fromthecornerofmyeye,InotethatLukemakesitlookeffortless.
Ateye-level,Iglimpsethegirl’sstreakedmascara.Blackteartracksmarherrosycheeks.Shepicksupherphone,sighs,andslidesitawayfromher.
Asniffleescapeshermouthafewsecondslater,andsheblinksupatthetiledceiling.
Iscootcloserandlowermyvoice.“Areyouallright?”
Withastart,sheshiftsinherseattolookatme.“Oh,totally.Onehundredpercent.”Shesaysthisalllikeit’soneword.Ohtotallyonehundredpercent
Herbottomlipquivers.Shedrumsherhandsonthemetallicbartop,herchunkybraceletspingingagainstthesurface
Atsomepoint,shelosesthefight.Afewsilenttearsstreamdownherface.“Justdidn’twanttobealonetoday.ButIalsodon’twanttobewithanyonewhodoesn’trespectmeandmychoices.It’scomplicated.”
Itwisttheringonmyrightpointer.Herwordsstrikeadeepchord.
Icriedinmyfairshareofrestaurants,bars,andgrocerystoresafterthemovetoAsheville.Idesperatelywantedthecompanyofsomeonewhowantedtobewithme,justasIam.
Butlonelinesscamewiththeterritoryofacross-countrymove.IwantedthatfreshstartmorethanI’deverwantedanything.Neededit.ThatseedwasplantedwhenIlostthefirstpageantMomforcedmetoenter,andshetoldmeitwasmypersonalityintheQ&Athatsankme.Thatcanalwaysbefixed.Usethesamedisciplinewithyourwordsandactionsthatwe’repracticingwithourdiets,andyou’llgetthere.
ItsproutedwhenIfoundoutsheputadownpaymentonIsabelle’sfirsthouseasarewardforherbeingWestlakeHighSchool’svaledictorian,butskippedmyseniorrecital—theculminationofyearsoftraining—becauseshe’dscheduledasurprisecouplescruiseforherandmystepfatheranddidn’twanttopostponebecauseRandworkssohard,hedeservesthis
Itblossomedduringthewall-shakingfightwhenItoldherIwasdroppingoutofcollege.(Ididn’t,intheend.)
Leavingwasalwaystheplan,aneedthathummedinmybones.Anditwastherightthing.ThefreedomfromMom’sconstantscrutinyhitlikeMucinexattheheightofacold;IgotoutofL.A.,andIcouldfinallybreathe.
Butallthateasybreathingtookplaceinanemptystudioapartmentatnight.Iwasaloneconstantly.MyDNAisnotwiredforsolitude.Ibecamedesperatetofindmypeople.Thekindofcommunitythatanchorsyou,wheretheyknowyourweirdesthabitsandloveyouanyway.Icraveditsodeeply,Ididallkindsofthingsinthehopesoffindingit.Appsandmeetupsthatamountedtonothingbutdisappointment.Peoplemyagealreadyseemedtohavetheircircleanditwasimpossibletobreakin.Meetingpeopleatworkwasano-gobecauseIwasonlyteachingdancetolittlekidsatthetime,andIwasn’tabouttominetheirparentsforfriendship.
Bymonththree,thelonelinesshadmewearingsimilarmascaratracksonmycheeks.I’dsitatbars,wonderingwhatwasworse:beinginvisibleinmyownfamilyorbeinginvisibleinacrowd.
Monthfive,ImetBerkeley.IadoptedElvis.IstartedstackingstudiojobstoenmeshmyselffurtherinthedanceworldandaddedaweekendbartendinggigwhereIscoredaccesstoatonofnewpeople.Theachelessenedovertime.ButwhatIwouldn’thavegivenonthosedarkdaysforastrangertoseemeinmystruggles,grabmyhand,and—
“Areyousure?”Isqueezeherwrist.“I’vegotacraploadoftimetokill,soifintheoff-chanceyouaren’tokayandwantedasoundingboard,I’mthegirlforthejob.”ChapterFourteen
Luke
We’vebeeninthisbarallofaminuteandCassidyisgrabbingthisstranger’swristandcooinginherear.
Thegirlgrabsherhandrightback,herposturestraightening.“Areyousure?Gosh,Imustlooklikeawalkingcryforhelp.”
Cassidy’svoicefloatsoverthehustleandbustleoffoodservice.“Justsowe’reclear,I’mlovingeverythingthat’shappeningwithyouroutfit.Andyourhair.”
“Really?”Thegirllooksdownatherstomach.“Ifeellikeahouse.IguessIam,technically,ahouseforthischild.MyhairistheonlythingIlikeaboutmyselfrightnow.”
Cassidygesturesatthegirl’sredcurls.“Yourhairisanentirepersonality.It’stheprototypegirlsaskforatasalon.It’saPinterestboardallonitsown.”
Herfacebrightens.“Wow.That’ssoniceofyou.It’sjustboxdye.Yourhairiswhatmineaspirestobe,ifIcouldeveraffordtogetitprofessionallycolored.”
“IoncetookaboxofSharpiestothisfiremop.Don’tbelikeme.”
WhatthehellamIlisteningto?
Thegirl’slaughshakesherwholebody.“Thatisepic.Ihopeyouchosefuncolors.”
Cassidyquirksasmile.“Itriedthemall.”
Ourneighborrestsherhandsonherstomach.“I’mLena.”
“Cassidy.Nicetomeetyou.Nowtalktomeaboutthisheadband.Wheredidyougetit?”
SomethingstrangehappensinmybodyasCassidycontinuestopepperLenawithquestions.Adejavuofsorts.
First,itwasthewomanattherentalcounter,whomCassidywasreadytoshareacoffeewithfornodiscerniblereason.Thenitwastwenty-onequestionswithColton.Isuspecttherewasareasonforhisinterest—Cassidy’slookscouldrousethedead—butsheheldherown,carryingtheconversationlikeaproandinquiringabouthisjobandhobbies.Andnowit’sLena,wholooksaboutonerightquestionawayfromspillingherdeepestsecretsalloverthisbartop,allatCassidy’sgentlehand.
Cassidyissomekindofmindreader.Sheseemstoknowwhatpeopleneedwithinminutesofmeetingthem,whetherit’sasoothinggesture,aheart-to-heart,orabadjoke,anddeliversitasifit’sthemostnaturalthingintheworld
Ifixmygazeonthejellycaddy,spinningituntilitconsumesmyattention.It’salmostenoughofadistractionfromtheunsettlingpulsinginmychest.
ThebartenderdropsoffmenusandwatersinfrontofmeandCassidy.Igraspthepebbledplasticcupanddrainitinonegulp.
Whenshereturnstotakeourorder,Ispitoutmineinahurry.“Twoeggsandbacon,thanks.”
Cassidyleansbackinherstoolandhitsmewithalook.“That’sit?Youhaven’teateninages.”
Ialsoleanback,crossingmyarms.Theclatterofthedinermasksmyrumblingstomach.“I’mfine.”
Shenarrowsthoseeyesofhers.“Thisisn’taboutthemoneyagain,isit?Pleaseorderwhateveryouwant.”
“Don’tberidiculous.Twoeggsandbaconisplenty.”
“Whataboutyoursausageneeds?”
“Idon’thavethatparticularneedrightnow,butthankyouforyourconcern.”
Herlipspullintoatightline.“Youboughtmeasmallbodega’sworthofsnacks.Ihavetorightthiscosmicimbalance.”
“Youreallydon’t.”
Shepivotsherattentiontothebartender.“I’llhaveaKing’sbreakfast,eggsscrambled.Plusanadditionalorderofturkeysausage.Oh,andoneorderofbiscuitsandgravy.”
“Cassidy,pleasetellmethat’sallforyou.I’mreallyfine.”
Thistime,sheleansforwardinsteadofbacktocatchmyeye,perchingherelbowsonthebar.“Self-obsessedmuch?Thisisallforme.”Shebeamsatthebartender.“Thatguyisonmytab.Unlesshegivesyoutrouble,inwhichcasehecanwashdishesforhismeal.”
“Anythingelse,hon?”
“Yes.Extraplates,forsharing.NowayIcaneatallthisfoodonmyown.”
Ipinchthebridgeofmynose.
Lenatossesmeacuriouslook,andthenCassidy.“Isthisyourboyfriend?Husband?”
“Uberdriver.”Cassidyjabsherthumbmyway.“Hewascranky,soIassumedhewashungryandinvitedhimtolunch.”
Irollmyeyesandcontinuespinningmyjellyholder.
Secondslater,anoisethatsoundssuspiciouslylikesnifflinghitsmyear.“YourUberdriverjoinedyouforlunch,andIcan’tevengetmybestfriendstoshowup.WhatamIdoingwrong?”
“Oh,hey.”CassidysqueezesLena’sshoulder.“I’msureyouaren’tdoinganythingwrong.Andhe’snotmyUberdriver.Thatwasasillyjoke.What’sgoingon?”
“Thiswassupposedtobemybabyshower.”Sheshakesherheadlikeshe’scursingherself.“Threeofmyfriendsagreedtodothisforme,anice,low-keycelebration.Imademyowncakeandeverything.They’reholdingitinthewalk-infridge.
“Then,atthelastminute,Naomisaidhermomfoundouttheywereplanningthisandcalledtheotherparents.Theythoughtitwasabadidea.SoItoldthegirlsnottobothershowingup.Idon’twantthemfightingwiththeirfamiliesonmyaccount,youknow?MyboyfriendandIarebotheighteen—we’readults.Thisisn’tsixteenandpregnant,andI’mnotgoingtotrytotalkmyfriendsintohavingkids.”Shetakesalong,shakybreath.“Andtomakeitallworse,I’mnursingabrokenankle.Anyway,I’llgetoverit.”
Cassidy’smouthturnsdownatthecorners.“Youdon’thavetogetoverit.Thatallabsolutelysucks.”
“Kinda,yeah.It’smyonlyshower.Myboyfriend’semancipated,andmydadissingleandclueless.Thiswasgoingtobemyonlycelebration.ButmeandShawn—myboyfriend—arestoked.WewantedababybeforeheleftfortheNavy.”Shewipesbeneathhereyeagain.“Sorry,I’mnotusuallymessyinfrontofstrangers.”
“It’sokay.I’malwaysmessyinfrontofstrangers.It’sfarpreferabletobeingmessyaroundpeopleyouactuallyknow.AndyouknowwhatIthink?”
Lena’ssmileistimid.“What?”
Cassidysignalsthebartender.“Ithinkit’stimetocelebrate.”
…
IforkapieceofFunfetticakeintomymouth,gobsmacked.
Cassidyconjuredanentirepartyoutofthinairandchangedtheentireatmosphereofthisdiner,andallIcandoisstuffmyfaceandwatch.Inthespanofanhour,shecommandeeredtheentirebarandinspireddiner-goerstojoininthefunof(intrusively?)predictingthebaby’sweightandheightinthenameofpartysport.
Sheinventedababygamethatrequiresonlynapkinsandjelly—itwasverygrossandinvolvedchangingpretenddiapers,butthecreativitywastopnotch—andropedthestaffintocelebratingawomantheydon’tevenknow.
AndtheicingontheFunfetti?WhenLenatoldCassidythatshewasdoinganauticalnurserytocelebratethebaby’sdadjoiningtheNavy,Cassidyandthewaitstaffsangagoddamnseashanty.Anditwasn’tsomehalf-assdeliverylikeyou’dhearatabirthdayparty.Theywhole-assedit,plasticcupsthrustintheairlikethey’rewieldingpintsofbeeronaswayingship,voicesringingthroughthediner.
Inasurprisingtwistofmercy,shedidn’tforcemetoparticipate.Igottositbackandwatchitallunfold.
Whenit’stimeforLenatogo,CassidyjumpstoherfeettoretrieveLena’scrutchesfromtheirspotagainstthewall.IhearthebeginningoftheircontactinfoexchangeasCassidyhelpsherout.
WhenCassidyreappears,hereyesmeetmineacrossthediner.
Achargeofelectricityshootsdownmyspine,andIgripmyknees.Iimaginethisiswhatit’sliketobefriendastageperformer.Ablipofshockregisterswhentheyapproachyouaftertheshow.It’salittleshockingtoremembertheyrecognizeyouorknowyou.
Asshegetscloser,though,thebuzzdoesn’tstop.Andwhenshesmiles,itradiatesthroughme.
Ijumptomyfeet.
“Readytogo?”Herhanddriftsoverthesleevesofmyhoodie,whicharetiedaroundherwaist.“Wecanwalkoffthisfood.MightaswellmakethebestofdowntownKansasCity,right?”
Swallowingthickly,Iplacemyhandsonhershouldersandslidepasther.“Maybeweshouldjustwaitatthetrainstation.Don’twanttoriskmissingit.”
Herlaughiswind-chimeyasshetrailsmeoutthediner’sdoor.“We’vegotseveralhours,butsure.”
I’mthrownoff-kilterwhenwestepintothewaningafternoonsun.Old,unmatchingbuildingsliningthecityblockstandawashingoldsandoranges.Afterthedaywe’vehad,itfeelslikeit’sbeenlightoutforahundredyears.
ThebackofmyneckpricklesasCassidydancespastme.“ThisplaceismorecharmingthanIexpected.I’measilyenchantedbyacity.”
“Aren’tyouexhausted?”Isay,alittlesharperthanIintend.
Sheprancesdownthesidewalkinseriesofstepsandjumpsthatwouldputmostpeopleontheirass.“Ifeelprettygood,actually.”
Iwaveatherlegs.“Whatisthisyou’redoing?”
“Technicallyspeaking?”Herspinestraightens,andsheextendsherarms.“Leaps.Tombe,pasdebourrée,glissade,jeté.”
Igiveupontryingnottowatchher.Whatevercorrectlookslikeforthissequence,somethingtellsmeshenailsit.Jetémustmeanairsplitinanotherlanguage.“Seemschallenginginheels.”
Shewaitsformetocatchupandstartstowalkbackward.“Iusedtoperforminjazzheels.Thisain’tnothing.”
Mywordstiethemselvesinaknotonmytongueasshegrinsatme.It’smyturntotalk,butI’vegotnothing.
Iblinkpasther,zeroinginonadistantfireescape.Thecold,industrialmetalholdsmyeye,butnotmyinterest.“Sodance,huh?Why?”
Shefallsintostepbesideme.“Danceismylife.It’stheonlythingI’veeverbeengoodat.”
MythoughtsflitbacktothedinerandthelookonLena’sfacewhenshethankedCassidyforhermakeshiftparty.“WhydoIfindthathardtobelieve?”
“Idon’tknow.Maybebecauseyoudon’tknowmeverywell?”Thewordshavenopunch,noneofherusualhumor,likeshe’smerelystatingafact.
“You’regoodwithpeople,that’sfordamnsure.It’slikeyoucollectthemorsomething.Theladyatthecarrentalcounter,thetowtruckdriver,andthenLena.”Thecoolbreezenipsmyskin.“Beinggoodwithpeopleisthehardestskill,ifyouaskme.”
“I’mfriendly,maybe.Butanyonecantalktostrangers.It’showyouarewiththepeoplewhoknowyoubestthatdetermineswhetheryou’regoodwithpeople.”
“Idisagree.Especiallyonthepartabouttalkingtostrangers.Noteveryonecandothat.”
Theairinessworksitswaybackintohertone.Ipeekdownintimetocatchthesmiletuggingatherlips.“Wow,I’mnotsureyouandIhaveeverdisagreedbefore.Thisisunchartedterritory.”
IstiflealaughasIshovemyhandsinmypocket.“Doyouthinkyou’llworkindanceforever?Isthatyourlong-termplan?”
“Hardtosay.Plansmakemeantsy.”
“Plansmakeyouantsy?”Ipress.“They’resupposedtodotheopposite.”
“Yeah,butwhenyouhaveaplan,anditdoesn’tworkout,thenyou’redisappointed.Bestnottohaveone,wouldn’tyousay?”
“Noway.Iliveforagoodplan.”
Adarklaughdartsoutofhermouth.“Mymotherwouldloveyou.”WeturnacornerandtheAmtrakstationcomesintoview.“Enoughaboutme.WhatwaitsforyouinCalifornia?”
Herquestionistheconversationalequivalentofapianofallingontheconcrete.Sophie’sevasion,thecanceledcruise,andtheongoingsilenceaboutMomcomebarrelingtotheforefrontofmymind.“Family.”
“Somekindofevent?”
“Nothingasfunasawedding.”Iswiftlydiverttheconversationbeforeittouchesanythingtooheavy.“SoBerkeley’sgoingwithyou,huh?”
“She’smyplus-one.”
Thispieceofinformationtucksitselfintomybrain,likeitintendstostayawhile.ItcurlsuprightnexttoI’mdatingmyselfandthebreathywayhervoicesoundedwhenshetoldthisbitofinformationtothetowtruckdriver.
Sparksflickerinmychest.
Iquicklystompthemout.Cassidy’spersonallifehasnobearingonmyown.Inamatterofhours,we’llgoourseparatewaysandshe’lltakeallthesebitsoftriviawithher.AndI’llgomyway,possessingnichedancelingo.Idon’tgettoberelievedthatshe’ssingleorcuriousaboutwhereshe’sgoing.
Cassidyducksintoastorewiththewordboutiqueinthetitleinsearchofagiftforhersister,whichgivesmetheperfectexcusetotakesomespaceandresetmythoughts.
Iwanderdownthesidewalk,learningthefeaturesofthenewphone,passinginandoutoftheshadowsofneatlygroomedtreeswithgnarledrootsthatthreatentocrackthesidewalk.
AfteraquickcalltoSophiethatendswithnoanswer,aCalifornianumberlightsupthescreen.Reflexively,Ianswer.
“Hello,thisisRosereturningyourvoicemailfromRegencyFloral.Iunderstandit’surgent?”
Urgent.Florals.
Mypulsequickens,andIspinonmyheel.“Uh—hi,yes.Letme…Myfriendcalledyou.”Ihightailitdownthesidewalk.“Shewastryingtoreachyouaboutanorder.I’llgogether.”
“Sorry,you’rebreakingupbadly.Ijustneedtoclarifythereplacementorder.Ms.Blisssaidshe’lltakewhatevermatchesthewarmcolorscheme,butwe’veonlygotboldcooltones.Shecoulddoacontrasting”—shecutsoutforseveralsecondsasIcloseinontheshop—“notthemutedshadesshe’swanting.We’vegotsuchlimitedstockafterthecooleraccident.Issheopentoadarkercolorprofile?”
“Uh—”Igleanabout10percentofwhatshe’stalkingabout.Ilungefortheshopdoor.“I’mrunningtograbher.”
Abelljinglesabovemyhead.
I’mgreetedbyamannequininaleatherandlacelingerieset,andracksoffrillythingscrowdingthesmallspace.
Oh.
Iturn,readytocutandrun.
Butthen…thedamnflowers.CassidywouldprobablyneutermeifImessupwedding-relatedstuff.Sheneedstotakethiscall.
Igroaninternallyandstepintothestore,clutchingthephonelikealifeline.
Anemployeewithatapemeasurehangingoverhershouldersstrutsmyway.“HowcanIhelpyou?”
“I’mlookingformyfriend.Redhair,chatty?”
“Yes!Rightthisway.”Shebooksitforthebackofthestore.ItrytoputonmyblindersasItrailher,butdisplayskeepcatchingmyeye.
MypulseskyrocketsatthethoughtofCassidyshoppinghere.Whetherit’sforagiftornot.
Theemployeecomestoastop,gesturingatthebackwall.“She’sinthere.”
Behindacurtain,asin—
Jesus.Thiswomanledmestraighttothedressingrooms.Notevenaroom.Roomshavedoors
Thesaleswomanstepsuptothecurtain.“Youstillokayinthere,hon?”
Cassidy’svoicefloatsback.“Yes,thanks.Thisisabittightonme,whichwillbeperfectforher.”
“Oh,wonderful.Thatpiecewillbegreatforahoneymoon.Ifyouneedanythingelse,justholler!”
Yup,thiswasabigfuckingmistake.
BecausethelastthingonEarthIneedrightnowistheimageofCassidywearingsomethingtight,probablylace,possiblyleather—
“Areyoustillthere?”Rosebleatsintothephone.Hertonesuggestsit’snotherfirsttimetryingtogetmyattention.
Itspursmeintoaction.“Yes,sorry.”Clearingmythroat,Istepclosertothedressingroomandraisemyvoice.“Uh—Cassidy?”
“Luke?”Hertonetakesaturnforthehorrified.Ashufflinghappens.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“Thefloristisonthephone.”
“Oh!Oh,God.Okay.”Sheswearsunderherbreath.“Canyoutalktothem?”
“Flowersaren’tmyforte.ShouldIsetupatimeforyoutocallback?”
“No!Ineedtogivemysistersomesortofgoodnewsimmediately.CanyouaskiftheyhavebackupflowersIaskedabout?”
“Whycan’tyou?Icouldslidethephoneunder.”
“I’m,um…workingonazipper.Andsomebuttonsandties.Needbothhandstotakeitoff.”
Damnitall.
She’sstripping.
MyheartbeatthundersinmyearasItrytostayfocused.“Rose,myfriendwantstoknowifyouhavethebackupssheaskedaboutinhervoicemail.”
“That’swhatIwasexplaining.Shewantsmutedcolors,andI’veonlygotbolds.Andshespecificallysaidnohydrangea,butIhaveasurplusofwhitehydrangeathatcouldworkwellforhertablesettings.”
Mybrainscramblestounderstand.“Cassidy,areyouokaywithwhitehydrangeaforthetables?”
Thesoundofunzippingkicksmelowinthegut.Mybodydoesn’tmissabeat,allbutshoutingatmethatIhaveaperfectlygoodhandthatcouldhelpwithherundressingneeds.
Igrindmyteeth.Thatisnothappening.
“Hydrangeawillwork,”Cassidysays.
“Also,tellyourfriendwecouldn’tgetanyranunculus,”Roseadds.“Issheopentopeonies?”
“Cass,areyouopentopenniesforthebridalbouquet?”
“Youmeanpeonies?”
“Peoniesaregorgeous.Hadthoseatmydaughter’swedding,”thesalesclerkoffersfromfivefeetaway.Nicetoknowwehaveanaudience.
“I’mfinewithpee-oh-nees,”Cassidysays,enunciating.
Iswitchtospeakerphone,sincebeingahumanparrotclearlyisn’tcuttingit.Unfortunately,thatmeansIhavetogetevenclosersotheycanheareachother,holdingthephoneovertopofthecurtain.
Afterafewmoreback-and-forthsfinalizingtheorder,asighofreliefescapesCassidy’smouththathasnothingtodowiththecall.IknowthisbecauseI’mcloseenoughtohearherlingeriehittingthegroundinthefaintestthud
“There.Gotit.”
Asurgeoffilthyheatpulseslowinmygut.
Shesuccessfullywriggledoutofwhatevershewaswearing,whichmeansshe’snowinnothingatallontheothersideofthatflimsycurtain.
IsaygoodbyetoRose.Ithink.
“Hey,”CassidycallsbeforeIcanescape.“Thanks.Thatwasreallyhelpful.”
Ishrugitoff.“Don’tworryaboutit.”
Anotherzipper.She’sbackinherjeansnow.“I’llbuyyouabouquetofpenniesforyourefforts.”
Ismilefornoone,becauseshecan’tseeme.“Moreofaquartersguy.”
Agigglefillstheair.“I’llkeepthatinmind.”
Warmthtricklesacrossmyshouldersanddownmyback.Itlodgesinthecenterofmychest,makingitselfathome.
Ispendtherestofhergift-buyingtripoutside,angledtowardthefrigidbreeze,tryingtoshaketheheatcoursingthroughmybody.Idon’tgettoberelievedthatshe’shandledhersister’sflowerproblemorthrilledthatIhelpedmakeithappen.Iwillnotwonderifsheboughtherselfanythinginthere.
ThelessIthinkaboutagirlIwon’tseeagainaftertomorrow,thebetter.ChapterFifteen
Cassidy
IpintheAmtrak’slobbydoorinplacewithmybody.“Afteryou.”
Lukepasseswithoutsomuchasasidewaysglance,andhebarelyslowstowaitformeashebarrelsforward.
MyheelsechooffthetileasIdartafterhim.“Whoa,where’sthefire?”
Hewheelsaround.Floodedwiththelastvestigesofdaylightpouringinthroughmassivewindows,helooksotherworldly,likealeanerHerculeswithhistanskinandgoldenhair.Maybeit’sbecausethistrainstationlookslikeitwassnaggedfromDisney’sanimatedMountOlympus,allwhiteandpearlescent.
“Hm?”Herunshishandthroughhishair,amoveI’mstartingtoassociatewithAcuteLukeStress.“Fire?”
“Youchargedthisplacelikeitwasthelasthundredmetersofarace.Or,Idon’tknow,theopeningofComic-Con,andyouaredeckedfromhead-to-toeinacostumeyoucan’twaittoshowoff.Chooseyourownadventure.”
“IwillneverforgiveWillfortellingyouaboutcosplay.”
Mysmileistriumphant.“C’mon,let’sgoprintourtickets.Thekiosksareover—”
“Wait.”Hestopsandpointsoverhead.“Look.”
Thearrivalsanddeparturesboardabovethecustomerservicecounterflashesboldandbright.
KansasCitytoL.A.UnionStation
WeatherDelay-LaPlata
Nowboarding2:39a.m.
No.No,no,no
Iburymyfaceinmyhands.
Inhale,exhaleCounttoten
WhenIresurface,Lukeisparkednexttome,armscrossedashestudiestheboard.
“Thiscan’tbehappening.”Myheadtipsback.“Nofreakingway.Notthis,too.”
“Let’stakeabreath—”
“Ican’t.”Idroptoasquat,theweightoftheentiredaysettlingonmyshouldersanddrivingmeintotheground.TheEarth’score.Themagma,whereIwillhappilymeltintomysimplestform—
“Easythere.Noneedtothrowyourselfonthegroundoverthis.It’sgoingtobeokay.”Luke’stoneistiredbutnotnearlystrainedenoughformyliking.
“Okay?Howisthisokay?”Myhandsrakemyhairandgriptheroots.“Isabelleisgoingtokillme.Andthenmymotherisgoingtoreanimatemycorpseandkillmeagain.”
“Thisisunfortunate,yes,butitonlyputusafewhoursbehind—”
“Afewhourswhenit’salreadyabillionhourspastwhenIwassupposedtobethere!Youdon’tunderstand,Luke.”Hot,traitoroustearsprickthecornersofmyeyesasIstandbackuptofacehim.“I’vebeensilver-liningthiswholethingprettyhardbecause,well,whatchoicedoIhave?ButIdon’tknowifIcanhandleonemoresetback.I’vedonejustabouteverythingIcanfromtheroadtomakesurethisistheweddingofmysister’sdreams,buttheresthastobedoneinperson.Andtokeepmymother…nevermind,just…Ihatethis”
Luke’sarmsriseandfall,riseandfallagain,thenfinallylandonmyshoulders.“Thisisn’tideal.”
“Whyaren’tyoumoreupset?Isn’tyourfamilywaitingforyou?”
Hismouthtwitchesandhishandsfallaway.“Theydon’tknowI’mcoming.It’s—Iguessit’sasurprise.Notatallthesameaswhatyou’reexperiencing.Asforyoursister,it’sprettyevidentyou’vedoneeverythingyoucantogethomeandbehelpful.I’msureshe’llunderstand.”
“Idon’tknow.FeelslikeIcould’vedonesomethingmoreorbetter.”
“Ican’tpossiblyseehow.You’recallingvendorsleftandright,makingarrangements,buying”—heblinksaway—“gifts.”Hisvoicesnagsontheword.
Heatcreepsovermyskin.Thetinyblackshoppingbaginmyhandsuddenlyweighsathousandpounds.Alifetimewon’tbelongenoughtoforgetthatLukecaughtmesizinglingerie.Icertainlycoulddowithouthimmentioningit.
AftermysisterlamentedthatMikaelwasn’tnoticingherduringourairportcall,I’vebeenmullingovergiftstohelpboostherconfidence.I’mcertainshe’llloveandappreciatewhatIpicked,aswellasthefactthatItestedittomakesureit’llfit.
ButIdidn’tanticipateanambushintheformofaflesh-and-bloodmanwhileIwastryingiton.
Luke,rightontheothersideofthecurtain.Hisdeep,problem-solvingvoicevibratingintheairasIundressed.
Apulseofheatinmycorejoltsme.
“Fine,”Isay,anedgetomyvoicethathasnothingtodowithtrains.Ilacemyhandsbehindmyback,hidingthebagfromview.“Thedelaywon’tkillus.AndI’vehandledwhatweddingstuffIcanfortoday,you’reright.”
“Inevertireofhearingthat.”
MyeyerollprobablyregistersontheRichterscale.“You’reamenace.”
“It’sjustafewhours.We’llbefine.”
“Acalm,level-headedterror,”Igrumbleundermybreath.
“We’llusethistimetoregroup.We’ll…”Hetrailsoffandbuffshisglasseswithhisshirt.
Ichewtheinsideofmycheek.Anewproblempresentsitselfintheformofwhattheheckdowedonow?
“We’ll…sleep?”Iask.“Inthosechairs?”
Hegrimacesandflashesmehissharpjawlineashelookstowardthesittingarea.“Ifyouwanttosithere,that’swhatwe’lldo.”
“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”
“Fastforwardintimeeighthours,preferably.Butsincewecan’t,I’mopentowhateveryouwanttodo.”
Isighasdefeatwashesoverme.“Iguesswecan’tsithereforeighthours.There’sgottobeanotheroption.”
Hecutsahesitantlookatthemassiveglassdoors.“Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”
…
Ourtaxidrivermaybeinneedofnight-timeglassesorcontacts.
IthrowaprotectivehandinfrontofmystackofWalmartbagsasheslamsbrakesforthefifthtime.
Lukeglaresmiserablyattheseatbetweenus.“Thisfeelsunnecessary.”
“Wouldyoustopsulking?Shoppingwasanecessaryevil.Weneededallthis.”
Luketossesmeapointedstare.“Notthestuff.Ijustdon’tthinkweneededtohikeacrossthecity.Wecould’vegotteneverythingweneededdowntownandstayedclosetothestation.”
“TheheartofdowntownKansasCitydoesn’thaveWalmarts,Luke.Ormaybetheydo,heckifIknow,buthotelsdowntowncostalmostdoubleineverycity.Indisputablefact.Thisfive-miletaxirideisanexpenseI’mfinewith,ifitmeansproximitytoacheapmotel.”
“Butwe’llhavetotaxiback—”
“Don’tyouwanttogetoutofthosepants?”Isnapmyheadtowardhim,colorcreepingintomycheeks.“Imean…intosomethingmorecomfortable?”
“I’mfinewiththese.”Hepatshisthighsaffectionately,whichcontinuetobehuggedtodeathbyhisdresspants,astheywerethelasttimeIaccidentallyogledthem.“Would’veworntheseclothesfortherestofthetrip.Comfy.”
“Toobad.Nowyouhavejeans.”
“Oh,Iknow.Iwasthere,too.”
“Would’vebeenfasterifyoujusttoldmeyoursizeupfront.Would’vesavedusalotoftime.”
“Icherishedthattime,arguingaboutclotheswithyouintheaisles,”hedeadpans.“Mightscrapbookaboutitlater.”
TheensuingsilencepokesmeinbetweeneachribindividuallyuntilIamsquirminginmyseat.
Heleanshischeekagainsthisheadrest.Thelightsofthecityblurbehindhim.“Inallseriousness,thanksforbuyingmejeans.Andtheotherthings.Thatwas—”
Isawmylipstogether,waitingforthesecondhalfofthis.Thesnarkyjab.Hiseyescutapathacrossmyface,pausingonmymouth.
“—nice.”Mylipstingleashisgazeflitsuptomeetmine.“Reallynice.”
“Oh.You’rewelcome.”Mystomachflips,likehe’sthrustmeinthespotlightandIhaven’thadtimetorehearse.
AlarmbellsringinmyheadthelongerIlookathim.
Ishouldstop.
Becausesure,LukelookslikeaCalvinKleinmodel,withajawthatjawsexactlyasitshould,faintlyhollowedcheeks,richhoneyhazeleyesthatallworktogethertogivehimRestingBroodingFace.LikeRestingBitchFace,buthotter.
Andyes,hissoftpoutcouldbedescribedaskissable.
Nottomentiontheglasses.Hooboy,theydon’thurt.Thismanshirtlessandinglasses,withjoggersslunglow,wouldsendagirlintocardiacarrest.
Buttolookatthismanistoremembereveryothermanbeforehim.Theoneswhothinktheywantyouuntiltheygettoknowyou—orthinktheyknowyou.Theoneswhochewyouupandspityououtlikeaplaythingthesecondyousleepwiththem.Ormorecommonly,inmycase,theoneswhonevergiveyouthetimeofdayinthefirstplace.
TheOnesWhoCameBefore,whodidn’tevenholdacandletoLukeinthehandsomedepartment.
ImaginehowmuchdamageRestingBroodingFacewoulddoifIletmyselfentertainanythingwithhim.
WhichI’mnot.Thetermheartbreakerexistsforareason.
Iforcemygazeoffhisfaceandcrossmylegs.“You’reluckyIdidn’tgoforthepajamabottoms.Could’vemadeyouridetheAmtrakinplaid.”
“Again,IthinkI’djustwearthese.”Hegesturesathispants.
“I’llbeburningthoseinthehotelroomasaritualsacrificetothetravelgodssotheylayoffofus.”
Theroom.Singular.
Myimplicationhangsbetweenus,suspendedinthemustyair.
Hedoesn’tquestionit.Idon’tcorrecthim,becauseamIbuyingtworooms?We’vealreadysharedanairportfloorandweknowwearen’teveninthesamestratosphereasAThing.It’sasituationofconvenience
Plus,Ican’tforgetthemoneyI’veearmarkedfornextweek.
Iprobablyshouldsuggestoneroom.It’sthematurethingtodo.Fiscallyresponsible,even.He’llbeproud.
Atthispoint,Idon’tknowifI’mtryingtoconvincemyselforhowI’llconvincehim.
“Andwhatotherarticlesofclothingwillyoubeburningthisevening?”heasks,interruptingmyspiraling,thegraveledgereturningtohistone.
Exhaustionreallydoesanumberonthatvoice.
Mygazeroamshisfaceasstreetlampsprovideintermittentpulsesoflight.“Probablysomethingofmine,forthesakeofequality.ProbablythesejeansthatIamextremelytiredof.Igotmyselfapairofyogapants.Myfavoritearticleofclothingeverinvented.Soft.Comfortable.Ifsomeoneweretocosplayme,they’dwearthesepants.”
Hisjawticksasheturnstowardthedriver.“Soyeah,anymotelisfine.”
Ourdriver,Lugo,hasatightbuntiedontopofhishead.Itpokesabovehisheadrest.“There’sacan’t-missKCtouristspotjustahead.Mileorsouptheroad.Wait.Youtwohaveanyweirdfearsorphobias?”
IanglemybodysoIcanseeLugointherearviewmirror.“Like…fearsrelatedtohotels?”
Onlyasliverofhisfaceisvisible.Hiseyescrinklewithamusementasheanswers.“Yeah,thismotelisn’teveryone’scupoftea.ButIthinkit’srad.”
ItentmyhandsandturntoLuke.“Wegotta.”
“IsitathemedHolidayInnorsomething?”Lukeasks.“OraBudgetInn?”
“It’scalledyou’llsee.”
Atthis,Lukecockshisheadsideways,curiosityetchedinhistiredeyes,andmouths,What?
Ishrug.Lugolikestoplaycoy,apparently.ChapterSixteen
Luke
Whenwepulluptothelobbyofahotel,withitsnavyexterior,roundedwalls,andshinyshinglesreminiscentoffishscales—and,ohyeah,anenormousneonYOU’LLSEAsignabovethefrontdoor—thedriver’swordsallmakeahellofalotmoresense.
TheVACANCYsignrattlesagainstthedooraswestepinsidethelobby.
“Oh,”Imutter.“Oh.”
Thefacadeofthisbuildingwasalaughableunderstatementcomparedtowhat’sinside.
Thewallsofthislobbyarefloor-to-ceilingfishtanks.
Everylastinchofthisdimlylitinteriorisburstingwithunder-the-seathemedshit.Andwacky-for-no-reasonshit.Framedmermaidportraitslinethewalltoourleft.Portraits,asifthemermaidsaresittinginancientchairsandposingforasixteenth-centuryoilpainter.“AmIexhausted,oristhis—”
AlaughtearsfromCassidy’smouth.“ThisisthemostincredibleplaceI’veeverseen.”
“Doyouneedalistofplacestogoseeafterthis?BecauseiftheYou’llSeahotelisthemostincredibleplace—”
Shehowlswithlaughterandclutchesmyarmtokeepfromkeelingover.Herfaceflushesfromtheexertion.“I—I—Iamsotired.”
Mychuckleislow.Untilshesaidit,Ihadn’tevenregisteredtheburningbehindmyeyesortheheavinessinmylimbs.I’vesupersededtiredandgonestraighttodeadmanwalking.Butthere’salsoastrangelightnessinmybody,likeI’mfloatingonairandnothingcanhurtme.“Thisisprobablywherewe’lldie.”
Cassidy’sattentionshiftstothewalls.“Dang,lookatthosefishtanks.Ibetthosearesaltwatertanks.Idon’tknowmuchaboutfish.Whatdoyouthink?”
“IthinkI’mnotsurprisedtheyhaveopenrooms.Somepeoplearereallyscaredof—”
Asinisterlaughchimesthroughthetinyspace.Myheartclenches,andIjumpsideways,nearlyknockingCassidytotheground.Isteadyherbeforeswivelingtothewall.
Insteadofacuckooclockspittingoutabird,thismonstrosityspitsoutasharkhead.Therestoftheclockispaintedtolooklikeashark’sbody.
WhenIregainthesmallestshredofcomposureandglanceather,herlipsarepursedtogetherlikeshe’strappinganotherlaugh.
Shefails,anditspillsoutlikeacarbonateddrinkoverflowing.“Yougood?”shefinallysays,breathlessasshecupshercheeks.“Gonnamakeitthroughthenight?”
“Depends,”Isnap.“Youthinktheyhavetheseintherooms?”
Shenodstowardthedesk.“Onlyonewaytofindout.”
Atinysilverbellsitsinthecenterofthepinkcounter.Ringforservice.
Insteadofsmashingitwithanopenpalm,Cassidypressesdownwithonefinger.Thechimeismuted.“Whatcolorwouldyousaythiscounteris?”shemuses.
“Colorofahospitalkidneypan.”
Shewinces.“That’s…sinister.Iwasgoingtosaytickle-me-pink.”
ThereinliesthefundamentaldifferencebetweenmyandCassidy’sworldviews.
Anoldermanwithmorehairabovehisupperlipthanonhisheadamblesoutofabackroom.Heliftsameatyarmintheair.“How’sitgoing?Youtwolookingforaroom?”
Theeasebetweenusfallsawayinaninstant.
Cassidylooksmyway.“Financially,sharingonemakesthemostsense…right?”
Idrummyhandsagainstmythighs.“Yourcard,yourcall.”
“Howmuchisaroom?”sheasks.
Themustachedmanclicksaroundonhiscomputer.“We’vegottwoleft,bothsuites.”
“Youarenotpayingfortwosuites,”Isay.“I’drathersleeponthefloor.”
Sherollshereyes,butherneckworksassheswallows.“Iguesswe’lltakewhicheveroneischeaper.Onabudgetandall.”
MystomachtwiststhinkingaboutnighttimeCassidy.Icanalmostimaginehersprawledoutonherstomach,feetintheair,playingasoloroundofBang,Marry,Kill:DessertEditiontopassthetime,laughingatherownanswers.
Orstretchinginthenewyogapantsshelovessomuchandcouldn’tresisttalkingabout.
Ithinkmyirritationandexhaustionhavesignedapacttotakemedown,becausethisisthelastthingIshouldbethinkingaboutrightnow.
Sheeyestheman.“Whatcomesinthatroom,forsleepingpurposes?”
“Ithasaclamshellbedandapull-outloveseat.”
“Whatthehellisaclamshellbed?”Iblurt.
Hegesturesatthelobbybywayofexplanation.“It’saclamshell,myguy.Idon’tknowhowelsetoexplainit.”
Asifthatclearsthingsupormakesanygoddamnsense.
Afterwepay,whileDannyDeVito’slong-losttwinstalksofftothebackroomtofindourkey,IstealalookatCassidy.“Whataretheoddstheclamshellbedisanactualclamshellthatclosesandsuffocatesyouwhileyousleep?”
“We’llsee.Andtobeclear,that’ssea,withana.”
Thatwewill.
…
Thedoortoroomthirteenopenswithease,andafrigiddraftescapestheroom
Wemovethroughadark,tinyfoyer,pastthebathroomdoor.CassidydepositstheWalmartbagsontheground.Itrynottothinkabouthowdisgustinghotelfloorsaresincesheseemsunbothered.
Mybreathcatchesinmychestassheflipsthelightson.Onlyablacklightcouldmakethisrevealmoredramatic.
Theroundclamshellbed,withitsimposingclamframeanddanglingpearl-shapedlamp,isn’teventhemostsurprisingthinginthisroom.
Thathonorgoestothesetofjellyfishtanksembeddedinthewalls,flankingthebed.Thejellyfishlazilyfloatalong,withoutanyawarenesswhatsoeverthattheirhomeisahotelroomwherepeoplealmostassuredlygetfreakyashellonaclambed.
Onthetopicoffreaky:abeechwoodcabinetfilledwithundersea-themeddollsandstuffedanimalsgreetsusonthefarwall.
Thisplacereallyisatouristattraction.
Thedollswatchme,theirbeadyblackeyesfollowingmeasItakeafewtentativesteps.
AndwhenIturn,Idiscoverthemirroredwall.
AndIseeCassidyinthemirroredwall,asshediscoversthemirroredwall.
Westareateachotherforafullthreeseconds.
Sheliftsherhandandstartsrattlingofffingers.“Scorecardtime:onemirroredwallwithbubbledecals,onewallwithwetseaghostsandaclambed,onedollwall,andonesurprisinglynormalwallwithTV.DidImissanything?”
“Wetseaghosts?”
“Jellyfish.”
Iblinkafewtimes,stillwatchingherinthemirror.
Herhandsmovetoherhips.“Tellmeyoudon’tseeit.”
“Yes,Iunderstand.Wetseaghosts.”Ishakemyhead.It’slikeherbrainhasafeaturethatautomaticallytakeseverythingandmakesittentimesmoreinteresting.“Youaresomethingelse,youknowthat?”
Herbrowspulltogether.“You’vesaidthatbefore.”
“It’sthetruth.”
Shegazesatme,expressioninscrutable.“Whatdoesthatmean?‘Somethingelse.’What’sthebaseline?”
“I—”Mymouthsnapsshutatthechallenginglookonherface.“I’msensingthere’sarightandawronganswertothis.AndI’mnotsureIwanttoriskgettingkickedoutofthisroomifIgetitwrongbecauseit’scoldoutsideandI’mscaredofthesharkclockinthelobby.”
“Nevermind.”
Icockmyheadtotheside.“Doesthatoffendyou,or—”
“ForgetImentionedit.Really.MyheadiskillingmeandI’mgoingtotakeanirresponsiblylongshower.”Shestrutstowardthebathroom,snatchingalltheWalmartbagsshedumpedonthegroundinthefoyer.Shedropsoneonthegroundhalfwaybetweenus.“Here:jeans,T-shirtpack—Iwilltakeoneofthoseshirts,it’safour-pack—toiletries,assortedmanthings.”
BeforeIcansayanythingelse,sheslamsthebathroomdoor.
Shewasrightaboutonething:webothneedsleep.Lotsofit.We’vereachedtheunpleasantsideofslap-happy.We’reonemisconstruedcommentawayfromheractuallyslappingmeintheface.
Iturnaroundandstridetowardthemini-couchandsettoworktransformingitsfinalbedform.
Thesoundoftheshowervibratingthewallpumpsmewithanunsettlingjoltofenergy.ImakeitabouttensecondsbeforeIsuccumbtothevisualstirringtolifeinmybrain:hotwatercascadingdownCassidy’snakedbody,dropletsclingingtoallthebestplaces.Herhandsmovingoverslickskinasshewashesthedayaway.
Whenmyimaginationtakesadangerousturn,visualizingallthespotsonherbodythosehandsmightlinger,Ifliponthetelevisiontodrownoutthethoughts.
AcontentedsighleavesmymouthwhenIlandonthechannelplayingFamilyFeud
Afteranunreasonablylongtime,theshowerswitchesoff.
MypulsepicksupasIglanceatthemirroredwallseparatingthebedroomfromthebathroom.
Cassidyemergesaminutelater,herwethairinaknotontopofherhead.Herfaceisflushedadeeppink,liketheshowerwastoohotforherskin.
AndherfaceiswhereIkeepmyattention.
Notonherbarestomachorhersportsbra.Notoneverythingthatwhitesportsbraisprotecting.
Notonthedipsatherhipsthatmakemypalmssweat,orthetightblackpants,whichthankstothemirroredwall,Icanseefromallangles.
Iblinkaway,chastened.
Sheglidesacrosstheroomandperchesontheroundbed.Herhandmovestoherneckandhereyesshut.
“Areyouokay?”
“Beginningsofamigraine.SometimestheycomeformewhenIdon’tgetenoughsleep.Orcaffeine.”Shedigsherfingersintothedelicateslopewhereherneckmeetshershoulder.“Othertimes,theyjusthappenfornoreason,whichisarealtreat.Ithoughttheshowerwouldhelp,butitdidn’t.”
IcrossmyarmsasSteveHarveyaskshisfeudingfamiliesforareasonakidmightgetgroundedinthebackground.“Doyoutakeanymedicationsforthat?”
“No.Idon’thavehealthinsurance,soIavoiddoctors.”Shetakesalaboredbreath,andherexhaleisahiss.“Iknowyou’reprobablythinking,Whydoesn’tshehavehealthinsurance?I’llgetitsoon,Ijusthaven’t.Iworkalotofoddjobs.”
“I’mnotthinkingthat.Whatdoyouusuallydotohelpyourheadache?”Itakeaslowlap,rackingmybrain.“Mymomusesaheatingpadforjustabouteverypurpose.Wouldsomethinglikethathelp?”
“SometimesIcanheaditoff.Fallasleepbeforeitreallytakeshold.Butnowthatithurts,Idon’tknowifI’mgoingtobeableto,becauseIgetanxiousthatit’llgetworse.ThenIlietherethinkingaboutit…”Shehangsherheadindefeat.
“Whatwouldyoudoifyouwerehome?There’sgottobesomethingwecando.”
Afewsecondspasswhilethehootsandhollersofastudioaudiencefilltheroom.“Berkeleydoessomesortofmagictrickwithpressurepoints.Theoneshere.”Sheduststhetipsofherfingersacrossherneck.“Willyouturnoffthelights?”
Ifliptheswitch.Anuncomfortablesenseofurgencypossessesmybody.“Letmegogetyousomepainkillers.Oraheatingpad,orice.Ordoyouwantmetotrythepressurepoints?”
Afterafewseconds,shewhispers,“Idon’tknow.Maybeyoucouldtry?”
Isitside-saddleontheweirdbed.“Noproblem.”MythroatisbonedryasIswallow.“CanItouchyou?”
“Yes.Wait—”
Ithrowmyhandsupbeforetheytouchdown.
“LetmeshiftpositionssoyoucanstillseetheTV.”
Asmalllaughbubblesupinmythroat.Asiftelevisionisapriority.“Don’tworryaboutme.”Iplacemyhandsonhershoulder,glidingmythumbsuptheslopeofherneck,searchingforanyobvioustightspots.Herskinissoftandwarmfromhershower.
Thedeepglowofthefishtanklightscastseverythinginblue.Cassidy’sglowinginthedark.
Ibrushthewispyhairsatthebaseofherneckaside.
“Here.”Eyesstillclosed—Icanseeherreflectioninthemirroredwall—shelaysherhandontopofmine,guidingmehigher.“Shestartshere.”
HerheadgentlyrocksasIpushintothetightnessatthetopofherneck.Thatfloralsmellshebroughtintoourcarearlierattacksmefullforce.
Definitelyhershampoo.SeemssheboughtsomefromWalmart.
Afteraminuteorso,sheslidesherhandoverthejunctureofherneckandshoulder.“Canyoutryhere?You’llprobablyfeeltheexacttensespots.”
Ifindthehardknotsandpresslightlywithmythumbs.Abeatoftriumphpoundsinmychest.“Ifeelthem.”
Anoisesomewherebetweenacryandawhimperleaveshermouth.Ipullmyhandsaway.
“No,don’tstop.”
BloodsurgesthroughmeasIrushtorestoremytouch.Thewordsdon’tstopoutofhermouthreplayinmyheadafewmoretimesbeforeIcanshakethemoff.
Inappropriatelytimed.
Ikneadthearea—moregentlythistime,soasnottohurther.
Sherollshershouldersback,stickingoutherchest.Movingthroughthemassagewithhereyesclosed.Thegirlisinpain,andyetIcan’tkeepmyeyesoffherinthemirror.HerlipspartasIslidemyfingerslower.
“I,uh…”Nowwouldbeanoutstandingtimetohaveasingleinteresting,anddistracting,thingtosay.“TheEleventhDoctor.”
“Huh?Isthataheadachespecialist—oh—sorry,keepgoing?”
Istareupattheceiling,grittingmyteethasherohpassesthroughmelikeacrestingwave.“That’smygo-tocosplaycharacter.FromDoctorWho.It’saneasycostume.Ialreadyownatweedsuitbecausemyboss—Nevermind,thepointisIwearabowtie,andnowyouknow.”
Sherollsherheadtotheotherside.“I’veheardofthatshow.Isitfun?Goingtoconventions?Dressingup?”
Iwaspreparedforaroast,notfollow-upquestions.“Sure.Ihaven’tbeentooneinafewyears,butthey’remostlyagoodtime.NormallyIhatecrowds,butthisisdifferent.It’smoreanonymous.Youhavethisonethingincommon,afandom,andyougettogetherandnerdoutaboutit.Uncomplicatedfun.”
“Soundsreallynice.”
Hervoicehasfinallygivenintothestrainofexhaustion.Ormaybepainatmyhand.Ilessenthepressure,andshewhimpers.
“Luke?”
Islowmyhands.“Hm?”
“Harder.Icantakeit.”
Fuckinghell.
Ishiftpositions.
Asrequested,Idrivemythumbsintoherwithmoreforce,massagingthetightspotsinsmallcircles.Asmall,breathysighslipsoutofhermouth.“That’sgood.”
Iclosemyeyes.
Herskinishotagainstmyhand.Myfingersslideeasilyoverher.Oneofusissweating.
Me,mypalmsaresweating.
Withoutsomethingtolookat,I’mforcedtofocusonherbreathing.Jesus,whyisherbreathingsobreathy?
Forcingopenmyeyes,Iintendtostareatthejellyfish.
Becausethemirrorisofficiallyawarzone.Ican’tingoodconsciencelookatthewayshestrainsagainstherbra.Thethinfabriciswearingmethin.
She’sadancer.Dancersareusedtowearinglessclothingthantheaverageperson.It’snotaninvitationtolook.
Ineedtoshortentheleashonthesethoughts,andtheonlywaytoaccomplishthatistogethertalking.“Areyouexcitedaboutthewedding?”
Sheshiftspositions,bringingherhairjustbelowmynose.Herback,closertomychest.Ifightwithmyselfforafewsecondsbeforegivingupandbreathinginherscent.
“Moreorless.”
PartofmeknowsIshouldstopaskingquestions.IwanteditpoliteanddistantwithCassidy,thesamewayIwantitwitheveryone.Learningpeopleismessy.Itcreatesthetacitexpectationofcaring,whichisevenmessier.
Butmylogichastakenanosedive.Theimpulsetolearnheriswinning.ChapterSeventeen
Cassidy
Wow,hishands.
Iknowit’scriminallyweirdtomakehimdothis,butmybodydoesn’tcare.Mymuscleshumwithrelief.Myheadstillhurts,butit’ssubsidingathistouch.
Butadifferentkindofachecropsupinotherpartsofmybodythelongerhishandsareonme.ThelesspainI’min,themoretherestofmybodystirs.It’sasthoughhe’sdivertedallthebloodfrommyheadlower,lower,lower
Iwriggleuncomfortably,tryingtoshakeoffthesensations.It’sbeensuchalongtimesinceanyonehastouchedme.IthasnothingtodowithLuke.Orthesoundofhisvoiceinmyear.
Eveniftheimageofhimdressedasahot,happyDoctorWhonerddidlodgeitselfinmybrain.EvenifIhavethestrongurgetoleanintohim,pressmybacktohischesttofeelhisheat.
Ahotflushofembarrassmentrendersmyskinapermanentblush.
Enoughofthesethoughts.
Thoughtheyaren’tthoughts.Notfullyfledgedones.
Justcravings.
Mybrainisbabbling.Thatmustbewheremymouthgetsitfrom.
“Tellmemoreaboutthewedding,”hemurmurs.Thecoarsenessofhisvoicesendsgoosebumpsskatingdownmybacklikehe’sjustsaidsomethingfilthy.“Themed?Big?Small?Destination?”
“It’llbetheeventtoendalleventsattheBelAirBayClub.Killerviewsforanoutdoorceremony,gorgeousballroom.Four-coursedinner,areleaseofdoves,allthatcrap.Palate-cleansingsorbets,thegroomsmenarewearingGucci.It’sgoingtoberidiculous.Whenitcomestomysister,everythingisbests,mosts,andfirsts.”
“Firsts.Soshe’solder?”
“Shesureis.”
“Youtwomustgetalongwell,sinceyou’rehermaidofhonor.”
AhundredflashbulbimagesofmyandIsabelle’spastflitthroughmymind,abluroflaughter,secrets,andmoviemarathons.“Isabelleisprettycool.Everyonelovesher.”
Hemakeshisfavoritesound,anoncommittalhum.
“Herweddingwillbefun.Ididn’tmeantoimplyI’mnotexcited.Eventhoughit’sGuccianddoves.”
Heslideshisthumbloweronmyback,isolatinganewknot.Hepusheshard.Aninhumannoiseleavesmymouth.
Anactualmoan.
“Sorry,you—Thatfeelsgood,”Iblurt.“Yourhandsaregood.”
Asifthemoandidn’tadequatelyexplainit.Iftherewasanedit–undocommandinconversation,Iwouldsmashitsohardrightnow.Myskin,alreadyhot,growsathousandtimeshotter.
“Youdidn’t,”hesayscarefully,“implyyouaren’texcited.Andwhowouldn’tbe,withGuccianddoves?Hallmarksofagreatwedding.”
Igobbleuphiswords,gratefulforthediversion.“I’mstressedaboutgoinghome,incasethatisn’tobvious.”
“Notabigfanofevents?”
“Notabigfanofhome.Notbecauseofmysister—it’smymom.ShethinkseverysinglethingIdoisamistake,everythingIloveispointless,andmylifeis‘meandering.’”Iwinceatmyownadmission.“Sorry,thatwasTMI.”
Myeyesflyopen,andIfindhiminthemirror,staringbackatme.Adifferentkindofknotcoilsitselfinmybody.Thisoneinmychest.
“Nottoomuchinformation.”Hebreakseyecontact,peeringdownathishands.“Keeptalking.”
“ShetoldmetocometoCalifornialastweektohelpwiththewedding,butIknewthatwasherwayofgettingearlyaccesssoshe’dhavetimetoproperlydissectmebeforethefestivitiesbegan.Myjob,myweight,mylifeinAsheville—whatevercrumbsIdrop,sheuses.Shetoldmeshe’dpayformyflight,whichwasatesttoseeifIneededherto.WhenIrejectedtheoffer,shewentaftermy‘trackrecordofcrappychoices.’”
“Choices?”heasksgruffly.
It’sapalpablerelief,gettingallthisout.Ormaybethatsensationcomesfromthewayhe’snowworkingthetightspacebetweenmyshoulderblades.“She’sbeenextramadlatelybecauseIwon’ttakeheruponheroffertopayforanMBAorlawschool,soit’sallfuelforher.Ididn’tevenwanttofinishundergrad,andonlygraduatedbytheskinofmyteeth,motivatedbythefearI’dspendtherestofmylifehearingaboutitfromher.”
“I’mhearingyoudon’twanttogobacktoschool.”
“Never.SchoolhasalwaysbeenIsabelle’sthing.AndI’dneverwantmymomtopayforit,evenifIweretopursuesomething.Butshedoesn’tgetit.”
“Youwanttodothingsonyourown.Yourway.Withouthearingaboutwhythey’rerightorwrong.”
“Yes.”Myheartstutters.“That’sexactlyit.”
Hishandsslowtoastop,lingeringonmyback.Mybreathcatchesatthefeelofhisroughpalmsastheyslideoncemoreovermyskin,notmassaging.
Just…touching.
Theydriftlower,landingabovemyelbows,beforereturningtomyshoulders.TheacheIthoughtwasundercontrolexplodeseverywhereinmybodyallatonce
No.Thisisnotanattraction.
Hisfingersskateupmyneck.
ThemangoesoutofhiswaytopointouthowSomethingElseyouareateveryopportunity.Ifyouwereattracted,itwouldbeone-sided.
“Didithelpyourheadache?”Hetracesthehairlineatthenapeofmyneck,shootingsparksacrossmyskin.Myheadtipsbackinvoluntarily,seekingpressure.“ShouldIkeepgoing?”
Heissofarawayfromyourtypethatyourtypewouldn’tbeabletofindhimwithapre-programmedGPS.Becauseyourtypeis…
Whattheheckismytype,again?
“Ishould—”Ipushtoastand,andmybodyimmediatelycriesatthelackofcontact.
HemovestotheedgeofthebedjustasIturntofacehim.Inearlysmackhiminthefacewithmychest.Electricityskittersdownmyspineastheinsideofhislegsbrushtheoutsidesofmine.Helooksupatme,eyessearching.I’mgrippedbytheurgetorunmyhandsthroughhishairandguidehisfacetothehollowofmythroat.Iwanttofeelthewarmthofhisbreathonmyskin.
“—setanalarm,”Iwhisper.
“Youshouldsetanalarm,”heechoes,hisgazefixedfirmlyonmyface.Notoncedoesitdroptomychestorlower.
Decidedlynothistype.
“Thankyou.Forhelping.”
“Oh,don’tthankme,”hesaysinarush,shiftingpositions.
IarchabrowasItakeastepback.“Youjustdidmeahugefavor.I’mgoingtothankyou.”
“It’snothing,Cassidy.”
“It’ssomething.It’sfiveminutesofyourlifeyou’llnevergetback,alltomakemefeelbetter.”
Heleanshiselbowsonhisthighsandglancesatthetelevision.“Iwould’vedoneitforanyone.”
Dismissive.That’stheonlywaytodescribehistone.
Iswallowdownapotentcocktailofvindicationandembarrassment.ItwasbecauseIwasapersonincrisisthathetouchedmelikethat.Hewould’vedoneitforanyonesuffering.Hishandsonmeweretheequivalentofagiftedblueslushie.
Touchingme,inparticular,didn’tlighthisbodyonfirethewayitdidmine.
“Right.”Ismilethebiggestfakesmileanyonehaseverfake-smiled.“Ofcourseyouwould.”
…
WhenIreturnfromthebathroomafterbrushingmyhairandteeth,Lukeispassedoutonhisbackinthemiddleofmybed.
Notquitethemiddle.He’snotthediameterofthecircle.
Ishakemyhead.Mathisasstupidasacircularbed.He’stakingupspaceismypoint.Hisshirtishalfuntucked,andhisshoesarestillon.
Withaheavysighfornoone’sbenefitbutmyown,Iapproach.Thisismyclamshell,andIintendtosleepinit.Butnotnexttohisshoes.
SettingtoworkasthethemesongtoMatchGame’76providesabackgroundscore,Igentlypullhisshoesoffhisfeet.Thefirstonegivesmenotrouble,butthesecondhitchesonthewayoff.
Lukestirs,andIfreeze.
Hishandmovesoverhisfaceandstallsonhisglasses.Hegrumblessomethingcompletelynonsensical,astringofsleep-addledsounds.
Icrawltowardhimandremovetheglassesfromhisfaceandplacethemonthetinyalabasterendtable.
Herollstohisside.Hiswordisawhisper.“Mom.”
“Um…notyourmom,”Iwhisperback,mynosewrinklinginconfusion.
Hiseyesarescrewedshut,andhismouthisgentlypartedlikehe’ssleeping.
“That’swhyI’mgoinghome,”hemumbles.Hemoveshishandbeneathhischeekandexhalesforalongbeat.
Iliedownbesidehim,leavingasmuchroombetweenusasthebedallows.“Areyouawake?”
Noanswer.
Asadlaughwithersupanddiesinmychest.IthinkIjustgotmorepersonalinformationoutofanunconsciousLukethanIeverhaveawakingone.
Hisfaceisperfectlyrelaxed,suchisthenatureofsleep.Imapthelengthofhisgoldenlashes,tracetheshapeofhiseyes.Hislips.
Istareathimforsolong,thoughtsdrifting,Ihavetoforcemyselftorollontomyotherside.
ThelastthingIneedistofallasleepthinkingabouthim.Mysubconsciousdoesn’tneedthefuel.ChapterEighteen
Luke
Alaughtrackbleedsintomydream,stirringmefromsleep.
I’msweatyandleaden,myheartracing.Onebyone,limbscomeintomyawareness.
Mychestpressedagainstherback.
Ourlegs,threaded.
Myfacenuzzledinthecrownofherhead.
Myarmdrapedoverher.She’ssogoddamnwarm.
Thetelevisionlaughtracksoundsagain,snappingmefromahaze.Iliftmyheadaninchandgetaneyefulofredhair.
Shit
Ipassedout.Cassidydid,too,apparently.Wemust’verolledintoeachother,andourbodiesnotchedtogetherbecausethat’sjusthowbodiesfit.
Istarttoseparatefromherandshestirs,wrigglingagainstme.Iholdmybreathandwaitforhertosettle.
Painstakinglycarefulsoasnottojostleher,Ieasemybodybackward.MyheartbeatissopowerfulIwouldn’tbesurprisedifshestillfeltitfromafootaway.Iglanceattheclock.Justshyofmidnight.
Uncomfortablyalert,Iforcemyselftostareattheceilingandattempttocalmtheracinginmychestbyremindingmyselfit’sCassidyIwastouching,awomanwhoI’mfairlysuregetsoffonpressingmybuttons,whoIwillneverseeagainafterthistrip.
Getsoffmaynotbethesmartesttermformetobethinkingrightnow.
Idon’tneedtothinkofCassidygettingoff,evenmetaphorically.ThoughthesoundsshemadewhenIwasrubbingherheadacheawayhavetakenresidenceinmybrainandinfiltratedmydreams.Ibetthat’sonlyaglimpseintothesoundsshe’dmakeifItouchedhereverywhere.She’ssovocalatbaseline,Ican’tevenimagine—
Iwon’timagine.
Frustrationclawsitswaythroughmybody,squeezingmybones.Ifellasleephard,wokeuphard,andthisisnotthewaytosolvethatproblem.
It’sjustCassidy.Shedancesinpublic,givesabsolutelynotonefuckaboutaplanforherlife,andwearseveryerrantemotiononhersleevelikeabadgeofhonor.Completelyconsumedbywhatevermomentshe’slivingin,withwhoevershe’slivingitwith.
Sheisseashantiesinaretrodiner.Sheisthisover-the-topmotelroomthatcouldverywellbeaperfectreplicaofherbedroomathomeandIwouldn’tbesurprisedintheleast.Thosejellyfishinthewallremindmeofher,floatingalong,completelyunencumbered.
Unburdened.
I’veneverrelatedtoanyonelessinmyentirelife.
Andyet,goddamnit,IdothethingIshouldn’tdoandturnonmysidetofaceher.
Fuck,she’sjustasprettywhenshe’ssleepingassheiswhenshe’sawake.Herhair,letloosefromitsearlierbun,looksassmoothasIbetitwouldfeelifItouchedit.Irollmyeyesasthephrasefiremopturnsoverinmybrain,thewayCassidyhaddescribeddyeingitwithSharpieinkbackatthediner.Whowouldthinktotrythatonhairthisnice?
Cassidy.That’swho.
Sherollsontoherback,asthoughshesomehowfeltmelookingandwantedtogivemeaproperview.Hermouthstealsmyattention.Istallthere,mygazetracingtheshape.Thereisnoexcuseforthewaythoselipsaffectme,justthecoldhardtruthofit:hermouthdoesitformeinawaynotmuchelseeverhas.ItunlocksaspecialinterestIdidn’tknowIpossessed.Iwanttopinchherlipsbetweenmyfingerstoseeifthey’reassoftandsuppleastheylook.Apartofmewantstotestthemwithmyteeth.
Butthat’snottheonlyspecialinterestIhave,apparently.Inthepast,whenWillwouldsaysuchpoeticthingsas“I’maboobsguy,”Ineverunderstoodwhythefuckthatneededspecifying.Whodoesn’tlikeboobs?Seemslikeaforegoneconclusion.
AndthenIsawCassidy’sassinyogapants.Dancedoesincrediblethingstothehumanbody.Inowunderstandtheprimalneedtoannounceyourallegiancetoapart.
Enoughdwelling.She’sapretty,sometimesinfuriatingwoman,andifIdon’tstopthinkingabouther,I’mgoingtodosomethingstupid,likeentertainideas
Idon’tneedideas.
AndIreallydon’tneedthispanicinmychestwhenIlookather.Thissand-slipping-through-an-hourglasssensationthatmakesmefeelunbalanced.
Touchingherwasabadidea.NotthattherewasachanceinhellI’dhavelethersitthereinpain.ButnowshethinksI’mnicerthanIamforclaimingI’ddothisforanyone.
Iwouldn’t.Formostpeople,Iwould’vewalkedthestreetsandtrackeddownTylenol,oratleasttriedhardertofindanotheroptionbeforejumpingatthechancetotouchthem.
Icouldn’tletherknowhowmuchIwantedtodoitforherbecauseitscrewswithmytiredbrain.Thewholethingisanon-starter.Relationshipsaren’tpartofmyreality.
Cassidywillnotbeapartofmyrealityafterthistrip.
AndIwon’texaminewhythatstingsorwhystaringatherwhileshesleepsfillsmewithasenseoflongingI’veneverfelt,becausenoneofmylifecircumstancesarechanging,andwishingthingsweredifferentgetsmenowhere.
Ican’thavewhatotherpeoplehave.I’vetriedandfailed.
Nowomanwilleversettleforbeingthirdtoyourfamilyandjob.Theywanttobeyourpriority.
Andwhenyoucan’tgivethemeverything,apparentlytheyhavenochoicebuttofuckyourcoworkerinyourbed.
Cassidy’seyesflutteropen,andourgazestangle.Mystomachplummets,asthoughI’vebeencaughtdoingsomethingwrong.
Shejoltsuprightandwipeshereyewiththeheelofherhand.“S’matter?”
“Justgotbackfromthebathroom,”Ilie.“Themovementinthebedmust’vewokenyou.”
“Themovement,”sherepeats.Afewsecondsstutterbybeforeunderstandingdawnsonherface.Hercheekstingepinkasthelowlightofthetelevisionflickersoverherskin.“SorryifIrolledtooclose.”
Somethingtwistsinsideofme.Shehasnoideahowclosewetrulywere.“Please,Ipassedoutinyourbed.I’mthesorryone.”
Shemovesontoherside,huggingherpillow.Facingawayfromme.
Imentallycommittotrackingdownsomesheetsforthepull-out.
Butfirst,Itakethecoldestshowerofmylife.ChapterNineteen
Luke
Troubleisaseven-letterword.Andthatseven-letterworddoesn’tsayawordinthecaborsparemeaglanceuntilweboardthetrain.
Shecomestoahaltassoonaswepassthesleepercabins.“Thisisus.”
Thecoachareaonthistrainhasfourseatstoapod,withrowsoftwofacingeachother.Asmalltablewithacrackedplasticfacadesitsbetween.
Staringatstrangersfortwenty-somethinghours.
Thesettingisrifeforsmalltalk.Myfreshhell.Theonlyredeemingqualitiesarethefloor-to-ceilingwindowsthatoffersomethingelsetolookat,oncethesunisup.
Whichitwon’tdoforhours
CassandIstallattheedgeofourpod.Ipointatthechoices.“Windoworaisle?”
Sheshrugs.“Dealer’schoice.”
Itakethespotbythewindow,andsheplopsdownbesideme.Thetwoseatswe’refacingareoccupiedbyanoldercouple.ThekindofpeopleI’dexpecttobecruisingthecountryinanRVwiththeirgrandkidsandgoldenretriever,notsnoozingonanAmtrak.
Cassrollsherneckandexhalesslowly.
Ikeepmyvoicelow,leaningclosertoherear.“Areyouokay?”
Shelooksatme,andoureyeslock.MystomachdropslikeImissedthebottomstepofastaircase.Afootofdistancebetweenourfacesmightaswellbeaninchforhowclosewefeel.
Herlashesflutterassheshiftsaway.Hergazedropstoherhands,foldedinherlap.“Yes.Could’veusedtenmorehoursofsleep,that’sall.Mybrainisfoggy.”
“Right.”Reliefthatshe’snotupsetcomesonwaytoofast,toostrong.“Metoo.”
Icursemyselfforjumpingtoconclusionswhenhermoodisnoneofmybusinessinthefirstplace.“Maybeyou’llfallasleeponcewegetgoing.”
Shedoesn’tlookatme.“Maybe.”
WhatIwouldn’tgiveforabookrightnow.Oravideogame.AnentirevirtualrealityheadsetsoIcouldinsertmyselfintoanalternatesetting.
Lastnightchangedthings.It’slikeweleftawindowopenwhilewesleptandwokeuptodifferentair.
IriflethroughthebackpackCassidyboughtfromWalmartuntilmyfingersgrasptheburnerphone.I’llwork.Noquickerwaytodistractmyself.
Myhopesaredashedinabouttensecondswhenthephonewon’tconnecttowifi
Shovingitbackinthebag,Iclosemydryeyes.NotenoughsleepandnoVisinedropsareabadcombination.MinutesmeldtogetherasIdriftoff.
Ineverremembermydreams.
ThankGodforthat.
…
Asoft,cheerfulvoicesneaksintomybrain.“RememberBarcelona,Howard?Ibetwelookedjustlikethem,sleepingontheplane.”
“’CourseIdo,”arumblyvoiceanswers.“Youcouldn’tmakeitatwo-hourflightwithoutsleeping,letalonetransatlantic.Yousleptsolongmylegswerenumb.”
Aneasylaugh.“ThatwasmyfavoriteofourSpaintrips.Thetapaswerethebestwe’veeverhad.ThoughIknowyou’repartialtoMadrid.”
“I’mpartialtowhateveryoulove,Alice.”
Ipryopenmyeyes.It’sstilldarkoutside,butthecabinlightsglowsoftlyoverhead.
Aweightshiftsinmylap.Mygazefallstoawarm,curled-upCassidy.Herheadrestsonmyleg,thecurveofherneckperfectlyalignedwithmythigh.Ablanketofhairobscuresherfaceandherkneesaretuckedintoherchest.
Forthesecondtimeinamatterofhours,I’vewokenupcuddlingher.
Mybodytenses,waitingforhertorouseasIsitupstraighter.Shedoesn’tsomuchasflinch.
MyfingertipsskimherwarmcheekasImoveherhairaside.Soshecanbreathe.Amouthfulofhairwouldbeaterriblewaytowakeup.
AndthenItuckitbehindherearforsafekeeping.
Asensationskittersupmyspine,downmyarms.Itsettlesinthehandnowhoveringnearherchin.Fuckme,Ihopedtosleepthiscreepingfeelingoff—
“She’sgotyounow,”thecardigan-cladmanacrossthepodsayswithacrookedsmile,pointinganarthriticfingeratCass.“You’retrapped.”
Ipeerdown,andheatsizzlesmyskin.Wordspinballaroundmyheadandtakeawhiletosortthemselvesout.
ThankgodRogelioexercisedmentornepotismwhenhegavememyjoboutofcollegeorImayneverhavelandedone.Iamconversationallyincompetent.
“Maybeso,”Ifinallymanage.
Thewhite-hairedwomantohisright—Alice,hecalledher—reachesoverandliftsthebillofhiscapsomoreofhisforeheadisvisible.“Ithinkwewokehimwithourtittering.”
TheShrinersChildren’sHospitallogoonhishatdredgesupoldmemoriesofSophieapplyingforfreecareformyoldestniecetogetcorrectiveinsertsforhershoes.Howardiseitheradoctororsupportstheorganizationsomeotherway.Asainteitherway,asfarasI’mconcerned.
Thissoftensmetotheideaofsmalltalk.
“Youdidn’twakeme.”Iscanthebagsattheirfeet.HercolorfulquiltedtoteparkednexttohisplainleathersatchelprodsapartofmeIcan’tidentify.
MyleftarmgrowsheavywithtensionfromtryingtokeepitoffCass.Igiveupandletitlieacrossher.Myhandlandsnearthecrookofherhip.Itfitsalittletoonicelythere.
“You’llhavetoexcuseus.”Howardliftsalargelunchboxoffthegroundandstruggleswiththetinyzipper.Whenhefinallyworksitopen,heprocurestwoTupperwaresfilledwithscrambledeggsandplacesoneonthetableinfrontofAlice.“Whenmywifegetsgoingtalkingaboutourtravels,there’snostoppingher.”
“We’vehadsomanyadventures.”Sherustlestwoforksfromthelunchbox’ssidepocket—silver,notplastic—andsetsthetable.
Howardpullsoutaquart-sizebagwithaslicedgrapefruitanddepositsitnexttohereggs.ShelocatesapaperpepperpacketinhertoteandplacesitdelicatelybesideHoward’scontainerbeforeunearthingtwothermoses.
Theyareawell-oiledbreakfastmachine
Whenthetableisfullyprepared,theydigin.Thepiercingsmellofcitruswaftsthroughthetinycabin.
Aboutaminuteaftertheyfinish,Howardpatsthepocketsofhiscardigan.Helocatesaplasticcapsulefilledwithpillsandsetsitonthetable.Alicewordlesslyaccepts,swallowingthecontentswithaswigofherdrink.
Apowerfulachelodgesitselfatthebaseofmythroat.
Alicesmilessoftlyovertherimofherthermos.“Travelingforbusinessorforpleasure?”
Cassidymakesanoise,andIstartle.
Alaugh.Ofcourseshelaughsinherdreams.
Theacheinexplicablygrowsmorepainful.Itearmygazeawayfrommylap.“Sorry,uh—seeingfamily.”
Alicehums.“Hownice.”
Ialmostwanttoissueacorrection.Notyourkindoffamily.NotthetypeofrelationshipyouchooseandnurtureandtaketoBarcelonaandbackuntilyouknoweachothersowellyoucanhaveentireconversationswithoutwords.Mybreakfastsaren’tchoreographedactsofloveanddevotion.
I’llneverhavethatkindoffamily,becauseI’vealreadygotone.
Amomwithdiabetesthatsheexacerbateswithrecklessdrinking—somuchsoshe’sputherselfinnotone,buttwodiabeticcomas.WhoalsohasCOPDfromalifetimeofsmokingcigarettes,eventhoughSophieandIbeggedhertoquitforyears.Whorunswhenshe’sonabenderandfucksupdays—sometimesweeks—ofourliveswhenwecan’tfindher.
Asisterwhodidn’tchoosetobecheatedonorabandonedbyherlow-lifeex-husband.AndtwobeautifulnieceswhodeservebetterthanthefatherlessupbringingmysisterandIhadbutarestuckwithitanyway.
Theydependonme.Whenshithitsthefaninmyfamily,financiallyorotherwise,I’mtheonetheyturnto.AndI’mcommittedtobeingthekindofmanwhoupholdsmyresponsibilitiesnotjustwhenit’sconvenient,butalways.EvenwhenthatmeansIdon’tgettohavealifeofmyown.
Inthepast,Ihardlycared.Ineverfeltlikesomethingwasmissing.LifeiseasiestwhenIdon’twantanythingatall.
BecauseifIweretowantthat—breakfastfortwo,forever—I’dbesettingmyselfupforaworldofhurt.
Butthosefuckingthermosesgrewarmsandnowthey’rereachinginsidemychesttowringoutmyheart.
AliceeyesCassidy.“Howlonghaveyoutwobeentogether?”
Myemptygutchurns.“We’renottogether.We’re…”
Adullbuzzingintensifiesinmyear,likeaswarmofpissed-offbeeshaschosenmyheadastheirnewhomeandIwon’tlettheminside.Thelongerthesentencehangsincomplete,themoreinsistenttheybecome.
WhendidIbecomeasdramaticasCassidy?
It’snotbees.It’sthesoundofmyowngoddamnbrainstrugglingwithasimplequestion.
Whatarewe?
Anotherquestioneclipsesthefirst:wouldIhavegivenonesinglefuckaboutthermosesorscrambledeggsifIhadn’tmether?
Ineedthistoswerveintophysical-attraction-onlyterritorybecauseIknowhowtoignorethat.Butwhateverthefuckishappeningtomerightnowisn’tjustphysical,andit’sstealingmyattention.It’sgrowinginsistent.
Cassidysquirms,bringingherhandbeneathhercheekasapillow.Herfingersdigintomythigh.
“Friends,”Isayevenly.
It’sallwecaneverbe.AndI’ddodamnwelltorememberthat.
“AliceandIstartedasfriends,”Howardsays,flickingeggoutofhismustache.
Aliceclaspsherwrinkledhandaroundhis.“HecametomyhouseeverysingledaywithadaisybecauseIsaidtheyweremyfavorite.”
Howardliftsherknucklestohismouthandplantsakiss.“Iwaswife-hunting.”
Hewhisperssomethingelse,andtheybothlaugh.SuddenlyIfeellikeanintruder.MygazedropstoCassidy’ssereneprofile.Lookingatherisfarpreferabletostaringattwogoogly-eyedmarriedpeople.
Icouldwakeher.She’dgetakickoutofthesetwo.Butshelookspeaceful.Heattransfersfromhertome,metoher,onacircuitinalltheplaceswetouch.
Thetrainlurchestoastop.
“Anotherone,”Howardgrumbles.
Iliftmyhead.“Anotherwhat?”
“Right-of-wayissue.Freighttrainsaresupposedtoyieldtopassengertrains,buttheyneverdo.”Heshiftshisattentiontowardthewindow.“Iworkedinlogisticsforfortyyears.Farandwide,freightisthebiggestcauseofcommuterdelays.”
Cassidystirs.Sheblinksopenhereyes,getsaneyefulofdeniminmylap,andshootsuplikeshe’sbeentased.
Iadjustmylegs,whichhavelostallcirculation.“Welcomebacktothelandoftheliving.”
“Oh.”Hergazedropstomyjeans.“OhGod,no.”Shescrubsthesideofherface.
Somuchforpeaceful.
Myenthusiasmcoolsatthehorrifiedlookonherface.“Farbeitfromyoutohaveacalm,reasonablereactiontosomethingasbasicasfallingasleep.”
“Youcould’vewokenme.Youdidn’thavetoletmesleep…there.”Hergazeflitsbetweenmyfaceandmylap.
Ifeigninnocence.“There?”
Herblue-eyedglarehitsmelikeashotofcaffeine.“YouknowwhatImean.”
“Youlookedquitecomfortable.”
“I…well,youshouldgetalesscomfortablelap!”
Damnifthatcomplimentdoesn’tdelightme.DoubledamnifIdon’tenjoyverbaljoustingjustasmuchasIlikedwatchinghersleep.“Qualitycomeback.”
Sherollshereyesandshiftsinherseat.Hergazelandsonthecouple.Asisherdefaultresponsetostrangers,shelivenslikeaflowerpivotingtowardthesun.“Hithere!I’mCassidy.”
“Hello,dear.I’mAlice,andthisismyhusbandHoward.Wewerejusthavingalovelychatwithyoursweetfriend.”
CassidyshootsmealookthatIcannotevenbegintodecipherbeforeturningherwinningsmileonAlice.“I’msoglad.Wherearewe?Ohdang,didImissColorado?”
Howardissquintingthroughthedarkenedwindow.“NearingTopeka,whenwegetgoingagain.”
Topeka.Mybrainstalls.“That’sstrange.Ithoughtwe’dbefartherbynow.”IfrownatCassidy.“Yousaidwe’darrivetomorrowmorningoriginally,right?Orthismorning,Ishouldsay.Whichmeansevenwithourthree-ishhourdelay,weshouldstillgethomeearlythisafternoon?”
Cass’sbrowsfurrow.“I’mconfused.We’renoteveninTopekayet?”
“Youtwowereasleepforourfirstdelay.Butthat’sthejoyofthetrain.It’sabeautiful,unhurriedjourney.”Howardsweepsabonyarmintheair,paintinganinvisiblepicture.“AreyouovernightingtoColorado?”
“LosAngeles,”Iclarify.
Howardadjustshiscap.“Oh,youmeanttomorrowmorning,then.”
Cassidy’sexpressionisthatofachildlostinashoppingmall:mostlypanickedandalittledefiant.“Wait,no.That’snotright.WeweresupposedtobeonthefasttraintoL.A.Thewebsitesaidit’darriveateighta.m.”
Howardliftsafinger.“Eighta.m.tomorrow.TheChief’stransittimeisthirty-sixhours,notaccountingforweatherandfreightdelays,obviously.We’vegotafewofthosealreadyinplay.”
Mycogsturnfaster.Iassumedthiswassomekindofbullettrainorsomething.Thirty-sixhoursisanentiredayandahalf.Andthat’sbest-casescenario?
“Butthewebsite…”Cassgrapplesformyarm.“CanIseethephone?”
Mylipspullintoagrimace.“Wifidoesn’twork.”
Judgingbythestrickenlookinhereyes,thissetbackisbeyondherlaststraw.Thisistheuniversethrowingalitmatchatherstrawhouseandleeringasiteruptsinflames.
Sheclosesherhandaroundmywristuntilnailsbitemyskin.“I’vemadeahugemistake.”ChapterTwenty
Cassidy
Thetrainisabust.
LukeandIpracticallyfalloverourselvesinourhastetoexitinTopeka,lestwegettrappedontheslow-rollingmotorsnake.I’mpersonenoughtoadmitIwasverywrongaboutthemeritsofthatmodeoftransport.
Mykingdomforacar.
Meanwhile,I’mdrowninginthemortificationofwakingupinthelapofamanwhodidnotinvitemethere.AndthefactIactuallylikedwakinguponhim,withhisstrongarmrestingonme,isevenmoreproblematic.
Lastnight,Itoldmyselfthedesirecoursingthroughmewasaone-off.Afluke.Thebiologicalresponsetobeingtouchedbytalentedhands.
Butthennightledtomorning,andIwokeupwithasinkingsuspicionI’dcuddledLukeinmysleep.Mybodyhummedallthewaytothetrainstation,likeitrememberedsomethingIdidn’t.
ThenIdreamedthingswhenIpassedoutonthetrain.MysubconsciousconjuredupalternateendingstothatmassagethatIcan’tevenentertainrightnowwithoutblushing.
IftheKansasCityAmtrakstationwasMountOlympus,Topeka’sistheUnderworld.It’sdingy,dark,andmakesmewanttoseekthelight.IpulluptheAmtrakwebsiteassoonaswegetwifi.“Howdotheyexpectanyonetoseethetiny,minisculeprintoftransittime?Theyshouldmakethatpartwaybigger!”
IcontinuetocursethewebsiteundermybreathasItrackdownthenearestcarrentalplace,whichtheinternetclaimsiswalkable.
Itdoesn’topenforanotherhourandahalf.Becauseofcourseitdoesn’t.
Wechoosetowastetimeatatinymom-and-popcoffeeshopcalledHittheGroundsRunnin’.
“MindifImakeafewworkcalls?”heasksaswewalkourbrewstoabistrotablenexttoawindow.
Iencouragehimwithaneagernodasweplopintoourchairs.Himmakingboringworkcallsisafantasticopportunityformetogetmyheadonstraightandconvertthestrangeenergybrewinginmybodybacktonormal.
Lastnightdidn’tchangeanything.Thismorning,andanysubsequentdreams,meannothing.HeisstillbossyLuke,wearerofstarchedshirts,haterofpeople,listenerofboringpodcastsand—
“Rogeliowouldn’twantyoukillingyourselfoverthis,Marcus.That’snottheintentionbehindthisreportingsystem.Ihatetothinkofyoutoilingawayatbusyworkyoucreatedforyourself.”Pause.“Tellmemoreaboutthat.”
IstealalookatLuke’sI’mlisteningexpressionasheleansbackinthechair,themusclesofhisarmflexedasheholdsthephonetohisear.
“Ithinkyou’rebeingalittlehardonyourself.There’sahugelearningcurve.That’swhywehavethesementorships.”
ThisisnotthecurmudgeonImetbackontheplane.
“It’snotabotheratall.AndI’llreachouttoCarlaassoonaswehangup.I’veworkedwithherteamplentyoftimes.Letmebetheliaisonuntilyougetyourfooting.”
Isawmylipstogether.Okay.Iguesshedoesn’tjustchewcalculatorsandpopulatespreadsheetsallday.Apparently,healsosolvesotherpeople’sproblemsforaliving.
HedialsCarlanext.Asgoodashewasatcalminghiscoworker,he’sdownrightmagicwiththisclient.Ineverwould’veguessedpensionsandretirementcouldbefunny,butLuke’slaughfizzeslikeanAlka-Seltzertabletinwaterastheydiscuss“thefinerpoints”ofsomethingorother.HisthirdcallisloadedwithindustryjargonandExcelformulatalk.Itisaflagrantdisplayofcompetencethatmakesmyhearthammer.
Hewrapshisbighandaroundhiscupandliftsittohismouth.Anicelyshapedmouththatmakesvaluationandlet’sbendthatdeadlinetoourwillsoundinterestingandmaybeevenalittlefilthy—
Nope.
MychairscratcheslinoleumasIpushawayfromthetable.Intheabsenceofanywheretoactuallygo,Ilopetowardthebaristaandaskforapen.
Doodleonnapkins.That’swhatI’lldo.WhileLukeprobablypullssixfiguresdoingimportantwork,I’lldrawstickfiguresonatinypapersquare.Fitting.
Aplanterboxoverflowingwithpinkbougainvilleasitsoutsidethewindow.IsketchthempoorlyasLuketakeswhathepromisestobehislastphonecall.
Mygazeflicksupfrommyatrociousdrawing,andIaccidentallycatchhiseye.
Hefaltershisspeech.Thecornersofhismouthliftintoatinysmile.
AllthecaffeineI’veconsumedkicksinatonce.Itistheheightofaleapwhenyou’reweightless,soaring,justbeforethedrop.
Afractionofasecondpassesbeforehe’sbacktotalking.Inmymisfiringbrain,it’sinfinitelylonger.
Hissmilekicksopenadoorinsideofmethatneedstostayshut.Thesamedoorhewaspoundingonwhenheletmesleeponhislap.
Thedoorthatprotectsmefromgettingaheadofmyself.
Fact:guyswiththeirlivestogetherliketheLukesoftheworldaren’tinterestedingirlslikeme.Successfulmenwantsomeonewithmatchingaccoladestoshowofftotheirfriends.Ortheywantsomeotherextreme—atamepersonwholetsthemshine,oralife-of-the-partytype.
Whateveritistheywant,I’mneverenoughofit.
Hishandmovesacrossthetabletowardthenapkinpile.Hestealsoneandcrooksafinger,beckoningmypen.
Hypnotized,Iwatchthegentlemovementsofhishandashewrites.
HespinsthenapkinsoIcanread.
Youokay?
Atleasthishandwritingisterrible.Strangely,thatcomfortsme.Ichewmycheekandcontemplatemyanswer.AmIokay?Sure.I’matthekids’tableoflifecomparedtothisman,tryingnottopanicthatwatchinghimworkwasdecidedlynotboring,butI’mswell.
Ipenmyresponse.
Doyourwork,mister.
Hestealsitbackandaddsanaddendum.
Thistime,whenheturnsthenapkintowardme,itfeaturesastickfiguredancer.Withlong,stick-yhairandasmilingface.She’seitherleapingordoingasplit.
Itisundeniablyme.Heevenaddedshoesshapedlikemine.
MypulseisawildanimalinmyneckasIliftmygaze.
Hischeeksareflushed,hishoodedeyescastdownashetapsarhythmonthetable.“IshouldhaveaccesstothatfilebyFriday.”
Itracethenapkinwiththepadofmyfinger,bloodheatinginmyveins.
Thisiswhatheseeswhenhelooksatme.
WhatdoIwanthimtosee?
Hepullsthephoneawayfromhiseartocheckthescreen.“Gottoletyougo,Diego.Errandstorun.”
Iattempttopiecemyselfbacktogetherasheexcuseshimselftotherestroom.Beforeheemerges,Ituckthenapkininahiddenbackpackpocket.Ican’tbringmyselftoleaveitbehind.
…
Afteramostlysilentwalk,wearriveexactlyeightminutesbeforetherentalshopisduetoopen.Imovetowardthehourssignonthesmudgedglassdoortoensureitmatchesthewebsite.
IpeekovermyshoulderatLuke,whohoversasIread.Hisgazesnapsup.
Ispintofacehim,huggingmychest.“Almostnostalgic,isn’tit?Waitinginlineforacarplacetoopen?”
Hismouthhooksintoahalfsmile.“Toosoon,Cass.Toosoon.”
Astronggustofcoolwindslicesthefootofspacebetweenus,buthisfonduseofthatnickname,pairedwiththemischievousglintinhiseyes,warmsme.
“Thiscan’tbecomfortable.”HereachesforwardanduntwiststhestrapsofmyWalmartbackpacksotheylieflatonmyshoulders.
Hishandsdon’tlinger,buthisgazedoes.Itroamsmyface,hitchingonmymouth.Itmoveslower,burningmyneck,mycollarbone,beforeitdartsbackupagain.
Myheartclimbsintomywindpipe.
I’mshakenbyaneedtoperforminsomeway,tokeepthoseeyesonme.ButI’mfrozen,suspendedinthemoment.Weswayafractioncloser,analmostimperceptibledistanceifIwasn’tsoawareofeveryinchbetweenus.
He’sstilllooking—
HeblinkstowardtheboundlessKansassky.“Uh—Ihadalogisticsthought.”
Thestampedeinmychestgrindstoahalt.“Alogisticsthought?”
“Yes.”Hedragshishandthroughhishair.“Oneperkofgettingacar,otherthaneverything,isIcangobymybankinDenverandgetatemporarydebitcard.”
Debitcards.Routes.Logistics.“Right.Great.”
IneedLuke-freeair.
Headspinning,Iextendahand.“Sincewehaveafewminutestokill,andI’mnotinphysicalheadacheagonyorhalfasleep,I’mgoingtocheckinwithmypeople.”
Hepassesthephone,andIwhiparoundthebuildingforsomeprivacy.
Leaningagainstthescratchyconcretewall,Idialthebride-to-befirst.LasttimeIupdatedherviatext,thecatererandfloristweresupposedlyemailingherpurchaseordersdetailingournewagreements.Ineedtoensureshe’sreceivedthemandmakesureshe’shappywiththesubstitutions.
Thingswillstillrunsmoothly,evenifI’mnotthere.
Therentalparkinglotstretchesoutbeforeme,mostlyempty,andtheendlesshorizonbeyondthat.
WhenIsabelledoesn’tpickup,IpluginBerkeley’snumber.Sheanswerswithagrumbling,“Berkeley’sDenofIniquities,howmayIhelpyou?”
“That’showyouanswerthephonetoanunknownnumber?”
“It’saMissourinumber.ItwaseitheryouorarobocallfromMedicare.”
“Haha.DidIwakeyou?”
“Onlyfromthedeepestsleep.Maybewestopmakingahabitoftheseearlymorningcalls?”
“Sorry.”Idrawacirclewiththetoeofmyboot.“How’sitgoing?”
“Well,I’matyourmother’shousewithoutyou,sothat’snotideal.AndI’vealreadyransackedyourchildhoodbedroomandfoundnothingfun.”
“Joke’sonyouforthinkingI’dleaveanythingfuninthehousewheredreamsgotodie.”
Shesnorts.“Fairenough.Whereareyou?”
“Funnystory.We’reinTopeka,abouttorentanothercar.”
“Topeka?”
“Yeah.”Heatcreepsupmyneck.Themagnitudeofmytrainerrorgivesmesomethingelsetofocuson,otherthanLukegazinginmyeyesandthinkingaboutlogistics.“TurnsoutImisreadtheAmtrakwebsiteanditwasgoingtobeaneternitybeforewemadeithome.Ican’tbelieveIactuallythoughtwe’dgethomeovernight.AllthewaytoL.A.Whatiswrongwithme?”
“Nothingiswrongwithyou.Mistakeshappen.Ifacargetsyouhomefaster,caritis.”
“Ishould’vejustgottenusacaryesterday.Ididn’tthinkitthrough.”
“Titleofyourmemoir,whichjustsohappenstobemyfavoritebook.Nowstopbeatingyourselfup.Listen,ontootherimportantthings:yoursister.”
Mystomachclenches.“Oh?Everythingokay?”
“She’sactingweird.Admittedly,Idon’tknowheroutsideofwhatyou’vetoldme.Butshewasherelastnightdroppingoffacrap-tonofstuffinherbedroom.Like…alotofstuff.Shemust’vegoneinandoutofherroomfifteentimeswithgiantRubbermaids.”
“Huh.Interesting.Probablyjustweddingprops.”Ifrown.“ThoughI’dassumethevenuehasallthat.”
“Lookedlikeshewasmovingin.”
Worryslithersdownmyspine.“Didyouaskherwhatitwas?”
Herlaughisabriefpulse.“Don’tyouthinkthatwould’vebeenabitintrusive,seeingasyoursisterbarelyknowsme?”
“Isometimesforgetyou’renotrelatedtous.”Istandupalittlestraighter.“ItriedtocallIsabellebeforeyou.Noanswer.”
“I’llgodownstairsandcheckforher.Shesleptherelastnight.”
Thisnewsdoesn’tquiteland.“What?She’sbeentryingtospendqualitytimewithherfiancéallweek.Whywouldshesleepawayfromhim?”
“IbarelyknowthesepeopleandjustarrivedhereyesterdayinaLyft.Yourguessisbetterthanmine.”
“Right.Sorry.”
Herthunderingfootstepsreachthereceiver,followedbyabriefpause.“Ah,excellent!Here’sthebride,sippingcoffeeandlookinglikeamodel.Puttingyouonspeaker,Cass.”
“Hey.Howareyoufeeling,Bells?Didyougetmytextsaboutthevendors?”
Mysister’svoicefloatsthroughthephone.“Yes.Sorry.Meanttorespondlastnight.Brainfog.”
Thedistantedgeinhervoiceratchetsupmyconcernbyafactoroffifty.Icanonlyhopeit’sbridalnervesandthatshe’llbebacktoherusualenergetic,hummingbird-esquestateofbeingsoon.“Noworries.Ijustwantedtomakesuretheyemailedaboutthereplacementflowersandmenuliketheyweresupposedto.”
“Yeah.Everythinglooksfine.Thanksforhandlingthat.”
Iblinktoofast.Fineisnotthegoalhere.“Areyousure?BecauseIknowwiththeflowersespeciallyyouhadaveryspecificvision.”
“They’llbelovely,I’msure.”
Shecouldn’tsoundmoredisengagedifshetried.
“Andyouareokaywiththehalibut?”Ipress.
“Sure.Fishisfish.”
“Bells,you’relikethreedaysoutfromthebiggestdayofyourlife.Whathappenedtotheurgency?Lasttimewetalkedyouweresofiredup—”
“IsthatCassidy?”
“Mom?”Mygriponthephonetightens.Ihazardalookleftandrightbeforerememberingshecan’tseeme.
Hervoicegrowslouder.Iimagineshe’shoveringoverIsabelletoyellclosertothephone.“Yes,it’syourmother,inthehomewhereshelives.Whereareyou?”
“Cassisonherway.It’sfine,”saysIsabelle.
“No,it’snotfine.Isabellehasaveryimportantworkpresentationattwoandwascountingonyouforafulldayofprep.NottomentiontonightisdinnerattheFormaggiowithRand’sfamily.They’reexpectingyou.YouknowhowGrandmaDotis,sojudgmental.Ifyouaren’tthere,itreflectspoorlyonme.”
“Workpresentation?”Myvoiceissosmallitbarelysoundslikemine.“Isabelle,youdidn’ttellme.”
“Becauseit’snotyourproblem.Listen,Iappreciateallofyou—Mom,you’regoingtomakemedropmycoffeewithyourhovering—butnoneofthisisthatbigadeal,allright?”mysistersnaps.“It’sjustawedding.”
“Isabelle,don’tdownplaythesignificancetospareyoursister’sfeelings.Cassidy,maybeifyoutreatedthisweeklikeitmattered—”
“Igetit,okay?”MybackdragsagainstthewallasIdroptotheground.“Imessedup.ShouldaflownDelta.Butwe’vegoteverythingundercontrol.”
Berkeley’skill-you-with-kindnessvoicefillstheline.“IfImayinterject,Cassisunderalotofstressherself,andtheyaredrivingasfastastheycan—”
“They?Who’sthey?”
Ismackmyforeheadwithmypalm.
“Oh,didIsaythey?Imeant…she?”Berkeleycorrectsinarush.
“Areyoudrivingwithsomeone?”Momasks.“Who?”
“Afriend.”Isuckinabreath,chokingondust.“Afriendismakingthetripwithme.”
Wronganswer.
“Waitasecond.You’reonajoyride?Whydidn’tyoujustsaythatfromthestart?Makesahellofalotmoresensethaneverythingelseyou’vetoldmeaboutthistrip.”
“It’snotajoyride.”Therisingtideofangerthreatenstospillover.Shewillfullymisunderstandsme.Misinterpretsmeateveryturn.“Imetsomeonewhiletraveling,andwe’resplittingcosts,tryingtogetthereasfastaspossible.”
“Howdireisyourfinancialsituationifyou’resplittingcostswithstrangers?”
“Mom!”
“Cass,Ithink—yup,you’rebreakingup.Ohno!”Berkeleycries.“Hello,hello?”
Thecallcutsoffandmyscreenfadestoblack.
Itipmyheadbackandexhale.
Tunnelvisionisafunnything.Forawhilethere,Ialmostbelievedfixingtheweddingproblemswouldfixeverythingelse.ThatI’darrivehomeandthingswouldbefine.Tolerable,atleast.
Ialmostforgotthatsomethingscan’tbefixed.AndinMom’seyes,oneofthosebrokenthingsisme.
Now,allIcandoisracehomeandtrytoforgetthattruthalloveragain.
…
LukecirclesthecherryredMustangconvertible.“Ofallthecars,youwantthisone?Isthisthemostpracticalchoice?”
Ishrug,myshoulderfeelinglikeitweighsathousandpounds.“Nothingmatters.Mightaswellgetthenicecar,sincethisweekis…”Ibitemylip,trappingtheuprisingofemotionbeforeitescapes.“Butifyouthinkit’ssilly,I’llgobackinsideandexchangeitforaCamryorsomething.”
“No,no.Ifthisiswhatyouwant,thisiswhatwe’regetting.”
Inodonce.
Hereachesforthecarkeyinmyhand,catchingmeoffguard.Idropitinhispalm.
“Youokay,Cass?”
“I’mfine.”
AndifIwasn’t,talkingaboutitwouldunravelme,andthelastthingIneedrightnowistospillevenmoreofmygutstothismanwhohasalreadyhadtopeelmeoffthewallsduringahailstorm,massagetheacheoutofmyhead,andcalmmedownatmultiplestopsonthisdisastersprint.
BecausethatwouldmeanIneedsupport,whichIdon’t.Ishouldbeabletohandleallthisstuffonmyown,andIam
Anddoingabang-upjobatit,byMom’sestimation.
Icurlupinthepassenger’sseat,wishingIwastiredenoughtosleep.Orthatitwasn’ttoocoldoutsidetoputthetopdown.
Restingmyheadagainstthewindow,Ifixmygazeontheceruleansky.“Letmeknowifyouwantmetotakeover.”
“It’sokay.I’mhappytodrive.”
“What,scaredI’llcrashintoastalkofwheat?”
Lukeglancesatme.“Ofcoursenot.Whywouldyousaythat?”
“Idon’tknow.Nevermind.”
Andwiththat,webothfallsilent.
IreplaytheconversationwithIsabelle,Mom,andBerkeleyinmyheadonaloopasfieldswhirpast.Timedissolvesinablurofbrownsandblues.
BeforeImaketheconsciousdecisiontospeak,mymouthisrunning.“Lastnight,yousaidsomethinginyoursleepaboutyourmom.”
Scrubbinghischin,heletsoutalongsigh.“I’mheadinghometoseeher.She’s…notwell.”
“I’msorrytohearthat.”
Hisknucklesarewhiteonthewheel.“Thankyou.”
“Doyoutwogetalong?”
Assoonasthewordsareout,Irealizehowridiculousthequestionis.LukeistheposterchildforIdealSon.MymotherwouldlovetohaveakidwhodrivesunderthespeedlimitandworksanimpressivejobIhadtoGooglebecauseit’soutofmydepth.
Ofcourseheandhismomgetalong.
Hemakesasoundlikeheisn’tsurehowtoanswer.“Forthemostpart.”
“What’sshelike?”
“She’sveryfunny,”hesays,afarawaytinttohisvoice.“AndoneofthemostloyalpeopleonEarth.Whenshe’satherbest,she’ddoanythingforme,mysister,orhergrandkids.SheoncefoughtsomeoneinamovietheateronChristmasDaywhentheytoldmyniecestoquietdown.”Alaughfallsoutofhismouth.“Gotusallkickedout,butstill.Thatwasagoodday.”
Istraighteninmyseat.Thatwaswaymorethanhisusualone-wordgruntofananswer.“Doyouspendalotoftimewithher?”
“SincemovingtoRaleighafewyearsago,Ionlyseethemfiveorsixtimesayear.Whentheyneedme,orifourhouseneedswork.IgettherewhenIhaveto.”
ThepiecesofmyheartrearrangethemselvesintoapatternI’mnotsureIrecognize.“Luke…”
“Hm?”
“Youhateplanesandflyacrossthecountryeverytwomonths,ormore?”
Themusclesofhisneckworkasheswallows.“Nobigdeal.It’swhatyoudoforfamily.”Hestealsalookatme.“Makescertainpartsofmylifeharder,though.”
“Whichparts?”
“Idon’thavealotoftimefor…uh,workingout.”
Everytonedinchofhimoffersasilentrebuttal.“Oh?”
“Yeah.”Heflickstheblinkeronandoffbutdoesn’tchangelanes.“Ormuchofapersonallife.”
Myheartpoundstoofastasmybrainlatchesontothoselasttwowords.“Personallife?”
Hishanddriftstothegearshifter,andheshootsmeasearchinglook.“Yeah.Idon’talwaysgettodowhatIwant.”
IfIpoketoohard,breathetoohard,hemightretreatbackintohisemotionalshell.Ibitebackthepowerfulurgetoaskforeverydetailaboutthispersonallife.
SoInod,beggingforhimtokeeptalkingwithmyeyes.
It’snonsensicaltowanttoknowtheinnerworkingsofhislife.Butoh,doIever.
Heturnshisattentionbacktotheroad.“Anyway,Iworktoaffordwhateveryoneneeds.Sixtyorsohoursaweek,usually.Myboss,Rogelio,entrustsmewithalotofstufftohelppreparemetorunmyownconsultingfirmsomeday.WhenI’mnotworking,I’minCalifornia,orhangingwithGroot,theferalneighborhoodcatI’vebeenslowlybribingtobecomeminewithtoys.Glamorouslife.”
“Grootthecat.”Unreasonablycute.“Areyourbriberyattemptsworking?”
“Slowly.Helikeshisnewcatgym.AndsinceIbuilthimaslottedramp,henowspendsalotoftimeonmyporch.”
“I’dsaythatmakesyouaproudcatparent.”Iturnoverthephraseinmyhead.“Whataboutyourdad?”
Hisvoicetakesonaserratededge.“He’satechnicality.LeftusallwhenIwasseven.Hehadahardtimewiththerealitiesofourfamily.”
“Somethingtellsmeyou’rebeingverygenerousinthesedescriptions.”
“Hemarriedhiscoworkerandboughtherahouseacrossthecountry.Neverheardfromhimagain.Rogeliowasfriendswithmydad.Theywenttocollegetogether.Wheneverythingwenttoshit,Rogeliostuckaroundeventhoughhedidn’thaveto.Itwould’vebeeneasierforhimnotto.Buthecuttieswithmyfatherandbecamesortofasurrogatefatherformeandmysister.Healsobailedmymomoutofjailtwice.”Amuscleinhisjawjumps.“Idon’tusuallytalkaboutthisstuff.”
Iswallowalargegulpoffollow-upquestions.I’msogladhe’sopeningupatallI’mafraidtoomuchwillspookhim.Ifhedoesn’ttalkaboutthisstuffwithpeople,Idesperatelywanttogetthisconversationright.Bewhatheneeds.
“You’vementionedyourmom.”Hetiltstowardme,pupilssosmallagainstthesunlightthatthestriationsofhisirisescometoplay.“Whataboutyourdad?”
“He’scomplicated.Lovesthecrapoutofme,andIhim,eventhoughhavingarelationshipwithhimcomesatgreatpersonalcosttomeandmyfraughthomeostasiswithMom.Shecan’tstandtheman.Dad’sgreatfault,asIseeit,wasnotgivingherthelifeshedreamedofandthengrantingheradivorce.”
“Soyoutwoareclose,butyourmomdoesn’tapprove?”
“Wehadweeklyphonecallsmywholelife,andwewroteletters.Dad’salwaysbeenapie-in-the-skydreamer,completelydisinterestedinkeepingupwithanyJoneses—AKAMom’spolaropposite.Theydonotgetalong.Sheburstsintoflamesatthesoundofhisname.It’scontentious.”
“Ouch.Willhebeatthewedding?”
Crap
TheonerungI’veclimbedontheladderbacktoadecentmoodbreaksbeneathmyfoot.IforgotIneedtocallhimandgethisasstothewedding,probablybecauseI’vebeenbusytryingtogetmyownassthere.AnotherthingIsaidI’ddoforIsabelle.Ican’tmessthatoneup.
Thoughaftermylastphonecall,I’mstartingtowonderifI’mcapableofdoinganythingwithoutmessingup.
ThecoldmemoriesofthatconversationwithMomsnuffoutthewarmthinthecar.IwishIcouldcrawlbackintothebubbleofdeepconversationwithLuke—apowerfulanddestructivedesireinitsownright.Inaday’stime,hewon’tbetheretoturnto.
God,thatstingsmorethanitshould.Anditmakesmefeelevenmorefoolishforwantingtoturntohimatall.It’slikeclingingtosmoke.
He’sbeingnice.I’mgettingattached
Ineedtogetbacktomyreality.
IdialDad’snumberandlistentoalongseriesofringsonspeakerphone.Hisvoicemailpicksup.Inlieuofanormaloutgoingmessage,“HoundDog”blares.
Lukeraisesabrowmyway.
“Dad,it’sCass.”Thiswillbeatrickyconversation.Idon’twanttostartitwithhisansweringmachine.“I’llcallback.”
“Should’vecalledhimsooner,”ImurmurundermybreathasIslumpbackintomyseat.
Severalquietminutespass.
“We’llgettoFortCollinsjustunderthewire,aroundfourthirty.Thebankbranchclosesatfive.”Hepausesforaminute,likehe’swaitingforsomething.“Yousureyou’reokay?”
It’dfeelreallygoodtotalkaboutmymom.Talkingisusuallymydefault.
Butintheinterestofnotspoon-feedinghimhowmuchofadisappointmentIam,Ichoosesilenceforachange.ChapterTwenty-One
Luke
SomethingisverywrongwithCassidy.
Shesaysnothingallthewaytothebank,andwhenIreturnwithmytemporarydebitcard,shecanbarelymusterathumbs-up.
ThisisnotthebubblychatterboxI’vebeentravelingwith,anditmakesmeuneasyashell.
Idropbackintothedriver’sseat,anxietytensingmymuscles.Mountainsloominthedistance,offeringmeajaggedskylinetostareatasIconsidermyoptions.
Givenwhatevershe’sgoingthroughisnoneofmybusiness,Ishouldignoreitandleavehertostewinpeace.It’swhatI’dwant.
Butshe’snotme.Shethrivesonhumancontact.Ignoringthisdoesn’tfeelright.
Iswipethephonefromherlap.“Givemeaquicksecondtochecksomethingandwe’llbeoff.”
IperformaquicksearchanddeletethehistoryafterfindingwhatI’mlookingfor,becauseifshediscoverswhatI’mplanning,she’llinsistit’sawasteoftime.
Itprobablyis.ButI’mnotsurewhatelsetodo.
WhenwepulluptotheAntiqueWashingMachineMuseum,it’sabundantlyclearthatshepaidzeroattentiontoourruralsurroundingsasweapproached.Isnuckusoffthehighwayinplainsight.
“Luke,”shesayswarily,leaningforwardinherchair.“Whatisthis?”
“Whatdoesitlooklike?”IparkthecarinagravellotandthrowPriceisRightarmsatthetiny,weatheredbuilding.Thewood-paneledsidinggivesthemuseumalogcabinlook,asdoesthewraparoundporch.Tworockingchairsstandguardoverthefrontdoor.It’sallrichwoodandrustic,butbehinditliesagianteyesoreofawarehouse.“TheLeeMaxwellWashingMachineMuseum.”
Shelooksoutherwindowandbackatme.“Whyarewehere?”
“Forfun.”
“Again,why?”
“It’sonmybingocard.”Ilowertomeethergaze.She’snotlaughingatthejoke.“Itwasontheway.Ithoughtit’dcheeryouup.I’mawashingmachinecollector.Whichofthesereasonsappealstoyou?”
Hergazecloudsoverintosomethingstormy.
Mypulsetrips.“Ifyou’reworriedaboutthetimethiswastes,itwasn’tevenoutoftheway.AndIalreadyplantodriveuntilmyeyesarecrossedtonight—”
Sheshovesopenthedoorandstormsoutoftheconvertible,slammingitbehindher.Thenoiserattlesagroupofbirdswhotakeoffinaflurry.
Ilaunchoutofmyside,shutmydoor,andfollowafterher.“What?What’dIsay?”
Shestompsawayfoursteps,kickingupgravel.Whenshewheelsaround,herfingerispointedatme.“Stopit.”
“Stopwhat?”
“Stopmessingwithmyhead.Stopdoingnicethingsforme.Stoplettingmesleeponyourlap,thenactinglikeit’snobigdeal.Stopsolvingmyproblemsandlookingatmelikeyoucare.Iknowyou’rejustbeingnice,butit’smessingwithmyhead.”
Igapeather,unsurehowtorespond.Herwordsarelikeatableclothrippedoff,sendingglassesandplatesflyingeverywhere.
Panicflashesinhereyes.“Ohgod,justforgetit.Ishould’vekeptmymouthshut.ThiswasanicegesturebecauseIwassulking.Butweshouldjustdrive.Webothhavealifetogetbackto.”
She’sexactlyright,anddammitifitdoesn’tstinglikehellanyway.Itakeabeat,abreath,tryingtoslowmyragingheart.
“You’ddothisforanyone,right?”Herarmsdroptoherside,andherchestrisesandfallsfast.“Luke?Pleasesaysomething.”
Thiswomanisimpossible
Sheshoutsatmeonesecondanddemolishesmewiththesoftest,mosthopefullookinhereyesthenext.
Irunmyhanddownmyface,scramblingtomakesenseofher.“Youare…”
“I’mwhat?”Shetiltsherchin,anairofdefianceinhereyes.“Finishthesentence.I’m…‘somethingelse?’”
“Confusing.”
“I’mconfusing?Lookinamirror,Luke!”
Thelateafternoonairisinfusedwithwoodsmokeandsap,andit’stoocoldforustostandoutherefighting.Buttheideaofgettingbackinthecarandpretendingeverythingisfineisinsufferable.
Istepcloser,desperatetomakeherunderstandwhatI,myself,don’tfullyunderstand.“I’mnotmessingwithyou,Cass.Iwantedyoutofeelbetter.That’swhywe’rehere.”
“Aweirdmuseumisexactlythekindofthingthatwouldmakemefeelbetter,”shesaysquietly.“Youwereright.”
Ithrowupmyarms.“Thenwhat’stheproblem?”
Shemovescloser.
It’stheWildgoddamnWest.Onestepatatime.
“It’s…”Herfaceflushes,andsheblinksskyward.“Iamsoconfusedaboutyourintentions.Yourfeelings.Thewayyoutouchedmelastnight—Iknowitwasinthenameofmedicine,butitfeltlike…”Sherunsafingeracrossthehollowbeneathherbottomlip,herskinandmouthturningadeeppink.“IlikeditalotmorethanIshould’ve.”
Desireseizesmybodyhotandheavy,andIhavetoreplayherwordsthreetimesinmyheadtobesureIheardhercorrectly.Thiswomanwhonowoccupiesmyeverywakingthought,whoIachetotouchandhold,likedmyhandsonher.Alot
Hergazeslidesbacktomine.
Withtheferocityofaburstingdam,thepartofmeIkeeplockedaway—theundilutedwantandneedIdon’tletmyselfentertain—breaksfree.
Iclosethedistancebetweenus,andmyhandmovestoherlikethere’snootheroptionbuttotouchher.Itwistherhairaroundmyfistandliftitoffherneck.Myotherhandbrushesupherskin,behindherear,overhercheek,skirtinghermouth,generatingathousandvoltsofelectricitythatthreatentoripthroughmyrestraint.“Itfeltlikereallytouchingyou.WorsewhenIhadtostop.”
“Luke…”Sheleansintothebrushofmyfingers,mynameawhisperonhertongue.
Myhandslidesbehindherneck,mycontrolallbutgone.
Getbackinthecar.
Thisridiculousneedtogooutofmywaytohelpher,tolearnher,totouchherismoredangerousthananycrackedplane,oldtrain,orsmashedautomobile.It’stheultimatebetrayaltomycarefullyconstructedplans.
Herhandslandonmystomach,andhergazefollowsherfingersastheyslidetowardmycollar.It’sslow,thesensationpainfullylight.
Igripherwaist,reelingherinwithajerk,anguishingoverthebrushofherbodyagainstmineasshepushesupontiptoes.
Ourmouthsteasewithouttouching,herlipstoyingwithmineasifinadare.
Ihesitateforthedurationofthreeragingbreathsbeforethelastthreadofmyresistancesnaps.Islantmymouthoverhers,catchinghergaspinmymouth
Shekisseslikeshe’sexploringanewplace,sofuckingsweetandslowI’mgrippedwiththesimultaneousneedstoprotectwhat’ssoftandshowherhard.
Shepullsbackandsearchesmyeyesjustlongenoughtofindwhatevershe’slookingforbeforecrashinghermouthbackintomine.Herpalmsgrazethesideofmyfaceandslidebehindmyneck,pullingmeinandurgingthekissdeeper.Withthefirstquestioningflickofhertongue,Igroanandplungemyfingersintohersilkyhair,coaxinghermouthopenuntilherhesitationdissolves.Shenipsmybottomlip,andIstopmyselfshyofdevouringhers.Sheanswerswithanachingsoundthatsetsmeonfire
Iswipeathumbinwardacrosshercheek,landingonthelipsI’vebeenbeggingmyselfnottofantasizeaboutsincetheminuteImether,interruptingourkisssowecancatchourbreath.
Ourmouthsbarelyseparate,sharinghotairasIteaseherlipwiththepadofmyfinger.Hereyesstayshutasherraspybreathscomefasteratmytouch.Thatlastsallofafewsecondsbeforemyhandfallsawayandmymouthisonhersagain.Breathingcanwait.
Isnakeanarmaroundherwaistandliftherofftheground,walkinguntilherbackhitsthesideofthecar.Everycaressofhertongueshootsstraightthroughmeuntilmycoherentthoughtsfallaway.Sheliftsakneetomywaist,andIdrivemyweightagainsther,pinningherinplace.Ourkissgrowssloppy,firelickingeverywhereourbodiestouch.
Ifwetakethisanyfurther,I’llloseallrationalityandtakeherrighthereagainsttheshinyredMustang.
ButIdon’twanttothink.AllIfuckingdoisthink.
Shepresseswordsintomymouthbetweenfrantickisses.“Weshould—”
Herquietwordsareinterruptedbythesoundoftiresspinninggravel.Atruckwhipsintotheparkinglotfromaroundthesideofthemuseum.
Ijumpbackward.
Cassidysteadiesherself,herhandsbracinghercheeks.
TheslategrayDodgeparksalmostontopofus.It’snotreallyaspotatall.Thedriverjustcomestoastopdiagonally,nearlyblockingthestairs.
Thetinteddriver’ssidewindowslidesdown,revealinganolderman.Hedropsalong,sun-weatheredarmoutofthewindow.“Hithere.”
“Hi!”Cassidyblurts.“Doyouworkhere?”
“Thewife’sbeentryingtogetmetostop,butit’sabitofahabit.I’mLeeMaxwell,ownerandoperatorofthemuseum.Youkidshaveatourscheduled?”
“No,sir.Didn’trealizeitwasappointmentonly.We’llbeonourway.”
“Nonsense.”Hethrowsopenhisdoorandlumberstotheground.Hepressestheheelofhispalmintothecenterofhisbroadbackashewalkspast.“Weusuallyonlydoprivatetoursafterfourp.m.,butI’dbegladtoshowyouaroundatthepublicentryrate.”
“Well,wecould—”
“—shouldprobablygetgoing—”
CassandIexchangeaheatedlook.Shedeliversanentiremonologuewiththosebabyblues.Certainlysomethinginthereaboutnotbeingrudeandit’sweirdifwesayno.
Ithoughtthismuseumwouldbeaquickstopwherewewalkedthroughonourown,justenoughtocheerupCass.Ididn’tbankontheowner-operatorbreathingdownournecks.
Cass’snowveryswollenlipsarepressedtogetherassheawaitsmyanswer.
Maybeatourofthisplace,whereweareverymuchsupervised,isjustthethingIneedtogetmybodyundercontrolbeforewegetbackinthattinycar.
…
Mythoughtsarejustasmuddledwhenweexitthemuseumaswhenwewalkedinside.PerhapsithadsomethingtodowiththewayCasskeptbrushingagainstmeaswemaneuveredthroughtightlycrampedaislesbetweenrowsofmachinery,gigglingatLee’sterriblejokesandactinglikeitwasthemostexcitingtourshe’devertaken.
Leeshowcasedthegoodsintheexpansive,airymuseum.IknowmoreabouttheevolutionofpumpsthanIcaretoforget.Butnothing—notevenawashingmachinewithawoodtreadmillattached,oncepoweredbyarunninggoat—couldstopmefromthinkingaboutthatkiss.
Everyinchofmeisstilltightlywound
Itmust’vedroppedfivedegreesinthethirtyminuteswewereinside.Casshugsherselftightlyaswecrosstheparkinglot.
Assoonaswe’retuckedawayinthecar,sheexhaleslikeshe’sbeenholdingitinforacentury.“Wow.Fifteenhundredwashingmachines.”
“Andmoreinthewarehouse.”
Shebucklesherseatbelt.Theclickisstrangelyloud.“Thanksforpaying.”
“We’restillnoteven.”
Wefallquiet.
Shepicksatthehemofhershirt.“What’stheplanfortonight?”
Nowwouldbethetimetotellherkissingcan’thappenagain.Thatit’sme,nother.
Itshouldbesimple.Fourwords:Ican’tdothis.
Butfuck,thatkisswasmorethanIevercould’veimagined.Everysquareinchofmybodysurgedtolifewithherhandsonme.Thesmoothslideofherlipsandtonguescorchedme.
Butmorethanallofthat?Myheartbeatsjustasfastinthismoment,whenshethrowsherfeetuponthedashandflashesmeatentativesmile,asitdidwhenIkissedher.
Dreadlodgesinmystomach.Evenonenightwithherwouldbetoomuch.I’mnotsureeitherofuscouldcomebackfromitunscathed.
IknowIwouldn’t.
Herhandswringtogetherinherlap.
She’snervous.
SoamI.
Sheturnsherheadandmeetsmyeye,andtheborrowedeasefallsawayuntilwe’restaringateachother.ThatIwouldgladlylookatheralldayandnight,anditwouldstillnotfeellikelongenough,isexactlywhyweneedtokeepmoving.
“Iwon’tstopdrivinguntilIpassoutatthewheel,”Isayquickly,forcingmyattentionbacktotheroad.“Iknowyou’reeagertogethome.”
“Right.”Shenodsandcastshergazeoutthewindow.“Gotit.”
God,Inevershould’vekissedthiswoman.NowI’llhavetodriveathousandmilesknowinghowshetastes.ChapterTwenty-Two
Cassidy
InspiredbytherusticColoradolandscape,Icurluponthefrontseatandplaypossumthesecondweleavethemuseum.IneedtimetorecoverthethoughtsLuke’stongueknockedoutofmyhead.
Ikissedhim.Orhekissedme.Both.Ifeltthehardpressofhisbodyashepinnedmeagainstthecar,andhewasmorethaneager.
Nowwhat?WhatamIsupposedtodoorsay?I’minthebasinofoneofthoseoldwashingmachines,allmythoughtsandemotionsswirling.
NormallyI’dphoneafriend,butIcan’tverywellwhipoutthecellanddialupBerkeleytogetheradvicewhileLukeissittingnexttome,totallyunruffled.
Heclearlyisn’tasaffectedasIam.Ifhewaslookingforahookup,hewouldn’thavesodelicatelystated,“Iwon’tstopdrivingunlessIpassoutatthewheel,”whenIaskedhimwhattheplanwastonight.Thatwashisopening,andhedidn’ttakeit.
Andifhedoesn’tevenwanttotouchmeagain,hesurelyisn’tinterestedinmore.Definitelynotarelationshippastthistrip.
Ialmostlaughatthethought.Mostlythatit’sevenathoughtthatcrossedmymind,becausewhatthehellwouldaguylikeLukewantwithmelongterm?His401kprobablyhasitsown403b.He’saguywithhealthinsurance,aten-yearplan,andaroutine.Idon’tevenknowwhatI’llbedoingintwoweeks.BerkeleyandIboughtatickettoIrelandfourmonthsago,thencalledbacktosayitwasidentitytheftbecausewerealizedhowfinanciallyirresponsibleitwouldbetogotoIrelandwhenstudentloansexist.
Iworkmultiplejobsbecausethethoughtofadeskjobmakesmepanic—butastringofjobsdoesnotacareermake.I’mcomingtotermswithwhatthatmeansformylife,butitdoesn’tmeanheeverwould.Lukeissuccessfulanddriven.
I’mnothistype.
Thisisnotabigdeal.Sowekissed.Itwasjustonetime.That’sallitneedstobe.
Andyetthethoughtoftouchinghimagain,takingitfurther,sendsaburstofheatthroughmybody.It’snotlikeIcanun-feelhisdemandingmouthonmine,un-hearthedeepsoundhemadewhenIbithislip.
Mysentimentalheartshuddersinmychest.I’veneverbeengoodatjustkissing.
He’ssomanythingsIcouldreallyfallforifIletmyself.Generous,dependable,observant.Good.Hereeksofgoodness,perhapstoafault.
Nottomentionhe’sdevastatingonmypoor,unassumingeyeballs.Theydidn’taskfordirty-blondAdonis.Theyweren’treadyforLukeinjeansandafittedwhiteT-shirt.Theywereunpreparedfortherawsexualityofeyecontactashestaredmedownwhilestrokingmybottomlip.
Itakeaslow,steadyingbreath.Itcalmsmybody0percent.
WhatLukeandIdidbacktherewasalreadymorethanakisstome.Ifwediditagain,letalonetookitfurther,evenonce,andhegotbacktoCaliforniaanddiscardedmelikearoadtripsouvenir…
Ishakeoffthethought.Notworththepain.
Berkeley’sbeentryingtoconvertmetoano-strings-attachedgirlsincemybreakupwithAdamleftmealmostnon-verbalforweeks.Iwaswaymoreintohimthanhewasme,asprovenbythefactthathewasdatingotherpeopletheentiretimeIthoughtwewereexclusive.Andconsideringhewasmarriedwithinayearafterourbreakup,it’sprettyclearthatIwastheproblem.Theroadblocktohishappilyeverafter.Notgoodenoughforamonogamouscommitment.
Unfortunatelyformythirstylibido,Berkeleyhasbeenunsuccessfulinthisno-strings-attachedendeavor.
Andit’snotlikeIhaveatonofexperiencetrying,either.Collegewasmoreofmecaringmoreaboutmenthantheydidaboutme.Highschooldatingwasadifferentkindofdisaster.
LifewouldbeeasierifIcouldbangpeopleoutofmysystemandmoveon.
ButIcan’t.Andmenneverwantmore.
ThefasterwegettoCalifornia,thesoonertheendcomesformeandLuke.Ineedtosetboundarieswithmyself.Wrapmybodyandmyheartindonotcrosstape.
Inthemeantime,I’llplayitcool.Weabsolutelydon’tneedtotalkaboutthekiss.
…
SomewhereoutsideofDenver,afterthesunhassetandI’vegivenuponfakesleeping,Icrack.“Pennyforyourthoughts?”
Hemaintainshisgrandpagriponthesteeringwheel.Utterlyunfazed.“Iwasthinkingaboutbarbeque.Sawasignforaplaceoffthenextexit.Weshouldprobablygetahotmealbeforeit’stoolate.”
“Verypractical.Andthekiss?”
Thecarlurches,likehisfootfelloffthebrake.
Somuchforplayingitcool.
“Nevermind.”Itapthedashboardthermometer.“Fortyfreakingdegrees.”Irescuethesweatshirtfromthebackseatandtugiton.
Andtakemysweettimeresurfacing.
“Cass…”
Histonehasallthemakingsofletherdowneasy.
Whichismorethanfine.Ihadalreadydecidedthiswasnotgoingtohappen.Thesinkingdisappointmentinmybodyisjusthungerindisguise.“We’lleat,andthenwe’lltalk.Youlikebrisket?”
Hesighs.“Yes,actually.Maybewecouldshare?Mostsmokehousesusuallysellbythepound.”
“Oh.Idon’tlikebrisket.”
“Youaskedaboutbrisket,specifically.”
“BecauseIhateit.”
Ishould’vestayedfake-asleepandsparedusboththismisery.
Heslowstotherequiredtwenty-fivemilesperhourofftheexitasmyskincrawls.
HepullsintoanunpavedparkinglotinfrontofaplacecalledBirdie’sBarbeque,claimsaspotinthebackrow,andthrowsthecarinpark.
Hereweare.
Isilentlyvowtomakethisdinnerasfastandpainlessaspossible.Inandout,andthenmoresleeping.Hopefullytherealkind.
AsImoveforthecardoor,hishandclosesaroundmine.Thecontactzipsthroughme.Iglanceupfromhishold,andwelockeyes.
“Igivemymotherandsistertwograndamonthforbills,whichIearnataworkplacewhereIspendalmostallmywakinghours—employedbyamanIrefusetoletdownorquiton.”
Hiswordsfalloutlikeaconfession,gainingsteam.Irelaxintomyseat.
“Sometimesmymothergoesonbenders,goesmissing,andwindsupinahospitalorfourtownsover,stranded.Shedoesn’twanttobefound.Orcontrolled.Butdiabeticsdon’tgettojustdrinkthemselvesintoastuporwithoutseriousramifications.
“Andontopofthat,andherCOPD,whichisgettingworseduetohercontinuedsmoking,she’sbipolarandrefusestotakemedicationforit.Whichmeanswe—me,mysister,andherkids—neverknowwhichMarciewe’regoingtogetonagivenday.”
“Oh,Luke.”Itwistmywristtograbhishandandsqueezeittight.“That’ssohard.”
“Longstoryshort,Idon’tdorelationships,Cassidy.It’snotareflectionofmyfeelings.It’sthatIdon’tstartthingsIcan’tseethroughorgivemyfullattentionto.Mylastandonlyrealseriousrelationshipendedforthisexactreason.Withthewaymylifeis,Icouldn’tgiveherwhatshewanted.Myfamilywasaconstantissue.Andtheyhavetocomefirstbecausetheydon’thaveanyoneelse.”
Hiswordscarveaholeinmychest.AllthistimeridingwithhimandIhadnoideatheweighthewascarrying.
SomuchofLuke’sbehaviormakessensenow.
Everysingleimpressivethingaboutthisman—hiscareerfocus,hisresponsibletendencies,hiscaringnature—werebornofstruggleandstrife.They’reessentialtosurvivalforhimandhisfamily.
Myheartbreakscleaninhalf.Iwanttohandhimthepiecethat’sfilledwithcareandrespectandadmirationandtucktheotherhalfawaywherehecan’tseeitsomyfeelingsdon’tweighonhim.
“Igetit,”Iwhisper.“Imean—notfully,becauseIcan’tpretendtounderstandthepressureofyourresponsibilities.Butdon’taddmetothelistofthingsyouworryabout.Please.Idon’tthinkIcouldstandtomakethisdrivewithyouifIknewyouwereworryingaboutme,too.I’mnotaskinganythingfromyou.”
Hishandfindsmyshoulder.First,it’sagentlesqueeze,likewe’reoldpals.Buthelingers,hispalmslidingtothecrookofmyneck,warmagainstmyskin.
Andthenit’smovingupanddown,asoothingcircuitthatmakesmewanttoleanintohistouch.We’resoclosewithjustthecenterconsolebetweenusI’mafraidhe’llglimpsemyeverythoughtlaidbareinmyeyes.
WhenI’msurehe’llpullaway,hefloatslower,findingmycollarbone.Tracingitwithhisthumb.Lightingathousandtinyfiresundermyskin.
“Youwouldn’thavetoask,”hemurmurs.“Ifthingsweredifferentandwedidthis?You’dneverhavetoaskmeforathing.”
Hisfingersmoveloweroverthefabricofmyshirt.Myinhaleisshaky.Itrytocatchhiseye,buthisattentionisgluedtohishandashegrazesthetopofmycleavage.Hiseyesdarkenashewatcheshimselftouchme.
Mybreathhitches.
Hisforeheadfallsagainstmine.Onlythenarrowcenterconsoleseparatesus.Hishotbreathfansmyfaceasheinchescloser.
Nothingabouthishandgrippingthebackofmyneckandguidingmeclosersuggestsit’sbetterifwedon’tgothere.Confusionanddesiregotowarinmybody.It’snotfairforhimtotouchmethisway,tomakemewanthimifthisisn’twhathewantsorneeds.ButIcan’tevenbringmyselftobeangrybecausehowcouldIfaultsomeoneforputtingtheirfamilyfirst?
It’sthenicest,mostconfusingrejectionIcouldimagine.Thedistantcousinofit’snotyou,it’sme.It’snotyou,it’sthemanI’mtryingtobeforthem.
Itmakesmewanttocomforthim.Itmakesmewanttohelpwhenheclearlywantsnoneofthat.
I’mscaredI’llbetheonewhoneedscomfortbytheendofthistripifIletmyselffallanyfurther.
Justbecausewecan’tdoesn’tmeanIdon’twantto.
“Yousaid…”Iwhisper.
Hetiltsmyhead.Hislipsbrushmine.Notenoughtocountasakiss.Justenoughtomakemeacheinaplacehe’llnevertouchme.“IknowwhatIsaid.”
“Thenlet’snot,okay?”Iframehisfacewithmyhandsandpullback.“Let’sgetyouhome.”ChapterTwenty-Three
Luke
Hickorysmokehangsthickintheairasathree-manbandplaysafolksycoverofafamouscountrysonginthecorner.
Iconsumethelastshredsofbrisketonmyplate.Picnictablesforcethebillionotherpeoplealsoeatingheretonighttocramintofamily-styleseating.Thosewhoaren’tsittingareonthesmalldancefloor,cuttingitup.
Thesoonerwegetoutofherethebetter.I’vegotsomeseriousmilestocovertonightifwe’reevergoingtoputanendtothistrip.
Afterdisappearingforovertenminutes,CassidyreturnsfromthebuffetwithtwobowlsofbananapuddingandonelargeStyrofoamcup.
“Theownermakeshisownpeachmoonshine.”Shedropsintothesliverofopenrealestatenexttome.Herthighbuttsupagainstmine.
Mylegistooawareofthecontact.“Thatexplainsyourlongabsence.Youmadeanotherfriend.”
“HisnameisWayne.Hecallshismoonshineside-hustleWayneorShine.Isn’tthatthemostincrediblenameyou’veeverheard?”
“Brilliant.Andyoupaidforthis?”Ipickuphercupandinhale.“Fuck,that’sstrong.”
“Itwasfreeifyoucanbelieveit.IthinkWaynemayhavebeentryingtoadoptme.Hekeptofferingmejugsofthestuff.”
“Adoptyou.Yeah,I’msurethat’swhatitwas.”Irubmyeyes.Whatmustitbeliketobesoblissfullyunawareoftheeffectyouhaveonotherpeople?
“Icansenseyou’rereadytogo.Idon’tintendtodrinkanentiretwelve-ouncecupofmoonshine.Don’tworry.We’llleaveassoonaswefinishdessert.”
Iinhalemybananapudding.
Naturally,shedragsherspoondownhertongue,eatingitinthemostseductivefuckingwayimaginable.
Iwishshehadn’ttakenwhatItoldherinthecarsowell.It’snotthatIexpectedhertoarguethepoint—morethatIthoughtitwouldfeelfinal.Aclosingstatementonthetopicofus.
There’snothingfinalaboutthewaythatconversationended.
Ourphonebuzzesinmypocket.Awelcomedistraction.
Hey,Cass—what’sWill’snumber?IwanttomakesureIcangetintouchwithsomeoneifsomethinghappenstoyourburnerphone.
“Interesting.”
Casseyesthephone.“What?”
“BerkeleywantsWill’snumber.”
Shechokesonabiteofpuddingandwashesitdownwithaswigofmoonshine.“Impossible.Berkeleywouldnever.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Shewasn’taskinglikethat.It’sforsafetyincasewefalloffthegrid.”
“Oh.Well,giveittoher.”
Ifireoffthetextandshootheraside-eye.“Whyisitsoridiculousthatshe’dwanthisnumber?Willisagood-lookingguy.Funny.Charismatic.Athletic.”
“Damn,justmytype.Ishesingle?”Shetakesanothersip,eyesflashingdangerovertherimofhercup.
Bloodthundersinmyveins.Thequestionmakesmewanttoripthetableinhalf.“Sureis.Ashameyou’realreadybringingBerkeleytothewedding.”
“MaybeIgetaplus-two.”Shetapsherspoonontheedgeofthebowl.“Berkeleydoesn’tdate.Shehadamessydivorce.Activelyhatesmostmenandtheconceptoflove.It’llprobablypass.Sherecentlybangedthesameguytwice.Growth.”
“Shehatesloveandyou’rebringinghertoawedding?”
“Yup.She’scomingforme.”Anothersip.“NotthatIcouldn’tgetadateifIwantedone.”
Idownahugebiteofdessert.“Youdatealot?”
“Definealot.”
Sittingside-by-sidegivesmethepermissionIneednottolookather.AndyetIcan’tstop.Inowknowexactlyhowtheshadowsplayonherfaceinthelowlightofthisplace.“Whenwasyourlastrelationship,forhowlong,etcetera?”
“Oneseriousrelationship.Adam.WedatedforayearafterImovedtoAsheville.Endedaboutaswellasanyotherrelationshipthatends.Beforehim,mycollegeboyfriendandIdatedforfouryears.”
Iscratchmychin.“Interesting.”
“Excuseyou.Twoisarespectablenumber.What,didyourackupatonofrelationshipsbeforeyousworethemoff?”
“I’vehadone.Shefuckedmycoworkerinourbedandthenblamedmeforit.SaidnowomanwouldeverlovemesolongasIwasbankrollingandenablingmyfamily.Beforeher—well.Notmuchtoreport.”
Hermouthhangsopen.
Irunmythumbdownagrooveinthewoodentable.“Soyeah,Iwasn’tjudging.”
ShetakesanothergulpofWayne’sconcoctionandsetsitonthetablewithforce.“MyexwasseeingotherwomenthewholetimeIthoughtwewereexclusive.Mycollegeboyfriendnevertoldmehelovedmeinfouryears.”
Assholes.Thebothofthem.Itisunfathomablethatanyonecouldhavefullaccesstothiswomanandwantanythingelse.
“Andinhighschool,Icouldn’tdate.”
Ifrown.“Likeyouweren’tallowed?”
Swirlinghercup,shesighs.“Iwould’vebeenallowed.It’sjusthardtodatewhenyoursisterisLadyGod’sgifttohumanity.Ifyouweretoseeher,you’dunderstand.Inhighschool,shewascontinuallyapproachedbycastingagentsfortelevision—that’showgoodlookingsheis.Sure,it’sL.A.,sotheybasicallyslinkaroundhighschoolhangoutslikeweirdos,buthowmanypeoplecansaytheywerecourtedbyagents?”
“Yoursisterbeingheadhuntedbyweirdosmeansyoucouldn’tdate?”
Sheleansintomeenoughthatthehairsonmyarmstakenotice.“Scenario:youbringagirlhometothehouseyouhypotheticallysharewithWill,inallhishunky,funny,charismaticglory—”
“You’reofficiallynevermeetingWillinperson.”
“—andshespendsthewholenighttalkingtohim,fawningoverhim,maybeevensneaksintohisroom.Doesn’tfeelgreat,right?Multiplythatby,oh,Idon’tknow,athousand.ThatwaswhatitwasliketryingtodatewithIsabelleBlissasyoursister.”
“Ihavetroublebelievingthat.”
“Believeit,okay?IthappenedsomanytimesIgaveup.It’shappenedmyentirelife,andnotjustindating.Ineveryarena,shewins.Andyouknowwhat?Shedeservesto.Isabelleissmartandtalented.She’sagoddamndelight.”
Shesucksinabreathandpressesherlipsshut.
Colorcreepsacrosshercheeksasshetriestostand.“Okay,that’squiteenoughsharing—”
“Wait.”Istopherwithahandonherknee.
Herbodyfallsbackintotheseat.“What?”
“You’reagoddamndelight,Cassidy.”
Sheimmediatelyshakesherheadandtriestolookaway.Triestodismissitbeforeit’sevenoutofmymouth.Iguideherbackwithathumbandforefingertoherchin.“Ifyou’dlookedmywayinhighschool,Isureasfuckwould’vebeenlookingback.Anyguywhohadachancewithyouandthenwaltzedovertoyoursister’sroomorwhateverthefucktheydidmadeamassivemistake.Iguaranteetheyknowthatnow.Anyonewhodoesn’tseehowincredibleyouaredoesn’tdeserveyourkindness.Believeme,it’stheirloss.AndI’mnotjusttalkingaboutbackthen.Gotit?”
Surprise,andthensomethinginfinitelymoretender,playsoutinhereyes,andthatpunchesmehardbetweentheribs.
Thethree-manbandstrikesaharmonyasCassidyleansin.
It’safasttapofherlips,abarelytherekiss.
Eventhatfeatherlighttouchistoomuchformyfragileresistance.
Shepullsback,agape.“Ididn’tthinkitthrough,itwas—”
IsqueezethekneeI’mstillholdingasIlungeforhermouth.Herlipspartforme,softandeager.Shetasteslikepeachmoonshineandbanana.Puresweetness.I’mfuckedforbananas—I’llneverbeabletoeatanotheroneagainwithoutcravingtheslideofhertongue.
Thehandnotgrippingherkneemovesbehindherhead,pullingherinharder.Claimingher.KeepingherwhileIcan.Myfingersthreadherhairasherhandcupsthesideofmyneck.
Thisiswhenthekissshouldend.
Mypalmskatesupherthigh.Iwanttohaulherinmylapandwrapmyarmsaroundherwaist.Fuck,Iwanttoholdher.Iwanttopushthelimitsofpublicdecency.
Ourmouthsbreakapart,andherfingersbrushmycheek.
“Thankyou,”shewhispers.“Foreverythingyousaid.”
Myheartriots.
Thesongcomestoanend,andshepullsback.“Thatwasathank-youkiss.”
Athank-youkiss.
I’mstilltryingtoturnmyselfright-side-upwhenshestacksourtraysandclimbsoutofthetablewithoutanotherword.
…
“I’mscrewed.”
MydeclarationislouderthanIintend,whichwouldbothermeifIgaveevenasinglefuckaboutwhatthetwoa.m.crowdataShellStationinUtahthinksofme.
“Metaphoricallyscrewed?”Willasks.“Wait,areyouandthegirl—”
Myhandtightensaroundthephone.“Cassidy.Ikissedher.”
“And?”
Icheckthegrimywindow,makingsureshe’sstillsafelyasleepinthefrontseatwhereIlefther.“AndIlikeher.”
“Whydoyousoundlikeyou’rebeingheldhostage?Thegirliscute.Ifyoukissedher,Iwouldassumeyouagree.”
Theill-litgasstationsmellslikecedarandtobacco.Ipacethenonperishablefoodaisleafewtimesbeforemovingtowardanendcapdisplayingasmatteringofcampingessentials.Igrabablanketandshoveitundermyarm.“I’mnottryingtostartarelationship.”
“Sodon’t.Youdon’thavetoseriouslydateeverygirlyoukiss.Enjoyeachotheruntilyougethomeandseewhathappens.”
TheghostofCassidy’swhisperedthank-youflitsthroughme,coolingmyskin.Thatthank-youcrackedmychestwideopen.Thepeopleinherpasthavedoneanumberonher.
Prettysuresexfollowedbyaswiftseeyouneveristhelastthingshewantsorneeds.
“That’snotanoption,”Isayevenly
“Okay.Soundslikethat’sit,then.Sayyourgoodbyeswhenyougethomeandonwardtothenextadventure.Hey,IwasthinkingI’drentapontoonwhileyou’rehere,ifwedoPismo…”
Idon’theartherestofhissentence.
AllIcanthinkis,I’mnotreadytosaygoodbye.
Somepartofmeshould’veknowntobracefortherealityofthis,butfoolishlyIthoughtIwasimmunetoeverythinghappeningbetweenus.
I’mnot.
Ididn’tstandachance,trappedintransitwithher.
“Areyoustillthere?”
Ishakemyheadfastandhard.“Yes.Just…fuck,Idon’tknow,man.IthinkI’mlosingit.Thisconversationactuallymadeitworse,somehow.”
“Flatterywillgetyoueverywhere.Okay,advicetime.Here’swhatyoudo.Areyouwritingthisdown?”
Ihookaleftdownanotheraisle.“Scribblinginearnest.”
Adanglingboxofcondomscatchesmyeye.
“Letthiswholethinggo,”Willsaysemphatically.“Simplyexist.”
MyhandliftstowardtheTrojanbox.
Andthendrops.
Ipivotonmyheel.
I’mnotbuyingcondomsaftertwokisses.Presumptuousbehavior.
I’mmorescrewedthanIrealized,panickingatagoddamnShellstationoverasimplecondomspurchase.“‘Simplyexist’isn’tadvice,Will.It’sabumpersticker.”
“Butyourheadwentsomewhere,didn’tit?WhenIsaiddonothing—whatwasyourknee-jerkreaction?Wereyoudisappointed?Listentothatpartofyourself.It’llgiveyoufarbetteradvicethanIdo.”
Thetrickstermakesasolidpoint.Mygutisscreamingatme,draggingCassidy’ssmilingfacetotheforefrontofmybrain.“I’mgoingtogo.Remindmenevertodriveacrossthecountryagain.”
Willsnickers.“Mostpeoplejustplayroad-tripgames.”
“Casslovesgames.”
“Yourgirlhasgoodtaste.”
Yourgirl.
FuckifIdon’tlikethewayitsoundsChapterTwenty-Four
Cassidy
WhenIcometo,ittakesmeafulltensecondstoremembermyownnameanddeducethatwe’recarcamping.
Theclockonthedashreads3:12a.m.
Rollingontomyside,IcomecrashingbackintomybodyatthesightofLuke,gentlysnoring,curledupinthedriver’sseatunderthesamegiantfuzzyblanketalsodrapedoverme.Islidemyseatallthewaybackandreclinefullysoitmatcheshis.
SecondsslipawayasIstealalongerlookhisway.Comfortmeltsonmyskinlikewarmwax.He’scloseenoughtostrokehisface,butIdon’tdarewakehim.
ButthecomfortisshortlivedwhenIremember,oh,everything
Whatintheever-lovingheckhappenedatdinner?Whenwe’djustsettledthetermsofthisnebulousthingbetweenus,whenIwascertainweweregoingtoforgeaheadwithoutanymorecomplications,hespoketheexactwordstosoothemyachysoul.
Ourmouthstrippedandfellandlandedoneachother.
Athank-youkiss.That’swhatItoldhim.That’swhatitwas.
Throughthewindow,morestarsthanI’veeverseendotthesky,thousandsoftinyburstsoflightglowingtogether,renderingthegreatexpanseaninkylilac.Hemust’vestoppedinanticipationofthisandboughttheblanketwhileIwassleeping.Myheartstumblesoveritselfimagininghimatthestore,pickingthisoutwiththeintentiontoshare
Igraspforthephoneinthetrayundertheradio.Accordingtotheweatherapp,we’reinMoab,Utah.Homeofthearches.Lukemust’vedrivenuntilhecouldn’tkeephiseyesopenanymore.
Hestirs.
Oureyeslockandheoffersmeasleep-drunk,“Hi,”ashestretcheshisarmsoverhead.Atinyinfernoblazesthroughmybody.
Myresponseisbarelymorethanawhisper.“Hi.”
Heprocureshisglassesfromsomewherebeneaththeblanketandslidesthemintoplace.“Didyousleepwell?”
“Islepthard.”
Hisgravellyvoiceispureseduction.“Thatmeansyouneededit.”
Mygazeflicksbetweenhiseyesandwandersdowntowheretheblanketistuckedunderhisarm.
“ThisisMoab.”Helightlydragshisbighandacrossthesoftconvertibletop.“Oneofthecampingspots.”
Icurlthesoftblanketinmyfist.“Howlonghaveyoubeenasleep?”
“Notlong.IfiguredI’dsleepafewhours,we’dwakeupforsunrise,seethearcheswhilewe’rehere,andthenkeepgoing.”
“Thisisnice.”Ipullmybottomlipinmymouthandglanceattheconvertibletop.“Weshoulddropthisdownforaminutetoseethesky.”
“It’scold.Areyouokaywiththat?”
“We’vegottheblanket.”ElectricitydancesdownmyarmasIdriftittowardtheroof.“It’dbeashametowastethischance.Togetthefulleffectofthenightsky,Imean.”
Hereplacesthekeyintheengineandstartsthecarjustlongenoughtolowerthetop.
It’slikepoppingthetopoffajaroflightningbugsandwatchingthemscatterintothenight.Withnothingobscuringthesky,it’spuremagic,streakedwithcolor.Welieonourbacksforatleasttwoquietminutes,soakingitin.It’slikenothingI’veeverseen,moremysteriousthanasunsetorsunriseandmorealivethananytwinklingcityscape.
Except.
Mygazekeepswanderingtothemanonmyleft,andeverytimeitdoes,Luke’seyesareonme.
Heartinmythroat,Isnapmyattentionbacktotheskyforthefourthtime.
It’scold.Thebone-chillingkindyouonlyfindatnight.
Ipulltheblankethigher,overbothofus.“Better?”
Herollsonhissidetofaceme.Reflexively,Idothesame.Itfeelslikebeingsuspendedinwater,oureverymovefluidandslow,neverreallystopping.Heunabashedlystaresatmymouthashedriftscloser.MyheartpoundssohardIcan’thearmyselfthink.
Hislipslandonmycheek,asinglebrushofakiss.“Yes.Thankyou.”
“You’re—”
Herunshistongueovermylip.
Sucksitgently,likehe’ssampling.
Mythoughtsstall.
Hismouthslidesovermine.Coaxingmeopen.Myhandmovestohisface,fingertipsseekingskinandheat.Thiskissdoesn’tfeellikeameanstoanend,butadestinationuntoitself.Hismouthflirtswithmineingentlepresses.
Lipsstillparted,hepullsbacktomeetmyeye.Themoltenlookonhisfacereducesmetoash.Idon’tknowhowtofunctionwithhisconcentrationsosquarelyonme.
“—welcome,”Iwhisper.“Iwasgoingtosayyou’rewelcome.”
Theseatleathercrinklesasheshiftstowardme,drivingmebackward.
Nothingaboutthiskissisgentle.Hetiltshisheadtochangetheangle,andIlethimindeeper.It’stongues,friction,agroandeepinthebaseofhisthroatthatechoesbetweenmylegs.Hetugsmybottomlipwithhisteeth.
“Luke?”Iclosemyeyes.“Arethesejustthank-youkisses?”
Hepinchesmyjawbetweenhisthumbandforefinger,studyingmyfacelikehe’ssavoringtheview.Likehewantstoseeme.Tasteme.
“No.”Hishandplungesintomyhair,twiningitinhisgripashislipsskateacrossmyjaw,draggingpure,wetheatinamessypath.Hemoveshishotmouthovermyear.“ThoughI’mexceedinglygratefultonight.”
“Oh.”Itwassupposedtobeaword,butitescapesasacryasheappliessuctiontomyneck.Rawneedtearsthroughme,buildingbeneathmyskin.“Whataboutearlier?Whatabouteverythingyousaidbeforedinner?”
“ImeantwhatIsaidaboutnotdoingthingsIcan’tseethrough.AndIthoughttellingyouwouldbetheendofit.”Roughfingersgripmyhipashesucksandlicksapathtothehollowofmythroat.Myheadtipsbackashisbitingandsuckinggrowstronger,hishandsqueezingmysidetighter,burningmyskinasifmypantsaren’tthereatall.“Butyoumakemewanttotry.Youmakemethinkthingscanbedifferent.”
Thesameswirlingsensationthatcamewhenheaskedmetotakethisridereturnswithavengeance.Thatinanairportfullofpeopletochoosefrom—inaworldfullofreasonswhynotto—he’sinvitingmealong.
Iwantit.Whatevertryinglookslike,Iwantit.
“Cass,canI—we,canI—”Hepressesthenonsensicalstringofwordsintomyskinashishandslidestomyback,moveslower.
Iletoutanoisethatsoundslikeplease
Hebrusheshislipsovertheshellofmyear.Hisgriptightensovertheexactspotwhereassmeetsleg.“Isthatayes?”
“Please,yes,I’llsayitineverylanguage,justdon’tstop”
“OneisallIneed.”
“Ja,síoui.”
Hetriestohitchmylegoverhiswaist,andIknockthegearshifterwithmyknee.Wefumbletoalignourselvesbutcan’twiththecenterconsoleintheway.Myimpatienthandsroamhischest,greedilytakingwhatevercontactIcanget.
Histrailofkissesleadshimtothebunched-uphoodofhissweatshirtatthebaseofmyneck.
Heballstheheminhisfist.“Howcoldareyou?”
“Sweltering.”Igriphimbythehairandlifthisheaduntilhemeetsmyeye.“Takeitoff.”
Inaflash,hisarmsnakesaroundmywaist.
“Comehere.”Hisvoicerumblesthroughmeashepullsmetowardhissideofthecar.It’samessy,clumsymaneuveruntilwelineupjustright,mykneesnotchedaroundhislap.Hishandsshakeasheworksthefabricupandovermyhead.“Ithoughtseeingthisonyouwassexy,butit’snothingcomparedtotakingitoff.”
Athrillshootsdownmyspine.“Youlikemeinoversizecotton?”
Hethrowsitaside,hispalmsimmediatelylandingonmywaist,slidingupovermyribs.
“Ilikeyouinmyoversizecotton.”
Hisadmissionunravelsme.Itisaquarterslippedinmypalm.IwanttodropitinthemachinetoseewhatothertrinketsIcanclaim,butbeforeIcangetawordout,he’snudgingthestrapsofmytanktopdownmyshoulder,kissingalineacrossmycollarbone.
Hiseyesfallclosed,butIcan’tstoplookingathim.Goosebumpsscatterdownmyarms,overmychest.TheslideofhismouthissotenderIache.
Iacheinmybody,burningwiththeneedforcontacteverywhere.
Betweenmylegs,whereIonlyfeelthemerepossibilityofhimrightnow.
Inuntouchableplacesasheunwrapsmelikeagift,peelingthetanktopoffinoneslowtug.
AnticipationmakesmyfingersslowandsloppyasIfumblewiththeclaspofmystraplessbra.Hecloseshispalmovermyfingers.“MayI?”
Myarmsdropawayasheunhooksitwithease.Itfallstomylap.
“Fuck,lookatyou.”
He’sstilllookingatmyface.Likehe’sreallyseeingme.I’mtopless,butstillheholdsmygaze.
“Luke.”Itilthischindownanddragahandacrossmychest.“Touchme.”
Hiswarmhandscupme,tracingtheoutlineofmybreastswithhisthumbsuntilmyskinisalivewithgoosebumps.Hiseyesdarkenandhismouthparts.Withanimpatientgroan,histouchturnsmessy,needyashefansovermynipples,strokingandtwisting.
Igriphimbythebackofhisneck,guidinghimcloseruntilhismouthcloses,trappingdelicious,wetheatoverme.
HeswirlshistonguearoundmynippleuntilI’mwrithinginhislap.WhenIcan’ttakeitanymore,heswipesthecenterwithonebroadstrokeandnipsmewithhisteeth,pullingacryfrommymouth.
Helicksalineacrossmychesttotheotherhardpeak,whereherepeatsthemaddeningtortureuntilI’mreducedtoababblingmess,groaning,“Yes,”and,“Thatfeelsgood,”asIgrindagainsthislap.
Iwhimperashismouthleavesmyskin.Hisjeans,hisbulge,everythinghardrubsagainstthethinfabricofmyyogapants,sendingashockwavethroughme.Sweet,deliciouscontact.
“Lieback,”Imurmur,pushingagainsthishardchest.
Heobliges.AsIdrapemyselfoverhimtomeethismouth,mypulsethunderseverywherewe’repressedtogether.I’veneverbeensurerthattheheartbeatsineveryinchofthehumanbody.Hisfingersroammyback,thenapeofmyneck,mychest,tantalizingeveryplacehedoesn’tlinger.
Thehardpressofhimbetweenmylegsgrowsinsistentthelongerwemovetogether.Histonguedelvesdeepinmymouth,andIgiveminerightback,wishingIhadenoughspacetodragmymouthdownhistightbodyandlickthedipbetweenhisabs.
Hishandcoastsovermyass.Itraphiswristandputitback.“I’veseenthewayyougripasteeringwheel,handsome.Don’tgoeasyonme.”
Hegroansintomymouthanddigshisfingersintotheswelluntilitstings.
“Yes.”Igrindagainsthim.“Justlikethat.”
“Fuck,Iloveitwhenyoutalk.”Hisotherhandfindsmyhip,andhedragsmebackandforthacrosshislap.Weplayadangerousgame,movingtogetheraswewouldifwewerenaked.
Impossibly,somethingwhiteandhothoversinthedistance,likeifIwantedto,Icouldcomelikethis.Justfromthefrictionofhisjeansandthesoundofrawneedinhissplinteredgroans.
Heslideshishandsinsidethewaistbandofmypants.Isuckinabreathashisroughpalmsscratchagainstmyskin.Hetakestwogreedyfistfulsofass.I’mcertainhe’sabouttoletgowhenhekneadsharder,playswithitlikeit’shis.Oh,doIlikeunrestrainedLuke.
Ilikeeveryversionofthisman.Andtonight,underthestars,Iwanttoshowhimjusthowmuch.ChapterTwenty-Five
Luke
Cassidysitsup,dragginghernailsdownmychestasshestraddlesme.She’sagoddamnworkofart,flushed,backlitbythemoon.
Islidemypalmsoverherhips,upherribs,myfingertipsmemorizinghercurves.Thissnapshotofherissearedintomybrain.Herbodylordingovermine,mussedhairfallingoverherdeliciouschest,gazeroamingmybodyasshetoucheswhatevershewantswithacurioushungerinhereye.
Outhere,we’retheonlytwopeoplewhoexist.Myblack-and-whitelifedoesn’texist.SheisTechnicolor,asrichasthesky.
Herfingersskirtmyachingcock,andshetsk-tskslikeascoldingteacher.“Whatarewegoingtodoaboutthis?”
Desperatetofeelher,Islipahandintoheryogapantsandbypasshersilkyunderwear.Isuppressthenoisebuildinginmythroatathowfuckingwetsheis.She’ssoreadyIcoulddriveinsideofherinoneeasythrust.She’dtakeit,hereagerlittlenoisesinmyearasshemovedthattightbodyupanddown,beggingmedon’tgoeasy,tofuckherharder—
Heatbuildsatthebaseofmyspine,andIclenchafist.It’sunreasonablehowhardIam,andit’snotjustthatit’sbeensolong(thoughithasbeen).
It’sher
Ifshesomuchastouchesme,I’mdonefor.
Shefumbleswiththebuttonofmyfly.
“Fliparound.”
Pausing,hersultrygazeflitstomeetmine.“What?”
Grippingherhips,Iguideheruntilshe’sfacingfront,sittinginmylap.Imomentarilymisplacemythoughtsasmyfingersslidealonghersoftskin,grazingtheundersideofherperfectchest
Menhavegonetowaroverlessthanthiswoman’sbody.
Inudgeherleggingsdown.Shetakesovertoworkthemtherestofthewayoff,tossingthemandherthongasideasmyhandscontinuetoroam.
Nakedandutterlygorgeous.
Mythumbsbrushherhardnipplesuntilsheshudders,rockingherhipsback,drivingherassintome.
Iinclinemyseathalfwayandpullherbackagainstmychest.“Putyourfeetonthedash.”
Sheobliges,plantingoneoneachsideofthesteeringwheel.
Likethis,Icanexploreeveryinchofher.
I’veonlyjustcaressedtheskinbelowherbellybuttonwhenshemoansandarchesherback.Herhandfliestomineandguideslower.Noshyness,allneed,drivingmefuckingwildasshedragsmyfingersoverherclitandmovesagainstme.Sheletsmetakeover,andIkeeptherhythmasherhandwindsbehindmyneck.
IfIthoughtI’dhavemorecontrolovermyselfinthisposition,Iwasdeadfuckingwrong.ItakeherearlobebetweenmyteethasIslipafingerinside,thenanother,pressingtheheelofmyhandagainstherhot,throbbingskin.It’snotlongbeforeI’vefoundtherhythmandpressurethatmakeherbodytenseandshakeinanticipation.
“Icanfeelhowcloseyouare.Ishouldtakemytime,makeitevenbetter.Fuck,there’ssomuchIwanttodo—”
“Please.”Herlegsquiverandshearchesoffme.“Harder.”
Itwistmywristtostrokeherwithtwofingersdeepinside.
Theclosershegets,themoreshewrithesagainstmylap.I’msecondsawayfromcomingfromthepressureoftherhythmicdragsofherbodywhensheclampsaroundmeandcriesmyname.Yes
Itakeeverylastbitshehastogive,unrelentingwiththepumpofmyhand.Hersoundsareswallowedbythecanyonasshedigshernailsintomyneck.
HershudderingbreathsregulateasIeaseoutofher.
Inaflash,sheturnsherselfaroundandcurlsherhandsintothefabricofmyshirt.Assoonassheripsitoff,shegaspsintoasmile,asanimatedinthisreactionassheisineverything,always.“Pantsoff.”
Heatsurgesthroughme,andI’msohardIcanbarelysee.Shepawsatmyjeans,andIliftmyhips.Wetakethemofftogether,andwhenshefreesmefrommyboxers,suddenlynothingisfunny.Herhandagainstmytightskintakesmyneedtoanotherdimension.Herpalmslidesinaslow,languidstroke.Thenanother,likeshe’snotsureshehasaplanjustyet.
Idragherfacetomineandbreakhermouthopenwitharoughkiss.There’snothinguncertainaboutthewayIneedher.Ourteethsmashtogetherandmytonguetakesandtakes,lappinguphersounds.HerhairissmoothbetweenmyfingersasIdiginandtakehold.
“Ilikeitwhenyoupullmyhair.”
“Fuck,”Imutter,yankinghard.Hercryispurebliss,eggingmeon.Shecontinueshergentlehandstrokes,andIthrobagainstherskin,mybloodpooling,luringmeclosertoapointofnoreturn.
“Cass…”
“Mhm.”Sheratchetsupthepace.Herheaddipstomyneck,kissingandbitingandsoothingwithhertongue.Iimaginethattonguesomewhereelseandhavetostealmycockfromherhand.Igripthebasetokeepfromcoming.
Withmyotherhand,Igropeforthehandleofthecenterconsole,almosttearingtheplastictopoff.IretrievetheTrojanboxandholditbetweenus.
“Iboughtcondoms.Iknowitwaspresumptuous—”
“Thankgod.”Sheripstheboxoutofmyhandandtearsitopen.Shehoversabovemeassherollsoneintoplace.
Mythumbcirclesherhot,swollenfleshoverandover,tearingawhinefromhermouth.
“Areyousure?”Iask,meetinghereye.
“Iwantthis,”shesaysinabreathlessrush,liningusup.Herbeguilingblueeyeskickmerightinthesolarplexusasshelowersaninch.“Iwantyou.”
Myimpatiencetobewithherconsumesmybody,andIjutintoher,myhipsleavingtheseat.She’ssotightIfreeze.“Isthisokay?”
“Yes.”Shepinchesmychinandclaimsmewithakiss.“Ican’tgetallthewaydownunlessyoupushup,becauseofthecar.”
Igripherwaistandpushhardofftheseat.Wegasptogether.Againandagain,wemovelikethis.Shebracesherarmsonthebackofmyseat,holdingonasIsetthepace.
Mybodywantstodevourhers.Iuseherhipsashandles,pumpingherupanddown.Shebowsforward,teasingmymouthwithhernipple.
RememberingIcantouchthese,too—rememberingherass,hermouth,everydivinepartofherisavailabletotouch—unlockssomethinggreedydeepinmychest.ItakeherbreastinmymouthandsuckuntilI’mfullofher.
Herhandsmovetomyhair,tugginghard.“Biteit.”
Isinkmyteethintoflesh,cockthrobbingattheeagernessinherprettyvoice.
Myhandrunsupherleg,andIfeelherthighsquiverfromholdingherselfupinthisstupid,narrowseat.
“Spinaround,”Iorder.
ShedoesasIask,elbowsthehorn,andgiggles.It’sthemostCassidysoundintheworld.
Butwhenshedrivesallherweightbackwardandtakesmedeeper,nooneislaughing.Shegripsthesideofthecarasshetakescontrol.
Thispositionispurebliss.OnethrustandI’malreadyhalfwaygone,heatandstaticgatheringlow,everymusclestrainingforrelease.Iflickopenthevisormirrorandglimpseherface,hermouthopeninaperfectO
Thereflectionofherhot,hoodedstareswallowsmeupandspitsmeout.
Mythumbmovesoverherslickflesh.There’snothingsoft-focusaboutthis,thewayshe’sgaspingassheridesme,beggingmetofuckher,crying,“I’malmostthere,I’mthere,ohplease.”Andthenshe’swordless,hermusclestighteningasherorgasmgripsusboth.Thefrayedropeofmycontrolsnaps,andIcomesohardandfastmyvisionblursattheedges.
Wepant,oursweatybodiespressedtogether.
Astherushsubsides,sheturnsbackaroundtofaceme.Herhandmakesasoothingcircuitupmychest,overmyshoulder,downmyarms.
Mereminuteslater,she’soutlikealightontopofme,faceburiedinthecrookofmyneck.Asifweweren’tjustpantingandwild,cryingouttothegoddamncosmosaswefellapart.
Asifthatdidn’tjustchangeeverything.
…
Lightseepsintomyclosedeyelids.
Iblinkwhenthebrightnessbecomestoohardtoignoreandclockthesunrisesplayedacrossthepanoramicsky.TheusualbaselinedreadthattricklesovermeasIwakeisnowheretobefound.
Ipopuplikeajack-in-the-box.
It’salongfewsecondsuntilIspotCassidyonaflatstretchofburntsiennasandstone.She’sfullydressed,unlikehowIleftherwhenwefellasleep.
Afterretrievingmyglassesfromthebackseat,I’mabletobetterseetheshowinfrontofme.Andbyshow,ImeanCassidy,inafullsidesplit,armsreachingforherrightankle.
Christalive,sheisbeautiful.
IttakesseveralblinkstoconfirmI’mnotdreaming.Thiswomanisstretchingatsunrisewiththebackdropofashallowcanyonbehindher.Idon’tdaremoveincaseshehearsmeandstops.Herarmsriseoverhead.Shetwistsherwristsafewtimesbeforelacingherfingersandtiltingherfacetowardthemorningsky.
IstirdustwithmyfootfallsasIapproach.WhenI’mhoveringalmostdirectlyaboveher,sheflashesmeasmileandun-contortsherbodytocrossherlegs.Shetapsthegroundbesideher.“Lookslikesherbet,doesn’tit?”
Squintingtowardthesky,Itakeaseat.“Itdoes.AndInever,everwould’vethoughtofthat.Ilikeyourbrain.”
Herheadsnapstowardme.“Thatmightbethenicestthinganyonehaseversaidtome.”
Igrabherchinandplantonesoftkissonherlips.“Goodmorning.Emphasisongood.”
Ahuethatmatchesthesunrisespreadsacrossherface.“Yeah?”
“Yes.Bigtime.”
Shebitesherlip.“Okaythen.”
Andwiththat,itfeelslikesomethingissettled.
Iwanttoletthiswomanin.UntilImether,Ithoughtfeelingswereeasilycontrolled.Achoice.
NowI’mriddledwiththedamnthingsandthey’rewinning.LeaveittoCassidytotornadomybeliefs,justlikeshetornado-edmytrip.Inthebestway.
“Howlonghaveyoubeenawake?”Iask
“Notlong.Iwascheckingemailsanduh…”Sheblinkstowardthehorizon,andherponytaildancesinthebreeze.“Iappliedforajobafewmonthsback,andtheywantaninterviewinthenextfewweeks.”
“Cass!That’sawesome.What’sthejob?”
“DanceteammanagerforanewAshevillesquadthat’sforming.I’dbebuildingitfromthegroundup.”
Iscootcloserandreelherin.“Soundslikeanincredibleopportunity.”
Thepauseissubstantialbeforeshesays,“Yeah.It’smyentiredream,nobigdeal.Itwouldrequiresomuchcreativityandhustle,whicharethetwothingsIbringtothetable.Butitprobablywon’tamounttoanything,soI’mnotgoingtogetmyhopesup.I’dforcedmyselftoforgetaboutit.”
“Soundslikeitwouldbeperfectforyou.Butmoreimportantly,you,forit.”
Sherestsherchinonhershouldertolookatme.“You’reprettyhotwhenyou’rebeingsupportive.”
Icockmyheadtotheside.“I’malwayssupportive.”
Herwinkcurlsaroundmeandsqueezes.Damnifshedoesn’tpullthoseoff.“Doyouhaveadream?Iknowyou’retotallyaccomplishedalready,withyourspreadsheetsandsuch.Butbeyondjobs.”
“I’vegotplentyofdreams.I’mnotacyborg.I’dliketowatchafilmingofDoctorWho,preferablyonewithcyborgs.”
“Ibetthat’dbefun,geekingoutonset.”Shetapsherbootstogether.
Mygazewanders.“IguessifI’mreallythinkingaboutit…I’dliketobeabletobuymymom’shouseoutright,thenmyown.I’dlovetotakemysisterandherkidsonthekindoftripssheandIneverhadgrowingup.IusedtohatebeingtheonlykidinmyclasswhohadneverbeenoutsideofCalifornia.Theworldfeltsosmall.Idon’twantthatformynieces.”
Cass’sheadfallsagainstmyshoulder.“That’sreallynice.Anythingelse?Maybesomethingforjustyou?”
“Someday,IplantoopenmyownconsultingfirmwithRogelio’shelp.That’swork,technically,butit’sthebenchmarkI’vebeenbuildingmycareeraround,soitfeelsbiggerthanajob.Oh—Rogelio’sbeentalkingaboutwaystogivebacktothecommunity,startinghisownversionofHabitatforHumanityorsomething.I’dliketoparticipateifIcanfindthetime.NottobragbutI’vegottenprettydamngoodwiththemostbasicformofcarpentry,affixingboardstootherboards.”
Shemakesahummingsound.Hergazefallstoherfeet,andshehugsherlegstoherchest.
“What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”Sheflashesmeatentativesmile,pushesofftheground,andextendsahandtohelpmeup.“Forwhatit’sworth,IthinkyoushouldabsolutelychasethatDoctorWhodream.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”Shereachesuptopeckmeonthecheek.“Andalltherest.Yourfamilyisluckytohaveyou.I’mdrivingtoday.Youdidn’tgetenoughsleep.ThoughIguesstonight,you’llbeabletostockbackup.Athome.”
Home
Abombofaword,droppedbetweenus.Areminderofourveryunforgivingtimeline.WehavealottofigureoutbeforeIsomuchasthinkabouthome.
We’realmostoutoftime.
Wereachthecar,andIclosemyhandaroundhersbeforeshecancrosstothedriver’sseat.“Cass.Areyouokay?”
“Totally.Onehundredpercent.”Shestudiesmyfaceforafewseconds.“Justneedcaffeine,Ithink.”
“Okay.”Itipmychindownandlookherstraightintheeye.“Justsowe’reabundantlyclear,lastnightwasdamnnearperfect.Butifitwasn’tforyou,oryou’rehavingregrets,weshoulddiscuss—”
“No!Noregretswhatsoever.That’snot…”Shenods,frantic.“Iverymuchenjoyedcarcamping.IwillberatingitveryhighlyonTripAdvisor.”
Ibrushdustoffhercheek.“Ifcarcampingwasalwayslikethat,I’dliveinmyJeep.”
Herfingerssneakinsidemyshirt,skimmingmystomach.“Ifcarcampingwasalwayslikethat,Iwouldactuallycamp.AndIwouldn’tburnoutmyvibrators.”
Myheadfallsback,andIletoutagroan.Mybrainhasneverworkedfasteratsummoningavisual:CassidyandIcampinginmyJeepwiththebackseatsfoldeddown.Herfavoritetoy—pink,Ibetit’spink—becomingmyfavoritetoyasIuseitonhersomanytimesweburnoutthebattery.
Myhandslandonherwaist.“Idesperatelyneedtoknowmoreaboutthisbutalsocan’tstandtothinkaboutyouandsextoysifwehaveanyhopesofgettingontheroadanytimesoon.”
“Fairenough.”
Thetipsofherfingerswaterfallovermyskin,draggingheat,stoppingatthesensitivehollownexttomyhips.Igruntandsqueezeherwaist.“Fuckit,tellmeeverything.Morethanonevibrator?Atthesametime?Differentmodels?”
Herhandsfallaway,andshetakesafewstepsbackward,eyesalightasshemimestheclosingofazipperoverhermouth.
I’magoner.
…
Cassidydriveslikeateenager,reclinedwithonehandlazilydrapedoverthewheel,theotherwanderingaround,pokingbuttons,messingwithherhairormouth.
Hoursin,shepluckshercoffeeoutoftheconsoleandshoutsoverthemusic.“So,there’saquickstopI’dliketomake,ifyou’reamenable.”
Ibreakfrommyworkemailsandpeersideways.“Ohyeah?What’dyouhaveinmind?”
“World’sbiggestrubberbandball.”
“Oh,isthatlocatedin—”
“Kidding.Nothinglikethat.It’s,uh”—shesipsherdrink—“mydadlivesafewminutesoutoftheway,nearSt.George.IpromisedIsabelleI’dtalktohimaboutreconsideringhisstanceoncomingtothewedding.”
“What’shisstance?”
“Thathedoesn’twanttocausedramaorovershadowherbigday.AsImentioned,mymotherdespisesmyfather.Dramaabounds.”Sheplopsthecupbackintheholder,sendingdropletsflying,andshakesouthershoulders.“Thatturboshotmaybemyundoing.Ismyskinvibratingordoesitjustfeelthatway?Anyway,woulditbeokayifwepayhimaquickvisit?”
“Sure.Notaproblem.”
OutsideofSt.GeorgeisasmalltowncalledIvins.Herdad’spropertyisnestledatthebaseofRedMountain,sprawledonseveralopenacres.
Shehooksaturnatamailboxpaintedtolooklikeanelectricguitar.
“Whatdoesyourdaddoforwork?”
“Ayearafterhemarriedmymother,helostafingerwhilepartofarailroadcrew.Thatallowedhimtoretirereallyearlyinhiscareer.Theypayhimanicesumsimplytoexist.”
“Mixedbag.I’msurehemissesworking.”
Sheshootsmeahorrifiedlook.
“Andhisfinger,”Iadddelicately.“Ofcourse,hisfinger.”
Thecarbumpsdownadustyroad,stirringcloudsofredintotheair.Ifourconvertibletopwasstilldown,we’dbechokingondirt.Hishomeissetfarbackontheproperty,andnothingispaved.
“Daddoesnotmissworking.Heisn’tafanoftheratrace.He’swhatyoumightcallanartisttype.Mymother,however,didnotliketheendofhiscareer,becauseshealwaysimaginedhe’damounttomore.‘That’swhatIgetformarryingafixerupper,’she’dalwayssay.It’slike…didsheevenknowwhohewaswhentheygottogether?Tenminuteswiththeguyand…well,you’llseeforyourself.”
“Howoftendidyougettoseehim?”
“Momhadsolocustody.Hefoughtithard,butherlawyerfoughtharder.”
“Ah.Thatmust’vebeentough.”
Sheshrugs.“Ithinkshedidmydadafavor.Hegottolivehislifeouthere,unburdened.”
“Cassidy.Youarenotaburden.”
Shewavesthisoff,butnotfastenoughthatImisstheflashofregretinhereyes.“IjustmeantIthinkhe’shappierforit.Hedidn’thavetodealwithL.A.,thecostsofraisingkidsthere,thecrushingweightofmymother’sperpetualdisappointment.He’sbetteroff.”
“Heisnotbetteroffnothavingbeeninyouandyoursister’sday-to-daylife.”
“Meh.”Shestartsfiddlingwithhershirt.“Oh,hisnameisPhil,bytheway.Forgreetingpurposes.Andhiswife’snameisStacey.”
Suddenlyanewproblempresentsitselfintheformoftheliving,breathingmanI’mabouttomeet.
Inod,anervoustwitchinmygut.Ididn’thaveaturboshotinmycoffee,butmyskinsuddenlyfeelslikeit’svibrating,too.
Businessmeetings?Fine.
Meeting“artisttypes”whohappentobethefatherofthegirlI’m…somethingwith?
Ineedascript.OrWillonspeakerphonetoruninterference.
We’rehalfwayoutofthecar—mylegsalreadytoucheddownonthelot—whensheadds,“Probablyshould’vewarnedhimwewerecoming.”ChapterTwenty-Six
Cassidy
Dad’shouselooksexactlylikethephotos.
It’samodestone-story,redbrick,ranch-stylehouse,completewithafrontporchmissingonestep.Solarpanelslinehisroof,andatleasttenchickensroaminagiantcooptotheleftofthehouse.
“Youdidn’ttellhimwewerecoming?”Lukeasksinarush.“Whatif—”
“Godsavetheking,that’snotmyCass.”
Dadlopesoutofacoveredgaragetotherightofthehouse,wieldingametaldetector.Hepauses,putshisfreehandtohisforeheadlikehe’ssaluting,throwsdownhistool,andbreaksintoanunselfconsciousjog.
Hedoesn’thesitatewhenhereachesme.HisarmspullmeintothetightesthugI’veeverexperienced.
“Well,thisisafantasticsurprise.”Hereleasesmeandclaspsmyshoulders.“YoulookjustlikeyournanaDuncan.Ifshecouldseeyou,she’dbetickledsillyattheresemblance.”
“Wait,Nana”—Ilowermyvoice—“passed?”
“Nah,shejustcan’tseeforbeans.”Heslapsmyshoulder.“Comeonin.”
“Dad,”Isay,turningmyattentiontothemanstaringveryintentlyatthechickencoop,“thisisLuke.”
“Well,wouldyoulookatthat?”DadapproachesLuke,putsouthishandlikehe’sreadytoshake,anddropsitassoonasLukereachesforittopointatthecar.“Howlongyoubeendrivingmydaughteraroundonaflat,Luke?”
“Wait—what?”Lukescramblestocheckthetiresasmydadgraspshisstomach,holdinghisorgansinplaceashefull-bodychuckles.
“Nah,justkidding.AlwayswantedtomakethatjokeformyCassidy.”HegivesLukeaproperhandshake,andmystomachdoesapirouette.
Dadreturnshisattentiontome,throwinganarmovermyshoulder.“C’monin.Staceywasjustwhippinguplunch.”
Thescreendoorrattlesaswepassthrough,Dadfirst,thenme,followedbyaverywaryLuke.Myhanditchestowraparoundhis,butI’mnotsureifholdinghandsinfrontofpeopleisonthethingsLukeandIdolist.
MybreathcatchesinmychestaswecrossDad’slivingroom.Itsmells,impossibly,likesomewhereI’vebeen.ThefamiliarityofthatsettlesovermeasmygazecatchesonaphotoofmeandIsabelleonthewall.Itmustbeatleastaneight-by-ten,ifnotbigger,inanovalframe.Wecan’tbeolderthanfive,bothsportingtoothygrins.It’soneofthefewpicturesI’veseenofuswherewearen’tdressedtotheninesinfrills—justcoordinatedoveralls,Isabelle’samarooncolorandmineadarkgreen.
It’sasbigasthephotoofhistwodaughtersrightnexttoit.Asifwearesomehowequaltothegirlshegottoraisetheirwholelives.
IpresstheacheinmychestthatIhavenotimetonurseasDadsauntersthroughthehouse.
“Stacey!Guessthefuckwhat,baby?”Dad’sslicked-backblackhairgleamsunderarowofpendantlightsasheleadsusintothekitchen.“IfoundCassidy.Washeduprightonshore,ifyoucanbelieveit.”
Stacey,whoI’vemetahandfuloftimeswhenshe’sjoinedmydadon“business”inLosAngeles—whichwascodeforcomingtovisitmeinawaythatwouldn’tupsetmyfull-custody-havingmother—isaquieterpresencethanDad.
Byaboutone-quarterofadecibel.
ShechucksherladleonthestoveandgivesmeahugtorivalDad’s,screechinginmyear.“Holyguacamole,lookatyou!Phil,shelooksjustlikeyourmother.I’llhavetofindaphoto—IhadnoideayouwerecomingorIwould’vemadesomethingotherthanThursdayStewSurprise.Iwould’vemade…”Shetapsherpointychin.“WhatwouldIhavemade?Letmethink.Maybearoast?”Hergazehopsovermyshoulder.“Hey,who’sthis?”
“Sorry,yes.”IreachbehindandtugLukeforwardbytheclammywrist.“ThisisLuke.”
Luke’sanswering“hi”isacroak.“Nicetomeetyou.”
Itosshimacuriousglance.Boysoundslikehestrainedavocalcord.IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dsayhewasnervous.
Hispossiblenervesmakemyownpulsestutter.
MaybeIshould’vethoughttwiceaboutbringinghimhere.Heck,I’veneverevenbeentomyfather’shouse.Iknewtheaddressbyheart—mailinglettersonceaweekcementsthingstomemoryprettyfast—butIwasneverallowedtovisitgrowingupandhaven’tbeenasanadult.Inthetimeswe’veseeneachother,Dad’scometome.
“Luke…”Staceytapshertemple.“HaveweheardaboutaLuke?”
“Yeah,he’soldfriendswithMatthew,Mark,andJohn,”Dadchimesin,lickingtheladleheprocuredfromthestove.Whenthisdoesn’tgetalaugh,headds,“Alittlebiblicalhumor.Nodisrespectintendedifyou’reintothat.Ornotintothat.”
“Phillovesnewpeople,”Staceysaysinastagewhisper.“Getstotryoutnewmaterial.Welcometoourhome,Luke.AnyfriendofCassidy’sisafriendofours.”
Friend.That’sonewaytodescribeLuke.
Thoughnofriendsofminearekissingmetenderlyonesecondanddrillingintomeinthefrontseatofaconvertiblethenext.
Ishakeoffthethoughtsbeforetheycreepupasablush.
Dadtakesaseatatacounterbarstool.“So,whatbringsyoutwotoourhumbleabode?”
“Wewereunexpectedlyinthearea.AndIwashopingyouandIcouldtalk.Aboutthewedding.”
Hisforeheadwrinkles,justenoughtohintathisunease.“Ah.”Hetapstheladlehe’sinexplicablystillholdingagainstthecounter.“Sure,wecantalk.ThoughIcan’tsayit’llchangemymind.You’restayingforlunch,right?SeemsashametodriveallthewayouthereandnottryStacey’sThursdaySurprise.”
IglanceLuke’sway,searchinghiseyes.“Isthatokay?”
“I’dbegladto,”hesays.
Stacey’svoicesnapsmebacktoattention.“Thestew’sbeenstewin’forawhilenow.Phil,doyouwanttograbbowls?”
“CanIhelp?”Ioffer.
“Youcanhaveaseatandtakealoadoff.Bothofyourunalongtotheporch.”
Wesettleatapicnictableoverlookingthebackhalfoftheirproperty.Luke’slegpressesagainstmineunderthetable.Whenmydadrunsinsidetogetthesalt-and-peppershakers,Staceyleansinandasksinalowvoice,“How’sweddingprep?”
“Notwithoutitscomplications,”Ihedge.
“Ihearya.There’sareasonyourdadandIeloped.Well,tworeasons.ThesecondonecallsmeMom.”
Dadburstsbackontothescene,clutchinganElvis-and-Priscillaceramicshakerset.
“Iputplentyinthemeal,Phil,”Staceylaments.“Youdon’tneedtoloadup.”
“I’mjustgoingtoputinanextradash.IcallittheDASHdiet.”Helowersintohisseat.“Sohow’dyouwindupinUtah,Kiddo?”
“TookawrongturnonSunsetBoulevard.”
Dad’sheartylaughflamesmyegosomuchIflush.PeekingoveratLukewhoiseatinghisstewinaveryno-nonsenseway,Iadd,“It’sactuallykindofafunnystory.LukeandIweretravelingfromNorthCarolina.Hestolemyparkingspace.”
Lukeswallows.“Unintentionally.Andthenwewereonthesameflight.”
“Ourplanewasgrounded.”
“Thenourrentalwashitafterwepulledover—”
“Totallysmashed.”
“Cassidywasfreakedout,sowedecidednomorecars.”
“ThenAmtrakwasaslow-motiondisaster.”
“Sothenwegotanothercar.”
Imeethiseyes,thosehoneyhazelshypnotizingintheirbrightness.“Coupleofstopslater,hereweare.”
“Hereweare.”Hequirksasmilethatmakesmehonest-to-Godweak.
AfewsecondsdriftpastbeforeIrealizewe’reopenlystaringateachother,grinninglikecarefreeteenagers.Isnapmyattentionbackacrossthetable.
Dadlowershisspoon.Ithitstheplatewithaclink.“Waitasecond.You’retellingmeyoutwojustmet?Andnowyou’redrivingmydaughteracrossthecountry?”ChapterTwenty-Seven
Cassidy
“Ivettedhim,don’tworry,”Irushtoadd.“Didallthesafethings,videochattedmyroommatesoshecouldmeethimandgetaphotoofhisID.Knowingher,sheranafullbackgroundcheck.Ialsocorroboratedhischaracterwithhisoldestfriend.”
Dadpinchesthebridgeofhisnose,andhiseyesfallshut.“Thiscan’tstand.Stacey,getSheriffDarlingonthephone.”
Lukerustlesaroundhispocket,hisexpressionurgent.“ShouldIgetsomeoneonthephonetoverifymyidentity?OrIcanpullupmysocialmedia,ormysister’s?”
“SheriffDarling’sinCabo,”Staceysays.“WhataboutDeputyForge?”
“Yes,thedeputywilldo.”
“Dad,Idon’tthink—”
Staceyhasacelltoherearwhenmydadburstsintolaughter.
Ifreeze.“What’ssofunny?”
Dad’shairfluffsinthebreezeashecatcheshisbreath.“She’snotcallingthesheriff,CassaFrass.Wearejustgivingyouahardtime.”
Myanswerisaweak,“Oh?”
“Yes.Yousaidyouvettedhim.”HeshootsLukehismostdisarmingsmile.“Youdon’thaveanyskeletons,doyou?”
“No.None.”Hescramblestorescuetheburnerphonefromhispocket.“ShouldI—doyouwanttoseemyLinkedIn?”
“Luke,IwouldlovetoseeyourLinkedIn.Pull’erup.”
“Dad.Itrustmyroommatedidherduediligence.Let’snotgivehimahardtime.”IglanceataverysweatyLuke.“Hesavedmytrip.IthinkI’dstillbeinthatfreakingMissouriairportifitwasn’tforhim.”
IstartlewhenIfeelhishandsqueezemykneeunderthetable.“Yousavedmine.”
Dadliftshisglass.“Wellthen.Cheerstoeveryfather’sdream,learninghisdaughterisridingincarswithstrangers.Don’tbeshy—getthatcupupthere,Luke.”
Staceylaughsassheliftshers.“Don’tlethimfoolyou,Cass.Ribbingyouaboutmenishisdream.”WhenshelooksDad’sway,it’snothingshortofadoring.“Thoughthetimingmaybeafewyearstoolate.”
Dadshootsmeasmile.“Nevertoolate.”
Alogjamsinmythroat.Icanonlynod
“Whatdoyoudoforwork,Luke?”Staceyasks,dabbinghermouthwithanapkin.
Hebrightensatthetopic.“I’manactuary.”
DadgestureswithhishandforLuketocontinue.“Actuallywhat?”
“Uh—actuary.”Hedrawsouttheword.“Actuarialscience.Datascience.Predictingthelikelihoodofevents,calculatingriskssocompaniesknowhowtobestspendtheirmoney,thatkindofthing.IworkatoneofthelargestconsultingfirmsintheSoutheast.”
“Actuallyanactuary,”Ireplycheerfully,stabbingahunkofpotato.
“Thatsoundslovely,”Staceycoos.“AndCass,stilldancing?”
“Ohyes,”Ireply.“Thoughitdoesn’tquitepaythebillsthesamewayasactuallyactuary-ingwould.Andmybossdrivesmebonkers.”
Luke’sbrowfurrows.“Whatboss?”
Ismilewryly.
Dadchucklesintohisstew.Afterasecond,headds,“She’stalkingaboutherself.That’sagoodone.I’mgoingtohavetowritethatonedown.TheygavemeanextrashiftatThePunchline,soI’mtryingtodiversifymyroutine.”
“IthoughtyouwerestilldoingElvisforhire.”
“Iam.Buthey,I’mretired.It’smylife’sworktohavefun.”
Ipointathimwithmyfork.“NowthatisalifestyleIcangetbehind.”
“Casshasaninterviewforanewjob,”Lukeoffers,knockingmylegwithhis.“Tellthem.”
“Anewjob!”Staceymakesasilentscreamface.“Tellusmore.”
“Headofanewdanceteam,”Isay,faceheating.IfIdon’tgetit—Iam99percentsureIwon’t—Iamgoingtodeeplyregrettellingpeople.Iusuallykeepmyuntouchabledreamstomyself,sotheycan’thurtmeifandwhentheydon’tcometrue.“We’llsee.”
“Keepusposted,”Dadencourages.“Youaresotalented;theworldisyourdanceoyster.Doyster.”
Theheatcreepsovermefurther.I’msureI’mfull-onblushing.“Thanks,Dad.”
“YoulikelivinginAsheville,Luke?StaceyandIaredyingtogetoutthere.”
“IliveinRaleigh,actually.”
“Oh!Arethetwocitiesclose?”
“Aboutfourhoursapart,”Lukeoffers.“Raleigh’sgreat.Boughtahouselastyear.”
Thehairsprickleonthebackofmyneck.
Lukeownsahouse.Howvery…settledofhim.
“So,what’snextforyoutwo?”Dadasks.
Ifumblemyspoon.
Lukeclearshisthroat.“Next?”
“Yeah.AreyoudrivingstraightthroughtoWestlake?”
“Right.Yes.”Lukescrapesthebottomofthebowl.
We’reclosinginontheendofthemeal,andIhaven’tevengottenclosetobroachingthebiggestreasonwe’rehere:thewedding.Theunsettlingweightinmystomachatwhat’snextforLukeandIwillhavetowait.
Thesoundofspinninggravelinthedistancehitsmyear.“Oh,areyouexpectingoneofthegirlshome?”
Staceynods.“No,that’llbeAmazon.Thegirlshaven’tvisitedinweeks.Can’tblamethemthoughwiththeirschedules.LisaisheadbitchinchargeattheGoldenNuggetoveronthestrip.AndPriscillabartendssixdaysaweekattheSapphire.”
Dadliftsaglass,eyesmisty.“Sofuckingproudofallmygirls.Allofyouse.Cheers.”
Weclinkglasses,andthesoundgoesstraighttomyheart.
“Speakingof…”Ihovermyglassinfrontofmylips.“Isabelle’sbeenaskingaboutyou.Ithinkyou’reunderestimatinghowmuchitwouldmeantohertohaveyouatherwedding.”
Dad’sdrinklandsonthetablewithamutedthud.“Shesaiditwasmychoice.There’sreallyonlyonewaytointerpretthat.”
“Howso?”
“Shesaid,‘Comeifyouwantto.’Tome,thatmeansshedoesn’twantmetherebecauseshewantsmethere.Theinvitewaspolite,andGodknowsitwasmorethanIexpected,butIcan’tingoodconscienceshowupjusttostrokemyownego.DoIwanttoseemyoldestgetmarried?Withmywholefuckingheart.ButI’mnotgoingtointrudeandpissoffyourmotherinonefellswoop.”
“It’spossibleIsabelledoesn’tknowhowtocommunicatewhatitisshewantsfromyou,Dad.Youknowshe’satoughnuttocrack.”
“Hundredsofunreturnedlettersisn’tthattough,sweetie.Shemadeherchoicealongtimeago.”
“Iknowitmayseemlikethat…”Itraceazigzagonthetable,watchingmyfingerintently.“ThethingaboutIsabelleisshe’ssosingle-mindedwhenitcomestojustabouteverything.Ifshegotitinherheadthatyoucouldn’thavearelationship—becauseofreasonsthatwedon’tneedtogetinto,becausewebothknowthem—she’sthetypetostaythecourse,evenifit’snotwhatshewants.”
Dadconsidersthiswithaslownod.“Icanseethat.Butshe’swhat,twenty-ninenow?Surelythedaysoffearingyourmom’sreactionhavecomeandgone.Asanadult,shestillwantsnothingtodowithme.Can’tpinthatonFrancesca,evenifIwantto.”
Ibristleatthis.“It’snotthatsimple.It’shardtogoagainstMom,evenasanadult.”
Dad’svoicesoftens.“Whoa,CassaFrass.I’msorry.ThelastthingIwanttodoisupsetyou.Iappreciatewhatyou’retryingtodoforyoursisterandme,butIjustcan’tseeawaywhereIshowupatthatweddingandshe’shappytoseeme.Iwanthertobeproudofherdad,notdreadinghisarrivalorwishinghewasn’tthesorethumbinallthepictures,youknow?”
Thewordproudplantsinmyheadandgrowsroots.“Igetit.Completely.”
I’veneverquitegottensomethingsothoroughlybeforeinmylifeasIgettheneedtomakesomebodyproud.Thedesiretoexistandhaveitbeenoughtowarrantloveandaffection.Noqualificationsnecessary.
Luke’shandfindsmineunderthetable.Thistimehelacesourfingerstogether.Adifferentkindofroottwinesitswayfromthepointofcontact.Enoughtomakepanicbloominmyheartathowrightitfeelstohavehimhere.
“Well,”Isay,anditcomesoutweak,“ifyouchangeyourmind,I’llgiveyoumytemporarynumberandwe’llworkoutaplan.”IglanceatLuke.“Unlessyouwanttotakethephoneafterwegethome?”
“No.”Hisexpressionismorelikeareyoukidding?“You’retakingthephone.Youboughtit.It’syours.”
Tonight.I’llbetakingittonightwhenwegoourseparateways.
Myheartpinchesathowverywrongthatfeels.
…
ThehouseishotaftersittingintheperfectlychilledUtahair.
StaceyhoversanddotesasDadstepsoutsidetotakeacall.“Youtwoarewelcometostayaslongasyoulike,thoughIknowyou’vegotfestivitiestoattendtoathome.Ifyou’dliketowashup,there’saJack’n’JillbathroombetweenPriscillaandLisa’srooms.Orifyouwanttorelax,theTVinthelivingroomisfullyloaded.”
WhileIcontemplatewhatafullyloadedtelevisionmightinclude,LukeandIwanderdownadark-paneledhallway.Thewallsarelinedwithpicturesinmismatchedframes.
“Thisone’syou,”hemurmurs,pointingataphotoofmeholdingafishDadmust’vecaughtandhandedtome.Ilookaboutfouryearsold.“Soisthatone,inthetutu.”
“Goodeye.Whatgavemeaway?”
“Thehair.Theface.Thewaythatit’sclearlyyou.”
Ihoverclosetohimtogetabetterlook,myarmbrushinghis.“Idohaveaface.”
Hemovesmyhairoffmyshoulder.“Thatyoudo.”
Histouchsendsastormswirlingacrossmyskin.“Ican’tbelievehehassomanypicturesofmeandIsabellehangingalloverhishouse.Andwe’veneverevenbeenhere.”
“He’syourdad.Heshouldhavepicturesofyoueverywhere.Comeswiththeterritory.”
Istifletheurgetocurlupinthatsentimentandliveinsideit.“It’slike…noneofit’sforshow.Hedidn’thangthembecausehewantedustofeelloved,sincehedidn’tthinkwe’deverseethem.Orsopeoplewouldthinkhe’sacaringdad—he’sgothisotherdaughterswhoactuallylivedheretoprovethatpoint.Hehaszeroreasontoshowtheseoff.”
“Hewantstoseethem.Hewantsremindersofyou.We’vebeenhere,what,anhour?AndIcanalreadytellthatmanloveshisdaughters.Youcould’vetoldhimyourobchildrenoftheirlunchmoneyforsportandhewould’vebeenproud.Helovesyouunconditionally.”
Myheartgallopsthroughmychest.I’vebeenwhisperingthatwishtotheuniverseforsolongitneveroccurredtomethatitcouldalreadybetrue.
“IthinkI’llcomebackheresoon,”Isayasmuchtomyselfashim.
Itwon’tbethesameasachildhoodspentwithDadaccessible.Butjustbecauseyouhitadulthooddoesn’tmeanthoseparentrelationshipsstopmattering.Ifanything,they’rethatmuchmorepowerfulbecauseyouchosethem.
Lukebrushesmytemplewithakiss.“That’sagoodplan.”
Istrokeasleeksilverframethat’ssoat-oddswiththewoodenonebesideit.“Doyoueverthinkaboutwhatitwouldbelikeifonepieceofyourlifeweredifferent?Ifoneparticulardayhadn’thappened,anevent,orevenamoment?”
Lukestraightensthecrookedwoodenframe.“Nobodywinsthewhat-ifgame.It’salwaysadraw.”
“Soundslikeyou’veplayeditbefore.”
Hisgazefindsmine.“Onceortwice.”
Mystomachturnsoverlikeacarengine.SomethinginhisheavytonesuggestsIsaidthewrongthing.“I’msorry.Isthistoomuchforyou?Thelunch,beinghere?”
Hisanswerisresolute.“No.It’snottoomuchforme.Notatall.”Hestrokesmyjawwithhisthumb.“Andthatiswhatmakesitweird.HowmuchIwanttobeherewithyou.”
Itakeafewstepsforward,crowdinghimbackwardthroughadoorwayintoPriscillaand/orLisa’sroom.Myhandsareonhimbythetimewereachthetucked-awaybathroom,andmylipsareonhisassoonasthedoorclicksshutbehindme.
Hepressesmeintothewall,pinningmelikeI’llwanderoffunlessheuseshiswholebodytocovermine.He’sbigandheavyagainstme,andI’msuddenlyfeverish,desperateforhistouch.Thediffusedraysfromafoggyskylightilluminatethehungerinhiseyes.
“Thisisbecomingaproblemforme,”hemutters.“Ican’tkeepmyhandstomyselfaroundyou.”
“Whatarewedoing?”Iwhisperintohismouth.
“Personally?”Hetrailskissesovermyjaw,latchingbeneathmyear.“I’mtryingnottothinkabouttakingyourclothesoffandkissingeverysingleinchofyou.Andfailing.”
“Excellent.I’llbequiet.OratleastI’lltrytobe.”
Hereturnstomymouthandcutsoffmygigglewithapunishingkiss.“Andyoucalledmethetease.”
“Okay,obviouslynothere.Whataboutthecar?”Itilthischinanddragmymouthdownhisneck.“Wecandrivesomewheresecluded.”
“Idon’tknowifthecarisgoingtoworkforwhatIwanttodotoyou,”heraspsandpalmsmyasslikehe’sstarvingforit.“Iwantyouonabed.”Hetugsmylipwithhisteeth.“Acouch.Theground.Anywhereflatwithalotofspace.”
But—today
Todayistheendofourtrip.We’reontracktogetbacktoourtownslatethisevening.Whereexactlydoesabedfitintothat?
Igrasphishairatthethoughtofgoodbye.Evenatemporaryone.
Iwanttoaskformore.Unthinkably,I’mtheonewhowantsaplan.DoweseeeachotherinCalifornia?WhataboutNorthCarolina?
Buttheghostsofathousandpastrejectionsfilltheroom,cloudingmyvision.Theever-presentfearthatwhatIhavetoofferisn’tenough.
Lukesaidhewantstotry.Butnotoneofhisdreamsforhisfuturehasanythingtodowitharelationship.Helistedthemoutright,lookedmeintheeye,andsaidnothingaboutthepossibilityofloveormerginghislifewithsomeone
Whywouldhemakeanysubstantialchangestoaccommodatethisthingbetweenuswhenitwon’tgethimclosertothatideallife?
Hehitchesmyleguptohiswaist,spreadingmewider.
HishardnesspressingagainstwhereIacheforhimsuredoesn’tfeellikearejection.Coulditbethisintense,couldwewanteachotherlikethis,ifwearen’tmeanttolast?
Igiveitasparesecondofconsiderationbeforemyragingneedshovesallthoughtoutoftheway.I’mspiralingsohardIdon’tevenknowwhereIamwhenI’mwithhim.WhatI’msupposedtobedoingorthinkingabout.
Today,Iwillforcemyselfnottoworryaboutwhat’snext.Iwanttoliveinthismoment.
Pressingthedoorwithmybackforsupport,Itiltmyhips,givingusabetterangleofcontact.It’ssoeasytoimaginelosingthethinlayersbetweenusanddoingthisforreal.TheansweringpulseinmycoreintensifiesasIthinkabouthimdeepinside,pushingandpushing.“Wouldyou,couldyou,inabed?Wouldyou,couldyou,hereinstead?”
“Funnygirl.”Hegrindsagainstmewithlaserprecision,andmylaughfallsawayinarush.Ipressmymouthshut,trappingmywhimper.
I’mimpossiblywet,andwhenhereachesdownandswipesonefingeroverthethinfabricofmypants,hegroansandpullsback.“Wehavetostopteasingeachotherbecausewebothknowwecan’tdothishere.”
Iguidehishipsback.“Onemore?”
“Youaresofuckingsexywhenyouaskforthings.”Hepushesharderagainstme,nearlypenetratingmewithourclotheson.ThatwhimperI’mtrappingalmostescapes.
“Okay.Ihavetostop.”Hepullsback,wipinghismouth.“Ican’tthinkstraightwhenyoutouchme.”
Ireleasemygrasponhishipsandliftmyhandsinsurrender.Westareateachotherforseveralsecondsaswerecover.Idrinkhimin,memorizingthelinesandcurvesofhisface,hisplushmouth.
Whenourfrenzysettles,heplantsakissonmylips,sogentleandtenderit’sasifweweren’tjustbarrelingtowardthedangerzoneaminuteago.
Helingers,kissingtheappleofmycheek,mylipsagain,andthenmyneck,beforepullingmeinahug.“Whatif…andyoucantellmetofuckoff—”
“Theanswerisprobablyyes.”
“—wemakealittlepitstop?We’regettinghomelatetonight,toolatetobeusefultoeitherofourfamilies.Everyoneinmyhousewillbeasleep,andhonestly,ifIgetinthatlatethedogwillbarkandwakethemup…”Hespearsmewithahopefullook.“Wouldn’tbeveryniceofme.”
Iforcemyselftothinkcriticallyaboutthesituation,evenasmybodyscreamsatmetodowhateverthismanwants.“Myfamilywillbeasleep,too.Berkeleywillbeinmybed,probablystarfishingandtakingupallthespace.Shedidtellmeonourlastphonecalltostopwakingherup…”
“Exactly.Soifwejustpushitoutafewhours,we’llarriveinthemorning,readytobehelpful.”
Asmiletugsatmylips.“What’safewmorehours?”ChapterTwenty-Eight
Luke
WeenterVegascitylimitswiththeconvertibletopdownandfindourselvesatthehandsofagoldenhour,thesundippedbutnotgone.Thestripholdsatangibleenergy,readytogreettravelersandstroketheirwalletsintosubmission.
Cass’sbodybouncesassheshiftstolookleft,right,andup.“There’ssomuchtosee!”
I’vegotonehandonthewheelastheotherstrokesthebackofherneck.“Wheredoyouwanttogofirst?”
“I’veneverdoneVegas.Ineedyoutobemytourguide.”
Itthrillsmeanunrealamounttobethefirsttoexperiencethiswithher.
Afterfightingtraffic—notahardshipwhentheweatherisadreamandabeautifulgirlridescopilot—IpullintotheLinqParkingGarage.AmachinespitsoutaticketthatIflickintothedash
Withinsecondsofparking,sheclicksoffherseatbelt.“VegasislikeL.A.’shotter,moreinterestingfriend.Theonethatactuallydoesthethingseveryoneelsepretendstodoonsocialmedia,youknow?”
“Notreally,butI’mgladyou’reexcited.”
Sheflicksdownthemirrorandchecksherreflection.Herfacedeflates.
“What?”
“Ilooklikedeathwarmedover.”Shepullsoutourphoneandviolentlytapsandscrolls.“Okay,thisisgood.There’samallrightdownthestreet.I’mgoingtorequireamomentofitstime.”
“AllofVegasatourfingertipsandyouwanttogotoamall.”
Shesilencesmewithaquellinglook.“I’vegottogetoutoftheseyogapantsyoukeepsoaking.”
Herwordsareahotpressstraighttothegroin.“Themouthonyou.”
Leaningacrossthecenterconsole,sheswirlshertongueinthehollowbeneathmyear,takingmefromvaguelyalivetohardinaninstant.“It’saveryskilledmouth.”
Withthat,sheexitsthecar.
Ishovethelimitedcontentsofthecenterconsoleinmypocketbeforetakingoffafterher.
SheguidesustotheGrandCanalShops.Thewalklaststhelengthofherstory,anaccountofhowshemetBerkeleyatapole-dancingexerciseclass.Cass,therefortheloveofthesportandtoexpandherskillset,befriendedastrugglingBerkeley,whowastheretoworkona“divorcerevengebody,”whateverthatmeans.
Insidetheregalmall,sheducksoffintoastorethatlookslikeeveryotherstore,andIfindabenchandopenmyemail.
AsgratefulasIamforthesystemthatsortsemailsbyperceivedurgency,acidrisesinmythroatatthenumberofred-flaggedmessages.Everythingcan’tpossiblybethisimportant.
Andyet,astarkmajorityarecodedassuch.Great.
Ichipawayatthemonebyone,gettinganideaofwhatI’mmissing.OnceI’vehungoutwiththefamilyforabit,I’llhavetotuckawayandrespondtosomeofthese.EspeciallytheonesforwardedbyRogelio.
Aseriesofincomingtextsreroutesmyattention.
Igenuinelythinkyoursisterlivesherenow.
Herroomisfilledwithboxes.
I’mgoingtoseeadoublefeaturetonighttohidefromyourmomandalltheweirdnessinthishouse,thenI’mturninginearly.
Berkeley.ImakeamentalnotetotellCassassoonasshecomesout.
Cassemergesfromthestorefifteenminuteslater,breathlessandinaslinkydress.
Everythoughtevacuatesmybrain.Idryswallow.
Thefabricisavibrantgreenandsparkleswhenshemoves.ThenecklineplungessolowIcan’timagineabraishidinganywhereinthere.ItisVegasindressform,sinfulandglittering.
Ifthatwasn’tenough,herlipsaredarker,likeshe’ssuckedthejuicefromastrawberrytostainthem.
“Holyshit,Cass.”
Shegivesmeacoysmile.“IzhuzhedmyselfupthebestIcould.Areyouready?Orwastheresomewhereyou’dliketostop?”
Mybrainmisfires,scramblingherwords.I’minastateofpanicovereverylastalluringinchofher.“Sorry,what?”
“Iaskedifyouwerereadytogoorneededtostopanywhere?”
“There’snowhereIneedtostop.”
“Yousure?TommyBahamaisrightthere,primeforthetaking.”
DraggingheroutofthemallbeforeIendupinaprintedvacationshirt,wepausetoacquaintourselveswithLasVegasBoulevard.
“LinqPromenadeshouldbe…”Itrailoff,sweepingmygazeacrossthearea.“South.”
“Ilinqyou,Luke.Willyougotopromenadewithme?”
Isnortandthenreorientheronthesidewalk.“We’regoingthisway.”
Ourgazelandsonasign.
TreasureIslandChapel.
Shestiffens,chewingonherbottomlip.“NothinglikeaweddingchapeltoremindmethatIshouldbehelpingprepareforawedding.”
Iscratchmyjaw.“Ifweleaveherenow,we’llgettoL.A.aroundoneinthemorning.Whatkindofstuffcouldyoutakecareofthatlate?”
“Idon’tknow.Gothroughtheboxesmysisterputinherroom.Thoughthatwouldprobablywakeher.Crap,maybethere’sreallynothingIcando.Ijustfeelbad,youknow?LikeIshouldn’tbeallowedtohavethismuchfun.”
Thehothandofguiltslidesacrossmyshoulders,pressingdown.Sophiehasn’ttakenavacationprettymuchever,buthereIamhavingthetimeofmylife.
ButifIdowakethehouseupwithmyarrival—barkingdogandall—myniecesprobablywon’tgobacktosleepwithoutafight.Mysisterwillnotappreciatethat.
“Iknowwhatyoumean,”Isayafterasigh.“ButIwouldn’tsaythisifIgenuinelydidn’tbelieveit—there’snothingusefulwecandotonight.However,ifyouwanttoleaverightnow,I’llmakeithappen.Whateveryouneedtofeelcomfortable.Istillgetfivemorehoursofyouinthecar,soI’mahappymaneitherway.”
“Luke,”shesayssoftly,steppingintomyarms.“You’regoingtomakememeltonthesidewalk.”
Ipeerdownatherbeguilingeyes.Shemayaswellreachupandfistmebythecollarforhowstrongaholdthosebabyblueshaveonme.“Stayorgo?”
“Stay,”shesaysinawhisperthatalmostgetsswallowedbythebustleoftraffic.“Aslongaswe’rehomereallyearly.”
“Done.”Ikissheroncetosealthedeal,andthenasecondtimebecauseIcan’tresist.
WefollowthebuzzofexcitementallthewaytothePromenade.
IfanoutletmallandDowntownDisneyhadachild,itwouldbethisstretchofstorefrontsandrestaurants.Twilighthassurrenderedtonight,andthebrightcolorfullightsgivethispocketoftheworldaplugged-in,freneticenergy.Intheabsenceofabreeze,thepalmtreesliningthewalkwaystandstill,noswayintheirfronds.
WechooseIn-N-Outforaquickdinner.Iturnthatgreasyburgerintopersonalgravityintwobites,whileCasstakesamoredemurefour-biteapproach.
After,westrolltowardILoveSugar,acandystoredecoratedtolooklikeanacidtrip’swetdream.Sheflouncespastagiantflamingostatueoutfrontandturnsaround,beckoningmetofollowherinside.
MygazemovespasthertotheHighRoller,alightinthesky,arcingoverthecity.“Afteryoutortureyourpancreaswithsugar,weshoulddothat.”
Herchinskimshershoulderassheturnsaround.“ThatFerriswheel?”
“Yes.WerentedoneforSophie’sex-husband’sbachelorparty.Hewasatool,butthepodwasexcellent.”
“Sophie.Yoursister,right?”
WestepinsideILoveSugar,andmybloodsugarrisesbyosmosis.“Yes.Shewasmarriedforfouryears.DivorcedhimwhenshediscoveredhehadafiancéelivinginNewJersey.”
“Whattheactualheck?Howdoyoueven—nevermind,peoplearetwisted.”Cassidyshudders.“SheandBerkeleyshouldtradewarstories.Herhighschoolsweetheart-turned-husbandwassleepingwiththeirformerhighschoolteacher.Like,theymetinthiswoman’sclass.”
“Wow.Whatanasshole.”
“Sureis.Berkeley’sfromasmalltowninNorthCarolina,soitwasahugescandal,andshehadtosellherhouseandmoveacrossthestatetokeephersanity.”Studyinganoverwhelmingwallofjellybeans,herexpressiontakesaturnforthecarefulasshestraightensanaskewpileofcandybags.“Speakingofhouses…youownone?”
“Yes.MyveryownHOAandeverything.I’vegotthefinestoproveit.”
“Soundsverysettled.”
Awispofmyearlieranxietyrisesintheair.“I…guess.”
Herheadbobsinanaggressivenod.“Cool.Ilovethatforyou.”
MygazedropsasIexaminethesideofherface.“Isthereanotherquestionburiedinyouroriginalquestion?”
Shewheelsaroundandscansthearea.Herattentionmovespastthebright,gleamingplasticteddybearfilledwithunidentifiablecandyballsandsettlesonaposter.“Yes,actually.WherecanIgetthat?”
Iswivelmyhead,andmybrowfurrowsofitsownaccord.“Youwantthatgiantsmokingmartinifilledwithgummybearstoavoidansweringmyquestion?”
“Kindof,yeah.Becausethisisapitstop,right?”Sheslipsherarmaroundmywaist.“Onpitstops,ourpriorityisfun.SoforgetwhatIasked.”
“Yesbutyou’renotapitstop.SoifyouwanttotalkaboutRaleigh,ormypropertytaxes,orIdon’tknow,tomorroweven…thatwouldbereasonable.”
Herhandsslipbehindmyneck,fingersthreadingatthenape.It’samovethatmakesmefeelclaimedinthebestway
“Wehaveafive-hourdrivetomakeandonlyacouplehoursinVegas.”Herlipsteasemineinanalmostkiss.“Questionscanwait.”
Itastehershinystrawberrylipstick.Questionsshouldn’twait,butherdistractionsareverydistracting.“Martinisitis.”ChapterTwenty-Nine
Cassidy
Thatmartinireplacedmybloodwithsugar,I’malmostcertain.
Itwasthesizeofmyhead.Imadeitthree-quartersofthewaythroughbeforeIhadtotapout.IwaitedforLuketofinishmysyrupyleftoversbeforescoopingoutaliquor-soakedgummybearforsampling.
Iabsorbtheenergyofthecrowdaswemovethroughthepromenade.Neon,itturnsout,ismyfavoritecolor.NeonandstolenVegashourswithLukemakemefeelalive.
LukeinsistsweridetheHighRollernext,amodernFerriswheelwithenclosedpods,offering360-degreeviewsofthecityasittakesyouthroughtheskyonalarge,slowrotation.
Inthelobby,weargueoverwhowillbuyticketsforthreestraightminutesbeforeIletLukewin.
Heslideshiscardacrossthecounter.“We’lldotheHappyHalfHour.Isittoolatefortheteno’clock?”
“Nope!Perfecttiming.”
Wehurrytowardthepod’sboardingplatform,andIstealanotherlookatthesignabovethecheckoutwithalltheprices.“Youdon’tdrink,really.Whydidyouchoosetheopenbarpod?”
Hisfingersbrushthebareskinbetweenmyshoulderblades,ignitingablaze.“Ihaveatheory.We’llseeifit’scorrect.”
Heushersmeoverthethresholdwithahandtothesmallofmyback.Abartenderbehindatinycountercoveredinliquorbottlesgreetsuswithabroadsmile.
Withintwominutes,ourunitispackedtocapacity—twenty-fivepeople.Theyeagerlycrowdthebarlikesharks.
Lukeducksdowntowhisperinmyearaswemovetotheothersideofthesphere.“Thegoalofahappyhourpod,asIlearnedatthatterriblebachelor’sparty,istotryanddrinkyourmoney’sworth.Thesepeoplewillbesobusygettingdrunk,they’llbarelynoticeanythingelse.It’llfeellikewehaveprivacy.”
“Likeadate.Withtwentysomethingofourclosestfriendsgettinghammeredinourperiphery.”
Heorientsmetowardtheglasswallandcircleshisarmsaroundmywaist.“AsfarasI’mconcerned,thisistheonlythingthatexistsrightnow.”
Whenhismouthfindsmyneck,Igettheimpressionhedoesn’tjustmeantheview.Imeltinhisarms,mybackagainsthischest.
Thelightsinthepodfadetonothingapartfromasingleblueneonrunnerhaloingthetopofthesphere.Lukewasright:inthedarkness,it’sonlyusandtheview.TheloudhumofnoiseandfaintmusicmakesmefeellikeIcouldsayanythingandonlyhe’dhear.Theexcitementofdrinkingandwhatevereventthey’reallapartofmeansnoonepaysattentiontous.
Weascend,slowandsmooth.Ididn’tknowIhadaspacecarvedoutinmyheartforLasVegasuntilIsawitfromtheair.NowthatI’veglimpsedtheglitteringblue,red,andsoftwhitelightssparklingacrossthecity,I’llcompareeverythingtothis.
Luke’swarmbreathonmyearpromptsanansweringtuginmycore.“Whatdoyouthink?”
“Ithinkthiswasaverygoodidea.”
Minutespassasheholdsmetohischest,liftinganarmtopointoutlandmarkseverynowandthen.Wetalkabouteverydaythings,themundanethatfeelsanythingbutwhenit’saffiliatedwithhim.Imakehimdescribehishouse,andIdothesameuntilhe’scacklingatthelevelofspecificityinmyanswer.Wediscoverwe’vebeentosomeofthesamehole-in-the-wallrestaurantsinwestL.A.Hehumstriumphantlyinmyearatthis,asiftosay,See?Wefit
“I’llcookforyou,”hewhispers,breathfanningmyneck.“Soon.Somewhere.”
Mypulsequickens.“Willyouwearmyfrillyapron?”
“I’llwearanythingyouwant,ifyou’lldothesame.”Heloosenshishold,andIfearhe’llletmegowhenhisrighthandmovestomyhip.Hispalmmovesinsmall,slowcircles.Mydressmoveswithhim,rubbingagainstmyskin.Thefrictionignitesasimmerinmyblood.
It’ssoshortallhe’dhavetodoisliftitafewinchesandI’dbeexposed.
Thebackofmyheadfallsagainsthischestandsettlesinthatcrookthatfeelsmadeforit.
Hishandslideslower,stoppingjustabovethehem.Bunchingthefabriclightly,butnotlifting.Innocent,butnotatall.Ahardbreathleavesmymouth.Ourweightshiftsforward,together,untilI’malmostpressedagainsttheglass.
“Tellmesomethingelse,”hemurmurs,walkinghisfingersinwarduntilhishandrestsonthefrontofmythigh.“Anythingyouwant.”
Laughterswellsinthebackground.
“I,um…wenttoUCLA.”
Hisfingertipsmoveinward,dangerouslyclosetotheinneredgeofmythigh.Ithrob,willinghimtomovethreeinchesfarther.Knowingweshouldn’t.MyskinflushesandItry,andfail,tofocusonabuildinginthedistance.
Theworldmightaswellnotexist.
Thecoarseedgetohiswhisper,theslighttrembleofhishand,letsmeknowhe’sherewithme,grapplingwiththesharpedgeofcontrol.“WhatwascollegeCassidylike?”
“Neverbrokeherself-imposedcurfew.”Isuckinashakybreathashisfingersdriftcloser.
Hisrighthandworksonmylegwhiletheotheranchorsonmystomach.It’snotenough.Icravehisweight,contacteverywhere.Isubtlyarchmyback,andhishardnesspressesintome.Heshiftshiships,diminishingthecontact.
IreelhiminwithmyfingershookedinhispocketuntilIfeelhimagain,theblunt,demandingridgeagainstmyback.Isneakahandbetweenusandgriphimonce.Evenjustfeelinghimthroughhisjeansmakeshiswholebodytense.Heswearsintothesensitiveskinofmytempleasmyhanddropsaway.
Morethanthedesperateachehesparksinme,orthethrillofwhatwe’redoingandwhere,IloveknowingIcandothistohim.Hemakesmefeelsofuckingdesired.
Herisksonetouchbetweenmylegs,onesinglepress,andithitslikeanuclearblast.Ican’treact,can’tmakeasound,canonlyclosemyeyesashishandmovesaway.
Iplaceonepalmontheglass,pretendingtoobservethebuildingsspecklingthehorizon.
“Youlikethis?”Hisvoiceislustandgravel.“Knowinghowworkedupyougetme?”
Breathless,Inod.
Heskateshishandbeneathmychestnow,thumbbrushingtheundersideofmysensitivebreaststhroughmydress.He’sfindingnewwaystoteaseandtest.Mynipplesstrainagainsttheno-nothingfabricofthisdress.
“Notfeelingchatty?”Hetugsmyearwithhisteeth.“WhathappenedtomyCass?”
Itwistmyheadtoseehim,andhecraneshisnecktocatchmyeye.Theintimacyofhisfaceaninchfromminewhilemybackisflushwithhisbody,hisarmbracketingmetokeepmeclose,isadifferentkindofjolt.He’swashedinthefaintestneonblue,hisfaceshadowed.WhatIwantedtosay—you’reatease,twocanplayatthatgame—fallsaway.Hismouthclosesovermine.Iexpectabriefkiss,maybeevenachasteonesincetechnicallypeopledoexistinthisplace,butit’sanythingbut.Histongueplundersmeashishandrestsonmythroattokeepmetiltedjustright.Histhumbrubsasmallcircleoverwheremypulseragesagainstmyskin.
Ibreakaway,gaspingasIdragmyattentionbackonthewindow.Icatchthefaintesttraceofourreflection,myswollenlips,hisfaceinmyhair.Hishandsbracketmyhipsandsqueeze,andI’msurewe’reboththinkingabouthoweasyit’dbeforhimtobendmeover,formypalmstobraceontheglassasIhingeforward.
Onetouch.He’spressedmeonce,likeabutton,yettheachestillbuildsandbuilds.I’mslickbetweenmythighsasIcrossmylegsforsomekindofrelief.
“Whatwouldyoudotome?”Iwhisper.“Ifwewerealone?”
“I’dlayyoudown,spreadthoseperfectlegs,andtakemytimelearningyouwithmytongue.Figuringoutwhatyoulike.Itwouldn’ttakemelongbecauseyou’dletmeknow,wouldn’tyou?You’dfeedmeyourlittlesounds.”
“Ibetyouknowjustwhattodo.”Myvoicetingedindesperation.I’msostrungouthiswordsalmostfeellikeenough.“Soattentive.”
Hetoyswiththestrapofmydress.Itwouldfallwiththefaintestnudge.
“Thenwhat?”Ibeg.
“Afteryoucameonmymouth,I’dclimbupyourbodyandletyoutasteyourself.”
Afuriousblushbreaksovermyskin,whichbarelyregistersforhowhotIalreadyburn.
“Haveyouever?”Hetracesafingerovermylips.Turnsthebottomoneoutandletsitsnapbackintoplace.Tracesmycupid’sbow.“Tastedyourself?”
ForallthetalkingInormallydo,Ican’tfindaword.Ishakemyheadno.Ican’tthinkofasinglethingI’veeverdone.HimtweakingmymouthandteasingmeonthisridefeelsmorelikesexthananyI’veactuallyhad.Ilickthetipofhisfinger.“WhatifItasteyou,instead?”
Hefalters,pullingmeharderagainsthim.Wecouldbehugging,inthishold,butIcan’texplainawayhismouthlatchedonmyneck,suckinguntilI’msureit’smarked.There’snoexcuseforhisfingertracingthenecklineofmydress,theswellofmybreast.“Youwerecreatedinalabtotortureme.”Hisvoiceisstrained.Atleastwe’rebothsuffering.“I’mabouttogetusarrested.”
“Whatelse?”Myheartbeatthundersinmyears.“Ifwewerealone,nothingholdingusback—”
“Iwanttoripthisdressoffandpressyourperfecttitsagainsttheglass.IwanttoshowyouofftothewholegoddamncityasIfuckyou.I’dmakesuretheyheardyou,too.”
IswallowmymoanasIdigmynailsintohisarm.
Thelightsflickerinthepod.
Heremoveshisholdonmeandrunshishandthroughhishair,downhisface,likehehasahundredtimesbefore.
Mybodyriotswithpanic.“Wait,isthatit?Istherideover?”
“Timeflieswhenyou’rehavingfun.”
Iwheelaroundandpressmyhandstohischest.“Idon’twantthattobeit.I’mnotreadytogo.”
Hecirclesmywrists.“Upforonemoreplace?”
I’lltakeonemoreofanythingwithhim.WhileIcan.
Heleadsmetoournextplacewithahandclaspedaroundmine.
“Sinceyouseemtolikeviewsalot,”hesays,acheekygrinonhisfaceashetugsmeintotheParisTower’slobby,“Ithoughtwe’dheadup.”
Webarelyhavetowaitforanelevator.Iwatchtheelectriccityasweflyupinourgoldencage,thelatticeofthetowerflashingthroughtheglassdoorsatevenintervals.
Lukewatchesmewatchingthecity.
Thepadsofhisfingersgrazemyjaw,driftovermycheekslikehe’smemorizingme.I’mcommittingthewayhefeelstomemory,too,thewayhistouchsparksmyskin.
Igiveupontheviewandburrowintohim.Hishandsmovethroughmyhair,achinglytender.
Hetiltsmyheadback.“Ineverexpectedthis.”Vulnerabilityflashesinhiseyes.Iwanttobuildacagearoundthat,too,andprotectit.“Ican’tbelieveyou’rereal.”
Icradlehisfaceinmyhands,guidinghisgazebacktomeasittriestorunaway.“IfeelsomuchIdon’tknowwhattodowithit.”
“Asageneralrule”—hismouthhoversnearmine,andweshareabreath—“Iavoidfeelingmuchofanything.Butyoumakeitsogoddamneasy.”
Anyonecankiss.Whatwedothistimeisdifferent.It’sanofferingdisguisedasatanglingoftongues.It’sareverentandsuresweepofourmouths.Iterasesthelastwhispersofdoubtandfearthatthisistoogoodtobetrue.
WhenwestepontotheEiffelTowerobservationdeck,it’sdarktoletthecityshine.Andempty.
Justforus.ChapterThirty
Luke
Shehasmewrappedaroundherfinger.
Ipushherbackagainstthewall.
“There’scameras,Luke,”shesaysinabreathygiggle.Ibiteandlickalinedownherneck.“ThoseUFO-lookingthingshangingoverthere—”
“Good.Letthemwatch.”
Myhandsweepsinsideherdress,overhersmolderingskin,andfinally,finally,Istrokeherhardnipplewithoutabarrier.Itwistuntilshemoans.Idipmyheadandlickitoncebeforefixingthefabric.
“I’mgoingtosnap.”Shekissesmyneck,mychin,andthenmymouthasshemovesmyhandtotheedgeofherunderwear.Igrunt,slidingpastthefabric,afingerglidingoverhot,silkenskin—
Afarawaylaughfloatsthroughtheair,andwefreeze.
Therearepeopleuphere,justontheotherside.Damnthis365-degreedeck.
Webreakapart,panting,astheywanderintoview.
Shewrapsherhandaroundmineanddirectsmyattentiontotheskyline,asnormalsightseerswoulddo.WewalkinaslowcircleastheBellagiofountainspurtstolife,puttingonashow.
Whenwereachtheoppositesideofthedeck,we’realoneagain.Wearen’t,butweare,becauseobjectpermanencedoesn’texistwhenahotwomanworksherhandsintothefrontofyourpantsandtakesituponherselftoadjustyou.
“There,”shesays,strokingthetiptuckedintomywaistband.“Better?”
“Youanglingforanotherthank-youkiss?”Istareatherlingeringhand.“Happytoobligeyou.”
Sheplantsakissonmyneck.Andanother,onthehollowofmythroat.
Andthenshekneels,scratchingherfingersdownmychest,mystomach.
“Cass…”
Hergazecutstomineassheholdsontomyhipsforbalance.Thatlookrocketsstraighttothecockstrainingagainstmyjeans.Shetugsmywaistbands—boxersandpants—withonefinger,exposingmemore.Adangerousamount.
“Weshouldn’t,”Irasp.Mybodyscreamsatmetoshutthehellup,butsomepartofmeknowsbetter.IwantitmorethanIwantmynextbreath,butIdon’twanttogethercaughtjustbecauseIcan’tholdontocontrol.
Hervoiceisawhisperinthewind.“Youlikemymouth,don’tyou,Luke?”
Suddenlythedarknessistooloudandtheairisuselessandthere’sonlytheinsatiabledesiretofeelher.
Shelicksthetip,andIthrobsohardithurts.Hertongueglidesovermeonce,takingwhatshecangetwithonlytheheadexposed.IsuckalltheairoutofVegasasIinhale,brushingthehairfromhertempleandgatheringtherestinamessyhandful.
“Onemoretime,”Ibeginastrung-outvoicethatsurelybelongstosomeoneelse.“Letmefeelyou.”
Shetugsmeoutfurtherwithherfingersandsealsherlipsaroundme,trappingwetheatasshetakesmejustaninch
Afaintclatterjoltsme,andIyankheroffherfeet.Shefallsintomyarmstocovermeasanewgroupofpeoplestepsintoview.Anotherelevator’sworth.
“Ican’tdothisanymore,”Igrindoutintoherneck.“I’mgettingaroom.Now.”
Shehumsintomychest.“Please,yes.”
IusethelastvestigesofbatterylifeontheburnertobuythefirstavailableParisHotelroomIfind.Itcouldbethebasement,thepenthouse,Ihavenoidea.I’veneverenteredcreditcardnumbersfaster.
Westandonoppositesidesoftheelevatoraswereturntotheground.Hergazerakesmeupanddown,andIshovemyhandsinmypocketssotheyaren’ttemptedtoseekherout.
Thatdoesn’tlast.Oncewegetoff,Ihavetotouchheragain.Ourhandsneverfullyleaveeachotherasweblastpastslotmachinesglintingwithpromiseandpokertablesteemingwithlife.Evenifit’sjustherfingerslacedwithmine,ormypalmtothesmallofherback,weneverbreakcontactaswedodgethethrongsofpeopleheretopresstheirluck.
It’sabuffetofflashinglightsandtemptation,butshe’stheonlythingIwant.
Oncewereachthelobby,ittakesthreeminutestogetourroomkey.IspendeverylastoneofthoseonehundredeightysecondswillingmyselfnottoputmyhandsupCass’sdressbecausethisclerkdidnotsignupforashow.
ThehungerinCass’seyesmakesmethinkshe’dallowit.
Finally,keyinhand,wehurrytofindtheelevatorbank.Ourspeedbordersonajog.
“Wow,shopstoo?Acasinoandshopsinsideahotel.Amazing.Andwouldyoulookatthosesconces?”
Itryveryhardtocareaboutthesconces,castingalookovermyshoulderaswecloseinontheelevators.
“Iwonderiftheymadeadealwithsomesortofcompany.Somuchdecor.Ashotelsgo,thisisatenoutoften.”ShetipsherheadbackasIpressthegoingupbutton.“I’mbabbling.”
“It’scute.”
“Isit?”
“Mhm.”
Whenthedoorsopen,shedragsmeinbymycollar.“Idon’twanttobecute.Nottonight.”Sheshimmiesoutofherpantiesandclosestheminmyfist.
Iliftthemtomylipsandcolorexplodesacrossherchest,upherneck.
Tuckingtheminmypocket,IwatchthemirrorbehindherasIcrowdherbackward.Shebracesonthehandrail,andItwistheraroundinoneroughjerk,likewe’rebackontheHighRoller.ButinsteadofVegas,she’stheview.
WhenImeethereyeinthemirror,hermouthparts,likeshecan’tbelievethesight.
“Iagree.”Iflickherstrapsoitfallsdownhershoulder,exposingher.Justone,sothewholedressdoesn’tfalldown.“Youarefuckingperfect.”Iburymyfaceinherneck,bitingandsoothingwithmytongue.Suckinglikeit’smyright.Herchestheavesassheletsoutaneedycrythatburrowsdeepinmybrain.I’llstillbereplayingitwhenI’msixfeetunder.
Shespinstofaceme,lipscurledintoagrin.Iduckmyhead,takingherhardnippleinmyteeth.Hersmileburstsasacrybreaksthrough.Shearchesherbackinoffering.It’sgracefulandimpressivehowflexiblesheis,andIletherknowitwithagroanpressedintoherskin.
Herhandsfistmyhair.“Ineedyouinsideofme.”
Theelevatordings.Ican’tgethertoourroomfastenough.TheinstantwestepinsideIripherdressoff.Sheworksmyshirtupandovermyhead.
Idroptomykneesandbackheragainstthedoorwithahandpressedtoherstomach.TheskininsideherthighsisslickasIkissupherleg,edgingcloser.Shechokesoutanoisethatcouldbepleasureorpain.Iplantmylipswhereshe’sswollen.
“Luke,fuck,”shepants.
“Ilovemakingyouswear.”Ihookherlegovermyshoulderandlavishherwithaslowlick.Shewrithesagainstmymouth,andIeaseafingerinside,testing.Andanother.“Youmakemefeellikeaking,makingthosesoundswhenItouchyou.”
“Happytostrokeyoure—ohOh.”Mytonguereduceshertoaseriesofbreathymoans.Ifocusonhowsheneedstobetouched,listeningtoandfeelingthesignsofherbody,butfuckifIdon’talsothinkabouthowshetastes,howbadlyIwanttoburymyselfinher.Howmanywayswecanfallapartateachother’shandsandmouths.Iwillwalkoutofthisroomwhenit’soverwantingtorentanotherroom.Stealanothernight.
Herlegsbegintoshakeandheranticipationsingsinmyblood.Theneedtogiveherthisreliefpossessesme.Icloseoverher,suckingonce.Shestartstomoveinthatfuck-merhythmagainstmyfingersandmouth.
Idragmytonguethelengthofherandlookuptomeetherhoodedgaze.“Holdontome.”Icurvemywristandmassageherwithtwofingersdeepinside.
ShefistsmyhairasIworkheruntilshewhimpers.Mythoughtsbluratthesilkenfeelofher,thewavesofsensationthatsignalshe’sclose.Ifastenmylips,suckingintinyburstsuntilsheclenchesaroundmyfinger,unmistakablytight.Tighter.There.Hercryfillsthetinyfoyerasshefallsapartonmymouth,pulsingonmyhand.Anansweringthrobinmycockinformsmethatmakinghercomeisabouttobeafuckingaddiction.
Anchoringherwithmybody,Iplantakissonherhip.Herstomach.Itiltmychin.She’smesmerizingfromthisangle.Myfingersmovetoherchest,strokingandteasing—myselfasmuchasher.ThezipperofmypantsbitesintowhereI’mpainfullyhardandreadyforher,butshe’sbeingquiet.
Cassisbeingquiet.
“Areyouokay?”
Shepullsherlipbetweenherteeth.“I’mwaitingforyoutodowhatyoupromised.Yousaidafteryoulearnedmewithyourtongue,you’dclimbupmybodyandletme—”
I’monmyfeetinaninstant,claiminghermouth.Fuckingitwithmytongue,makinghertastehersweetness.There’snootherwaytodescribeit,anddammit,shelikesit.Shecoaxesmewithanurgingmoan.Ibreakaway,readytolayherdownonthefirstflatsurfaceIfind.
Shedropstoherknees,andherquickhandsunbuttonmypants.“Myturn.”
“Cass—”
“Shh.”Shedragsmyjeansandboxerstomyankles.Ikickthemaside.Anyremainingbloodinmyheadsurgessouthtojoinher.Shemeetsmyeye,apureseductressasshetracesafingerfrombasetotip.“Letme.”
Ijerkforwardreflexively.Myarmsbraceagainstthedoor.
Herhandsgripmyhips,guidingmeforwardasshetakesmehalfway.
Iamhelplessagainstthewetslideofhermouth.“Iwon’tlastlikethis.Iwanttofuckyou.”
Releasingmewithanunbearablyhotpop,shetauntsmewithaswirlofhertongueandsinglekisstomythrobbingcrown.“Fuckmymouthfirst.”
MygroanisagrowlasIjutforward,sinkinginside.“Thatpretty,filthymouth.”
Sheurgesmewithahum,andIpushevendeeper.Ihitthebackofherthroat,andshetreatsmetoanothergleefulhum.Thatshewantstodothis,maybeevenenjoysit,ismyfantasycometolife.Itunleashestheanimalinme.Mycockswellstounbearabletightnessatherall-consumingsuction.Shecirclesherfingersatthebase,strokingintandemwithlong,luxuriouspullsofhermouth.
Itraceherstretchedredlipsasshetakesherfillofme.“Iknewyou’dfeeljustlikethisSofuckinggoodIcan’tstandit.”Abreathshuddersoutofme,andIcupherjaw.“Youare—fuck—youareeverything”
Sheis.
Andshe’srighthere,whereIcantouchandholdandravishher.Icouldbeinsideher.Wecouldbeonthebed,intheshower.PanicmingleswiththetelltalesignsofmyimpendingorgasmforallthewaysIwanther,butifIdon’tmakeadecisionnow—
Ijerkoutofhermouthandsnatchmypantsofftheground,fishingforthecondom.MyhandsshakewiththeeffortofnotpaintingthefuckingwallforhowcloseIam.
Sherisesfromherknees,herprettyeyeswide,asIrollthecondominplace.
“Canwe?”Ibegintothedark.
“Please.”
Iliftheragainstthedooranddriveinsideinonehardpush.Mylipsseekhers.I’msogoneforherImissedkissingherevenwhileshewasusingthatmouthinotherincredibleways.
“Thiswillbeoververyfast.”Myvoiceishoarseasmyfingersdigahold.
SherollsthosetalentedhipsasIincreasethespeedandpressureofmythrusts.Hernailsdiginmybackasherlegstightenaroundmywaist.“FuckmesoIfeelittomorrow.”
Thewholefloormusthearwhatcomesnext:herpalmslappingthedoorasIsetawildrhythm,obscenitiesfallingoutofmymouthasIgripherasswithonehandandstrokeherswollenfleshwiththeother.Sweatslicksourskinandherbreastsspilloutofherownhandsaswemovetogether.It’sunbearablyhothowshetouchesherselffreely,soincommandofherownbody.
Itugherhairuntilhermouthfallsopen,catchhertongue,andsuckithard.“I’msoclose.Ineedyoutogetthereagain.”Ipullbacktoglimpseherflushedface.“Showmewhatyouneed.”
ShetiltsherhipsandherjawdropsasIbottomoutinsideher.Thisistheangle.Itisthestartingwhistleofarace.Idonotrelent,andmygirldoesn’tletme.IburymyselfoverandoveruntilIhearhervoice.
“I’m,ohGod,I”—herwordsarebarelyspoken,trappedbetweenbreaths—“Luke.”
ShegaspsandtightensaroundmeasIhurtleheadlongintoapleasurebeyondanythingI’veknown.Itcontinuesafterthethrobbingandripplingsubsides.Pastthephysical.
Herfaceburrowsinmyneck.
Idon’twanttoputherdown.Idon’tthinkIcan.
Shedoesn’trushoffme,justholdsmeandpressesherlipstomyneck.Letsmestayinsideofher.
“You,”shewhispers,“areincredibleinbed.OrshouldIsayagainstthedoor?”
Thiswoman.Ichuckleinthestill-chargedair.
Shetakesmetotheedgeofdesperation,teasesmeuntilIthinkI’lldropdeadfromtheforceofmylust,fulfillsmyeverywant,andthensealsitwithajoke.Sheisasweet,hotrayoflight—thesuninmyarms.
Shemakesmewanttostayinthisroomforever.ChapterThirty-One
Cassidy
Thatwasn’tjustgoodsex.Itwasaconversation,andourbodieswerescreaming.
Itturnedmeinsideout.
I’mdazedandsated.Hecarriesmetothebed,drawingacirclebetweenmyshoulderbladeswithhisbroadpalm.OnlywhenhelowersmeontothecrispwhitesheetsdoIrealizeI’mstillwearingshoes.
Afteraquickcleanup,hekneelsatthefootofthebed.Emotionclogsmythroatasheslidesthemoffmyfeetoneatatime.Thevibrantcityscapeoutsideourwindowcastshalfhisgolden-huedbodyinbrilliantlight.Histouchisastendernowasitwasroughamereminuteago.
“Arealbed.”Hecrawlsbesideme,bringinghiswonderfulheatwithhim.Iburrowintothedivothisbodycreatesinthemattress.Hislegsthreadmineashepullsmeagainsthischest.Ourinhalessync.Myskinthrumswiththekindofsatisfactionyoucanonlygetfromafull-bodyhug.
“Luke…”
Hismouthbrandsakissintomyforehead.“Cass.”
EverythingIwanttosay—everyquestion,comment,orpromise—slipsbeneathmytongueandsetsupcamp.Idon’twanttoruinthismoment.Notforanything
“Let’sstayalittlewhilelonger,”Ifinallywhisper,mythroattightening
Hetiltsmychinup,andI’mtreatedtoeverythingupclose:hissoftsmileatrest,honey-sheenedhair,andeyesthatplayfinders-keeperswithmine.Helooksatme,andI’mhis.
It’salongstretchofsilencethatfliesbytoofast.
Eventuallyhisstrongarmsrepositionmybodysomybackisfacinghim.Ishudderatthegentledragofhisfingerashedrawsashapeovermyspine.
“Cass.”Hismurmurskatesacrossmyneckashetraceslettersintomyskin,oneatatime.C.A.S.S.
Mylipspullintoasmilehalfburiedbymypillow.“Yes?”
“Ihaveaconfession.”
Iattempttorollover,andhestopsmewithafirmhandonmyhip.Hebeginstowriteagain.C.A.L.I.“Ihaveplayedroad-tripgames.Withmyfamily.Itwastheonlytripweevertooktogether,allfourofus.”
AhazyimageofatinyLukewithkidglassesandaneagersmileflitsthroughmyhead.“I’msorry.”
Hissighissoftbuthitslikeabrick.“Don’tbe.Itwasoneofthebestweeksofmylife.Ihadnoideahowmuchmylifewasabouttochange.”
Myheartwantstoclawitswayoutofmybacktoreachhim.
“WhatI’mreallysaying”—hepauses,exhalinggently—“isIthinkIloveroad-tripgames.Icouldn’tforalongtime,butI’dliketoplaythemagain.Withyou.”
Hisfingerdriftsoverme.
Y.O.U.
Istealhishandandplaceitonmychest.Hispalmabsorbsthefranticthumpingofmyheart.Itbeatsforhim.
Heinchescloseruntilourbodiesareflush.Ikeephishandcaptiveagainstmybreastbone.Thelongerwelielikethis,themoremychestneedstoworktobreathe.
Hisbreathinginmyeargrowsheavier.
Mybodystartstostretchandseek,brushinghimwithashoulder.Aheeldraggeduphisshin.
Islidehishandlowersohispinkybrushesmynipple.Iexistinthespacebetweenbreaths,waitingforhimtomakethenextmove.
Herocksforward,pressinghisridgeagainstme.Anoffering.
Icravehisweight.Thesecurityofhimoverme,pressingmeintothemattressandholdingmecaptive.Theheavypromiseofhim,howhefillsme.I’vehadittwice.Inowexistwiththeknowledgeofhowhefeelsinsideofme.I’mhollowwithoutit.
Ididn’tknowthewaysinwhichIwasemptyuntilIknewhewasanoption.
Henuzzlesthespacebehindmyear.“Areyousore?”
Ishiftontomyback.“Letmetestit.”
Hemovesoverme,bracketingmewithhisarms.Itakehislengthinmypalmandteasemyselfatalltheplaceshistonguehasalreadyclaimedtonight.Abuzzingdesiregripsmybody,surgingthroughmycore.“Oh.”
“Goodohorbadoh?”Hiseyesareinfinitelytender,buthisvoiceholdsanedge.“Talktome.”
“It’smorethangood.”Icirclehimoverme,andit’spureelectricity.“Youaremorethangood.”
Hisjawclenchesashestaresdownthenarrowcavernbetweenourbodies.It’sunbearablehowmuchIwanthimtoslideinsideandclaimme.Icouldcombustfromtheeffortofnotanglingmyhipsandinvitinghimin.Mysenseshavedialedpastatenandhoveratatwenty.Ithinkifhekissedmeit’dincineratemylips.“Ineedyou.”
Hecupsmychin,histhumblandingonthepulseflutteringinmythroat.“Ineedyou,too.”It’stenderbuturgent,amomentthatlivesontheedge.
Assoonashe’ssheathed,hecrawlsovermeandlinesusup.Itstartsslow,easyrocksofhishipsashestretchesme.Hiseyesstayfixedonmine.ThedragofhimissogoodIwanttosavoritforhours.Wemovelikewehaveallthetimeintheworld.Iexplorethecurveofhisbicepsandhisglisteningpecswithmyfingertips,relishingthefreedomofthisposition.
Hispartedmouthandsmolderingstareareaworkofart.Helowerstohisforearmssothere’snogapbetweenourbodies.Hiskisspullsmeunder,under,underuntilhislipsfindahomebeneathmyear.Hegroansbrokenpraiseinmyear.Myskingrowsfevered,tight,mynipplesburningastheyrubagainsthischest.
Emotionrisestothesurface,burstingthroughwhateverflimsybarrierwasholdingthemback.“Ifeelsolucky.”
Heatbuildswherewe’rejoined.Hecradlesmyfacewithonehand.“Lookatme,Cass.”
Oureyeslock.Icryoutashehitsmejustright.“I’mtheluckyone,youhearme?AndIwon’tletyouforgetit.”
Hewedgesapillowbeneathme,bringingmyhipshigher.Allowinghimdeeperthananyonehaseverbeen.Iknowbyhisshaky,“Ohfuck,”we’llfinishjustlikethis.ThepressureashebottomsoutislikenothingI’veeverfelt.
Hisfingersworksmallcirclesoverme.Amoanleavesmymouthashemoveshisotherhandtomybreast,myass,everywherehecanstrokeandgrasp.Buteventhroughthiscrescendo,heneverspeedsuphisthrustsorthegentleassaultonmyclit,knowingintuitivelythatsteadyisthewayIneedit.Steady,likehim.
Isqueezetheheadboard,movingwithhimuntilsuddenlyit’sthere,areleasetakingshapeattheedges.Outside,Itense.
Inside,Ifall.
Itstealsmybreath.It’spleasuresointensemyentirebodyiscompromised,andIlosemygrip.Everythoughtescapesmyhead,eclipsedbywhite,hot,mindlessrelief.
Hefinishesasecondafter,withonehandclutchingmyhip,theotherburiedinmyhair.
Wecollapse.
Iwaitforhimtorollawaytocleanup,butinsteadheanglesmetowardhimandpressesakisstomyforehead,mycheek,mymouth,dustingmewithhot,stutteredbreaths.
Hisfirstinstinctwastokissmeafter.Likeeverythingelsecouldwait.
…
Wedozeofffortwohours.Lukewakesmewithanapologetickissandareminderthatmyfamilyiswaitingforme.
Thefive-hourdrivehomeisapillowtalkblur.Alltoofast,we’reathismom’shousetodrophimoff.
Lukegrabsmysweatypalmacrossthedash.
“Youbeingnervousismakingmenervous,”hesayswithastiltedlaugh.“Trustme,youhavenothingtoworryabout.”
“Iwantyourfamilytolikeme.”
Hekissesmyknuckles.“They’llloveyou.Letthisbetheleastofyourworries.”
Iblinktowardthehouse,framedbythebrightmorningsky.“Ha.Goodjoke.Iamonelargeworrymasqueradingasahuman.”
Thismeetingisbeyondimportant.Familyiseverythingtohim.Iftheydon’tlikeme,itcouldchangethewayLukeseesme.
I’mmeetinghisfamily
Laterthisweek,he’llmeetmine.
Myheartkicksanewrhythm.
“Ugh,myfamilyisgoingtoloveyou.Youareprettymuchmymother’sdream.”Ifeignafrown.“Theegoboostyou’reinfor.You’reabouttobesoinsufferable.”
“Myegoisalreadyprettybigafterlastnight.”Hebrushesmylipswithachastekiss.“Youturnedmynameintoacurseword.”
Ifollowhimupanunevenstonepathleadingtothefrontdoorofhisfamilyhome.Overgrownrosebushesnotinbloomwithertotheleftofthestoop.
“IneedtocleanthisupwhileI’mhere,”hemumbles.Hegrabsthehandle,andadeepfrowncarveshisface.“Huh.Locked.WishIhadmykey.”
“I’mguessingyouhaditinyourluggage?”
“Yes.I’llhavetogetanothermade.”Heknocksandtakesafewstepsback.“Someonewillanswer.Thishouseisneverempty.”
“Luke?Isthatyou?”
Lukedoesadoubletakeoverhisshoulder.“Mrs.Brothers.Goodmorning.”
Acrossthestreet,anelderlywomaninaterryclothrobeuseshernewspaperasasunshield.ShecrossestoLuke’sproperty,hobblinguphisyard.
Hemovestomeether,whichmeansImove,too,sinceourhandsarelinked.
“I’msogladyoudecidedtocome.Iknowit’llmeanalottoyourmother.What’sthelatest?”
Loudsprinklersoneyardoverflitinthebackground.
Luke’spalmgrowssweaty.“What?”
“Iguessit’sstillearlyyet.Sophiepromisedshe’dcallandupdateme.Areyouonyourwaydownthere?”
“Sorry,wheredoyoumean?”
Mrs.Brothersclutchesherpapertoherchest.“Today’sherprocedure,dear.AtSt.Vincent’s.”
“St.Vincent’s.”Hisbrowsknittogetherbeforeheschoolshisexpressionintosomethingneutral.“Ofcourse.”Lukereleasesmyhand,aflataffecttohistone.“Wewereheadingthatway.”
Irackmybrainforsomementionofaprocedureandcomeupshort.Hewould’vementioneditwhenwetalkedaboutourreasonsforgettinghome.
Unlesshedidn’tknow.Whichwouldexplaintheswiftchangeinhisdemeanor.
“Who’sthis?”Mrs.Brothersoffersmethekindofgrinthatmakesyoufeellikeyou’vedonesomethinggrandjustbyexisting.
“ThisisCassidy.”Luke’shandmovestomyback.“She’s…”Hisfarawaygazemeetsmine.“Important.Listen,we’reheadingout.It’sgoodtoseeyou,Mrs.B.Cass,youready?”
Inod,thewordimportanttuckingintomyheartasmyheadscramblestokeepupwithwhat’shappening.
Mrs.Brothersamblestowardherhouse.
“Ihavenoideawhat’sgoingon,”heblurts.“We—Ineedtogettothehospital.Not‘we’becauseit’snotsomethingyouneedtoworryaboutrightnowwitheverythingyou’vegotgoingon.Youcandropmeoff.”Herubshisforeheadwithanopenpalm.“Ifyouwouldn’tmind,Imean.”
Istepintohisshadowandtiltmychintogetabetterlookathisface.“I’mnotgoingtojustdropyouoff,Luke.Letmecomewithyou.Myfamilycanwaitalittlewhilelonger.”
“Areyousure?”Histoneisaguitarstringpulledtight.Acello.Somethingdeepandominous.Ifloatmyhandoverhisshoulder.“Ofcourse.Letmedrive.”
Hisnodistight.“I’lldrive.Iknowwherethisparticularhospitalislocated.It’sabiggerone.”Themusclesofhisthroatmoveasheswallows.“Aprocedure.Sophiewould’veknownaboutthisforweeks.Sheshould’vetoldme.”
“Youcancallheronthedrive.”
Inthecar,Irubthenapeofhisneckandkeeptheradiolowincasehewantstotalk.Hissisterdoesn’tanswerhiscall.Hedoesn’tsaymuchuntilwepassthroughthefrontdoorsofthehospital,wherewe’resmackedinthefacebyfrigidmanufacturedairandthesmellofindustrialcleaningsupplies.
Feetfromthesecuritydesk,hestopstopointacrossthelobby.“There’sanoutdoorgardeninthebackifyou’dratherwaittherewhileIdealwiththis.”
I’mnotgoingtobackawayandlethimgothroughthisalone.Itcouldbeminor.Somethinghisfamilyforgottotellhimbecauseit’ssoinconsequential.Nomatterthesituation,heneedssupport.“Luke.Iwanttobehereforyou.Thisiswhatpeopledoforeachother.Ifyouwanttobealone,ofcourseI’llhonorthat,butI’mhappytogowithyou.”
Iwindmyfingersthroughhis.Hesqueezesmyhand.“Thankyou.”
“Let’sfigureoutwhatfloorshe’sonfirst,okay?Onestepatatime.”
Hissmileisawisp,butit’sthere.“Smart.I’msureit’sjusttheoutpatientfloorifit’saprocedure.MaybeanannualcheckupIforgotabout?Whoknows?”
Butassoonaswestepuptothecounterandfindoutwherehismotheris,thewarmthinhiseyesallbutbleedsout.ChapterThirty-Two
Luke
Sophieissoengrossedinherlaptopshedoesn’tseeuscominguntilwe’retwofeetaway,staringatherfromtheothersideofaplastictablecoveredinfitnessmagazines.
“Luke?”ShesnapsherMacBookshutanddropsitonanemptyseatbesideherbeforescramblingtoherfeet.“How—”
“How’dIfindyou?”IreleaseCassidy’shandandshovebothofmineinmypockets.“PrettyeasyonceMrs.Brotherstoldmewhereyouwere.”
Shewincesandtriestocoveritbybrushingherdarkhairbehindherear.Westareateachotherforafewsecondsbeforeshegesturestotheseatsbesideher.
I’mnotallthatinterestedinsitting.“What‘sgoingon?Wherearethegirls?DidyouleavemeavoicemailaboutthisthatImissed?”
“Thegirlsareatschool,Luke.It’saweekday.”Sophie’sgazefloatstomyright.“Hello.”
Igesturewithmyhead.“ThisisCassidy.Cass,thisismysisterSophie.Keeperoffamilysecrets,apparently.”
Sophie’spolitesmileforCassmeltsoffherfaceassheturnstoglareatme.“Youreallywanttodothishere?”
“Wherebetterthantherecoverywing?”
Amanacrosstheroompeersupfromhisphoneatthevolumeofmyvoice.Ican’tseemtogiveashit.Mybloodhasbeenreplacedwithsimmeringlava.
Anentireemergencyprocedure,even,andnoonecaredtotellme.NeitherSophienorMomthoughtitnecessarytofillmein.It’sasifIhavenostakeinthisfamily.EvenMrs.Brothersknew,forchrissake.
Ishovedownasurgeofworry.Cass’sfingerslandonthebackofmyarm.Thegentletouchsoothesmeforasplitsecond,untilSophietalksagain.
“Mom’salreadyout!Nobiggie!”SophiefakeslightnessaboutaswellasIdo.Familytraits.“We’rewaitingforthedoctorstotellusmore.Youdon’thavetogetsoworkedup.”
“Whyisshehereinthefirstplace?”
“Mom’sliverscanafewweeksback…didn’tgowell.”Sophiehugsherchest.Herhairishalffallingoutofitsponytail,andthebagsbeneathhereyesarevisibleintheharshlightingoftheroom.She’sinscrubbottoms,eventhoughshe’snotworking.
Fuckifthatdoesn’tmakeitworse,theguiltevenmoreacidicinmythroat.NowI’mworriedandanassholeforbeingmadather.
“Theywantedtodoamorethoroughexploration.Theywereabletoschedulethisprocedurequickly,buttheywarnedtheywouldn’tbesureofthescopeofituntiltheygotinthere.Theyalsouh—”
HerwordsfallawayashergazedartstoCassidyandthentothefloor.
IturntoCassandcupherelbow.“Wouldyoumindwaitinghereforaminute?MysisterandIaregoingtostepintothehall.Ifthedoctorcomes…”Iswallowthickly.
Cassnods.“Ofcourse.I’llcomegetyourightaway.”
Thedoorseparatingthelobbyfromthehallshutsbehindmysister’sback.
IthoughttheCharlotteairportsmelledlikeahospital.Iwaswrong.I’dforgottenthesharpandunsettlingscentofthisplace.Andthesterilityandhardedges,dressedupinpinksandblues.
“Whatelse?”Ipress.
Sophieleansagainstthewallbesidethedoor.“Lastweekshehadalcoholpoisoning.Shehadtogetherstomachpumped.Itwasrough.Shesworeupanddownshedidn’tdrinkenoughtowarrantthat,andIwasn’twatchingherclosely—Avahadballet—andbythetimeIgothome…Anyway,wehadahugefightthenextday.Andafewfightssince.Ibarelyconvincedhertogothroughwiththeprocedure.”Sheblinksfast,butthere’snomoistureinhereyes.Justexhaustion.
She’sbeenherefightingwithMomwhileIwas—
Iswallowdownasurgeofbile.Iwashavingthebestnightofmylife,andSophiewashere,beggingMomtotakecareofherself.Mysisterisalwaysdoingthejoboftwopeople,butusuallyI’mnotgalivantingaroundwhileithappens.
Self-loathingovertakesme,alivingandbreathingmonsterpossessingmybody.
I’vebeenunforgivablyselfish.
“TheywantedtodoaCTtocheckherliverfunction.Itwassupposedtobeoutpatient,butthentheycalledmetocomeinandtalk.”Sheputsonhernursevoice.“Withdiabetes,theyalwayswantquickresultsonthesethings.Somanyvariablesatplay.Sothat’swhywe’rehere.”
Dreadsettlesinmygut.Returnstoitshomebase.Myvoiceishollow.“She’sbeendrinkingalot?”
“She’sbeenononeofherself-destructivebents.Doesn’twanttotakecareofherself.It’llpass.”
Mythoughtsareaviolentswirl.Ishould’vebeenheresooner.Ishouldalwaysbehere.
Shedrivesthetipofhersneakerintothelinoleum,adeepcreasewrinklingherforehead.“Idroppedtheball.I’vebeendistractedlately,pickingupextrashiftsbecauseIwasplanningtopayyoubackforthecruise,especiallysincewedidn’tevengettogo—”
Iyankhertomychest.She’sstiffandunyielding,untilshe’snot.“Soph,stop.Thattripwasagift.Youneverneedtopaymebackforanything.”
Herhugisweak.“Yousendtoomuchmoney.I’mfuckingupmysideoftheagreement.Lookwhathappened.Mom—”
“Thisisnotallonyou.”Ireleaseher.“I’vebeengoingaboutmyday-to-day,mostlyoblivious—”
“Luke—”
“—andallthewhilethingsareescalatinghere.ThisiswhatIgetfornotlivingclose.I’vealwaysknownitonsomelevel,butthisconfirmedit.I’mgoingtohavetomove.I’llfigurethatpieceoutlater.MaybeRogeliowillbereadytodiscuss…”Imassagemytemples.“Youneedabreak;you’reclearlystressedtocapacity.Damn,Soph,whydidn’tyoutellmeanyofthiswashappening?”
“BecauseIknewyou’dactlikethis!”Hershrillbarkmakesthehaironmyarmsstandup.“Makingdramaticplansbeforeweevenknowthefullscopeofwhat’shappening,insistingyouknowwhat’sbestforeveryone.IwantedtoknowwhatwearedealingwithbeforeIinvolvedyou.”
“That’snotyourcalltomake.We’resupposedtobeateam.”
“Yeah,you’rerightbecausethisissomuchbetter,youstormingthehospitalupinarms.Ineedyoutobemybrotherrightnow,notawhiteknight.Okay?”
Thedoorcracksopen,andCasssticksherheadout.“Thedoctor’slookingforyou.”
SophieandIjumptoaction,slidingpastCassaswerushintothelobby.SheslidesbackoutofthewaywhilemysisterandIapproachashort,oldermaninamask.
“We’rethefamily,”Isay.“ForMarcieCarlisle.”
Hisgreetingisno-nonsense.“CTshowswe’vetransitionedtocirrhosis,aswesuspected.I’msorryit’snotbetternews.”
Sophexhalesinaheavinggust.
“We’vegotheronIVmedsrightnowbecauseshecomplainedofextremenauseaduringtheprocedure.”
“Whatkindoftreatmentarewelookingat?Whatarethenextsteps?”Iask.
“Twothingsatplayhereintermsofherday-to-daylife.It’scrucialtokeephersugarcontrolled.Diabetesoftenexacerbatesotherconditions,thingswewanttoavoidoratleastdelayatallcosts.”HisgazeflitsfrommetoSophieandbackagain.“Andherfilesaysshewastreatedforalcoholpoisoningwithinthelastweek?”
“Yes.That’scorrect,”Sophieadmits
Theman’svoiceslows,settlesintoasympatheticcadence.“Listen,Iknowit’stough.I’llhaveyousitdownwiththeliverteaminfollowup,butyou’vegottoknowIcan’tgetheronatransplantlist,shoulditcometothat,ifshe’sanactivedrinker.Andevenifshe’snotonthelist,it’sdestructiveonthattissueandwillspeedupscarring.Stoppingdrinkingwillsignificantlyincreaseherchancesofprolongedwellness.”
“Transplant?”Iblurt.
“Ifit’snotcontrolled.That’swhyit’softheutmostimportancethatsheinstitutesthoselifestylechanges.”
Wecannosoonerstopourmotherfromdrinkingthanwecanperformthisdude’ssurgeries.
MyheadswirlswithalltheinformationI’veabsorbedinthelastthirtyminutes.
Lifestylechanges.Scarring.Prolongedwellness.
Alivertransplant.
Mypulsehammersinmythroat.Ican’tthinkaboutthosepieceswithoutgettingnauseous.I’llhavetocallherinsurancecompanyassoonasweleavehere,makesurethisCTisfullycovered.Seewhat’shappeningwiththebillsfromheremergencyvisitforthepoisoningThat’ssomethingIcanhandleeasily.Efficiently.
Atmyside,Sophieisstone-stillandpale.“Thisisalot.I’llhaveto…we’llhavetositdownandfigureitallout.”
Mybrainspinsandspins,awheelonanaxis.
Howmuchwouldweneedforahypotheticaltransplant?
Wehaven’tmetherdeductiblefortheyearorherout-of-pocket-max…
I’vegotmyannualbonusinJune.
Ismoneyreallygoingtomatterifshedoesn’tstopdrinking?
Sophnodstowardthedoor.“Canweseeher?”
“Yes.I’dliketotransferhertothegenfloorandkeepherforobservation,tomakesuresomeofthesesideeffects—shehadamigraine,too,complainedofsomeotherachesandpains—aren’tindicativeofsomethingelse.Butyes,ofcourse.”
SophiethrowsmeasoundsaboutrightlookMom’sdefaultstate,whenshe’snotdrinking,istocomplainaboutachesandpains.
“Anxietysometimeshasthateffect,”heofferscharitably.“Withprocedures.It’sprobablynothing.”
“Haveyoualreadytoldherallthesamethingsyoutoldus?”asksSophie.
Heliftsakeycardtoanautomaticscannerbesidethedoor.“We’llheadinandtalk.Together.”
…
It’slikeawholenewdoctortakesoverinsidetheroom.He’swarmandeffusiveatherbedside,chattingupMomlikethey’reoldpals.Herraspylaughfillsthetinyroomasanursedotesonher.
“I’lllevelwithyou,”Docsays,perchingonarollystoolandcrossinghisarms.“Youaren’tgoingtobeabletostayinsuchgreatshapeifyoudon’tmakesomechanges,Ms.Marcie.Weneedtogetyourbodyundercontrol.”
“Mybody.”SheskimsherIV-supportinghandacrossherprotrudingcollarbone.“Oh,Doc,youcan’tflirtwithmelikethatinfrontofmykids.They’llgetthewrongidea.”
Hewagsaglovedfinger.“Youaretrouble,younglady.”
“Younglady!I’moldenoughtobeyourdaughter,”shequips.Herfacefeignsdiscovery,innocence.“Oh,guessIprovedyourpoint,didn’tI?”
“Makemeadeal:you’llsitdownwithmyteaminyourpost-opappointmentandtalkaboutwaystocontrolyourcirrhosis.Notdrinkingisthebestandmostimportantway.Idon’twantyouinherewithamuchmoreseriousconversationinmonthsoryears.Wewanttokeepyouoffthetransplantlist.”
Mom’ssmileistight.“Anythingforyou,Doc.”
SophierollshereyessoonlyIcanseeandmouths,“Yeah,right.”
Afteraquickexchangeaboutmovinghertoanovernightroom,thestaffclears
Mybonesvibratewithanxiety.“Mom,how—”
“Luke,howniceofyoutostopby!”shesays,infusingeverywordwithtoomuchemphasis.“Haven’tseenyouinages.”
“It’sonlybeenafewmonths.”
“Could’vefooledme.Notevenahugforyourol’mother?”
Imoveacrosstheroomandsqueezeherbonyframeonce.Sofragile.Shecan’tbemorethanahundredpounds.Asurgeofprotectivenessrearsinmychest.“Didyouhearwhatthedoctorsaid?”
Shewavesherhand.“Oh,he’sjustgivingthelegalspiel.”
Sophiepushesoffthewallanduncrossesherarms.“It’snotalegalspiel.Whathewassayingissuperimportant.”
Mom’ssharpfeaturestakeonanevensharperedge.“Soph,thisisnotnewinformation.Weknewmyliverwasshit.”
“Ma—”
“Sophietoldmeabouttheincidentlastweek.”IstudythestubbornsetofMom’sjaw.“Thatkindofstuffcan’thappen.Andifyourownhealthisn’tenoughofareason,you’vegottwogranddaughterswholiveinthathouselookingatyouasanexample.Wecanhelpyou.Icanlookintoafacility—”
Shefixesherhawkishstareonme.“That’swhyyouflewallthewayhere?Foranintervention?”
“Notanintervention.Ididn’tevenknowthiswashappening.”
Sophiepacestowardthesink,grumblingabouthandhygiene.
“WhereisthesympathyforwhatI’mgoingthrough?”Momtriestositupinherbedandgroansinpain,clutchingherstomach.
Imovecloser.“Whathurts?”
“Thebetrayal,forone.Listen,kids.IappreciateyoucomingupherewithyourdelightfulideasabouthowIshouldlivemylife,butI’mjustnotdoingit.”
“IcangetyouonthelistatthefinestrecoveryfacilitiesinSouthernCalifornia.”
“WilleitherDwayne‘TheRock’JohnsonorJasonStathambeleadingthesessions?”
“What—”
“Becauseotherwise,Idon’twanttobeonanylist.Countmeout.”
Countmeout.Howmanytimeshavewecountedheroutgrowingup?Whenshedisappearedonawhimandfailedtobewhatweneededhertobe?
Andwehadtostepupeverytimeandcountourselvesin.
Isquaremyshoulders,fortifyingforbacklash.“Bereasonable,Mom.Wewanttohelpyou.We’renotjustgoingtostandbyandwatchyouwreckyourownlife.”
Evenmorethanyoualreadyhave,lefttoyourowndevices.
Mom’sgazecutstome.“We?You’retryingtoshipmeofftorehabandyou’retalkingaboutwe?”
“I’mnottryingtoshipyouoff.Thisisafamily.Yourdecisionsaffectotherpeople.EverythingSophiedoes,shedoesforyou,herkids,me.EverythingIdo,Idoforallofus.Andyou’retellingmeyouaren’twillingtotry—”
“I’veneveraskedyoukidstodoadamnthingforme.Never.Idon’twantyourhelp.I’mnobody’scharitycase.LetmelivemylifethewayIwantto.That’sallI’veeveraskedofyou.”
Theroomgoesredattheedges.“Ifwedon’thelp,thenwhat?Youwantustoletyoubehomeless?Youwantthehouserepossessed?”
“No!I’vewantedtosellthehousecountlesstimes,getmyselfanapartment,andgetoutofSophie’shair,buteversinceyouputyournameonthedeed,it’snotevenmineanymore.”
Herwordslashlikeawhip.“Youaskedforthat.Weagreed,asafamily,thatitmadethemostsensetotransferittomesoIcouldworkdirectlywiththebanktomakethepayments.Weagreed,asafamily,thatyou’dlivewithSophie.Anddoyourememberwhy?”
Shemuttersunderherbreath.
“Becauseyousaidyoudidn’ttrustyourself.AfteryouranoffwithDominicandheabandonedyouatthatmotelandyoualmostdrankyourselftodeath,yousaidyoudidn’twanttobeinchargeofanythinganymore.Ringabell?”
“Enough,Luke.”Sophiethrowsupherhands,hercrybouncingthroughthesterileroom.“We’renotgoingtogetanywheretalkingtoherlikethis.”
Aquietknockatthedoorstealsallourattention,stoppingthefightinitstracks.“Excuseme,MarcieCarlisle?I’mwithpatienttransport.”
MarcieCarlisle.
SometimesitfeelslikeI’mmourningawomanwhoisstillalive.Likemymotherisn’tmymotheranymore,justthisMarcieCarlislewomanmysisterandIcarefor,whoinreturncouldn’tcarelesswhatbecomesofher.Orofus.DespiteallthemoneyI’vethrownatthesituation,we’vegrownsofarapart.
I’mhitwithasurgeofgriefsopowerfulitalmostbringsmetomyknees.
Itwasn’talwaysthisway.
Weusedtobeclose.Nowshejustresentsme.
Momwasmyfuckingidol.Shewasthewomanwhoshoweduptomyclassroomtostuffpartyinvitesintomyclassmates’backpacksbecausesheknewIwastooshytodoitmyself.Tooterrifiednoonewouldcome.Shebleachedthekitchenuntilournosesburned,boughteverydecorationtheDollarTreehad,cookedpoundsofevery“salad”imaginable—potato,tuna,pasta,allofthem—sothepartywouldbeperfect.Iwasoverwhelmedbythenumberofkidsthatcame,butshewasthelifeoftheparty,leadinggamesandpumpingtheroomwithfun.Shefuckingthrived.Iwantedtobeeasyandcomfortableinacrowd,butsolongasIhadher,Ididn’thavetobe.Ididn’tneedadadanymore.Shewasenough.
It’dbeeasytochalkituptotheendofchildhood.Maybesheonlyeverwantedkids,notafamily,andnowthatwe’regrownshe’scontenttomoveonwithherlife.
ButIrefusetobelieveitcan’tbegoodagain,evenasthedarkandtwistedpartofmybraintellsme,Letitgo,shewantstobeleftalone,shedoesn’tcare.I’vebeenclingingtothehappymoments,howeverfewandfarbetween,becausetheyremindmethatthingscanbegood,albeitrarely.
MaybeIcan’tfullyfixherhealth—sheclearlydoesn’twantthat,andgettinghertotakecareofherselfwillcontinuetobeafight—butIcanfindawaytofixourfamily.IcanconvinceMomwe’reworthtakingcareofherselffor.Becausewe’retheonlyfamilywe’veallgot.
Ineedtogetbackhereandfightforit,becausepayingthebillsisn’tenough.
Ijustneedtomakeaplan.ChapterThirty-Three
Cassidy
IntheinterestofgivingLuketimewithhisfamily,Iscootoutsidetothehospital’sZengardentocallIsabelleandtellherI’llbethereintimeforthelunchMikael’sfamilyishosting.
Asusual,shedoesn’tanswer.Busybride.
ImoveontoBerkeley.
“Thereyouare.Youdidn’ttextmebacklastnight,”shesays,insteadofherusualquippygreetings.“Ithoughttherewasanotherproblem.WillsaidIwasoverreacting—”
“Will?YoutalkedtoWill?”
“WhatwasIsupposedtodo?Youdidn’tanswerthetexts!”
Ifliptothetextsandreadthem.“Oh,okay.Ididnotseethese.I’msorry,LukeandIdecidednottocomelastnightbecauseitwould’vebeenlikemidnightbythetimewemadeitin.”
“Soyoujustdecidednottocome?Wheredidyousleep?Ifiguredyouwould’vekilledeachotherbynow.”
Myskinheats.“WesleptinVegas.Well,westayedinVegas.Wehavealottocatchupon,Berk.Lukeis…important.”
“Important?Like,anundercovercelebrityorsomeshit?”
“No.He’simportanttome.Ithink…”Itakeafortifyingbreathasthebranchesofanorangetreeswayinthebreeze.“IknowI’mfallingforhim.Theshiphassailed.He’severythingIdidn’tknowIwasmissinginmylife.”
Silence.Deadsilence.
Asitstretcheson,Ithinkaboutwhetheritwaswisetotellhernow.Ishould’vewaiteduntilweweretogethersoIcouldgaugeherreaction.OrwaiteduntilshemetLukesoshecouldseewhatIsee.
Butwhenyouknow,youknow.AndIwanttotellhereverything.Iwanttotalkabouthimandinvitehimintotheotherareasofmylife.
Abottleofwinemighthavehelpedgreasethehingesofthisconversation,though.
Finally,finally,sheanswers.“Iverymuchlookforwardtohearingmoreaboutthis.I’msuperhappyforyou,Blossom.Butrightnow,wehavesomefishtofry.Yoursisterisstraightupnotgettingmarried.”
“What?Whatdoyoumeannotgettingmarried?Herweddingisinthreedays.”
“SoI’veheard.SinceIgothere,I’vebeenwatchingherslowlycrumplelikeausedgrocerybag.AndIswearshemovedimportantstuffintoyourmom’shouse.‘Livinghere’stuff.Soitwouldbequiteniceifyou’dkickyourcuteassintogearandmeetmeatthislunchwiththefamilyof—what’shisname?Swedishbodybuilder?”
“Mikael.Thegroom.Ishould’vemadeyoualisttomemorize.”
“Right.I’llbringyourdress.”
“Okay,I’mcoming.OfcourseI’mcoming.I’matthehospitalwithLuke’smom—unexpectedprocedureofsomekind—butIdon’tthinkheneedsme.He’swithhissisternow.I’llleaveassoonasIcheckinwithhim.”
Webideachotheraquickgoodbye.MystomachturnsoverasIpaceonemorelapoftheZengarden.
IfIcallIsabelleandstartprobingnowwhileshe’sgettingreadyforthisbigluncheon,it’lleitherpissherofformakehercry.
Weneedtohaveaconversationinperson.Longoverdue.
Aconversationwecould’vehadlastnightifIwentstraighthome,tothehouseIsabelleapparentlylivesinnow.
Ipinchthebridgeofmynose.Iknew,knew,Vegaswasaselfishmove.ButIcouldn’ttearmyselfawayfromLukelongenoughtoseethingsclearly.
Andnow,mysisterisspiralingfurther
Ihavetoseeher,figureoutwhat’sreallygoingon,andsupportherhoweversheneeds.
Butfirst,Ineedtopopupstairs,checkonLuke,andlethimknowI’mleaving.ChapterThirty-Four
Luke
I’mfirstoutthedoorandhalfwaytotheelevatorbeforeItakeabreath.
HowcouldIhavefuckedthingsupsobadly?
WhenIleftBakersfield,Iframeditasafavortomyfamily.TurnsoutI’mnobetterthanmyfather.Thereasonsmaybedifferent,buttheoutcomewasthesame.Twomenwhoweren’taround,lettingeveryoneelseplaycleanupintheirabsence.IfIwerehere,maybeIcould’vedonesomethingsooner.Sophiehasherownkidssheshouldbeworryingabout.Ishould’vemovedhomewhenherdeadbeatexlefther.
Allthesemen,abandoningtheirresponsibilities.Iwon’tbeoneofthem.
“Slowdown,”Sophcalls,joggingtocatchup.“Whereareyougoing?”
Idon’tanswer.Justjabtheelevatorbuttonwithaflatpalm.
“Comeon,Luke.She’sjustbeingstubborn.Ithinkshe’llcomearound.”
“Hopefullyso.Otherwiseit’llbealothardertogethertofollowthedoctor’sorders.”
“Leavethattome,”Sophieinsists.
Us,now.
“Luke?”Cassidy’svoicefloatsdownthehall,tentativeandsoft.Allthehardened,calcifiedfurythreatenstoexitmybodyandshatteronthegroundatthesoundofher.
Iwhiparoundtofaceher.Myarmsburntocircleherbody,holdheragainstmychest.
ButIcan’t.
HowselfishI’vebeen,thinkinganythingwouldbedifferentinmylife.It’sabouttogetfarworse.AndI’vedraggedherintothis.
NowIhavetodragherbackout.
Shewringsherhandsassheapproaches.“Areyouokay?”
“Yes.”Thewordishollow.Allwrong.“Fine.”
Sophie’seyesboreaholeinthesideofmyface.“Whydon’tyoutwoheadoutside?Getsomeair?”
“Idon’tneedair,”Isayquietly.“Ineedtobealone.Ihavecallstomake.”
Cassdigsthephoneoutfromherbackpack.“Ofcourse,here.We’lltalklater.Ineedtoheadout,anyway.Weddingstuff.Ifthere’sanythingelseIcandobeforeI—”
“I’lluseSophie’sphone.”Ishiftawayfromher.AllI’vedoneisignorethethingsI’msupposedtobetakingcareof,throwingmyfamilytothewolveswhileIhadthetimeofmylife.GettingcompletelywrappedupintheimpossibletemptationofanormallifewithCassidy.
WhatdidIthinkwasgoingtohappenanyway?ThatmyfamilyissueswoulddropawaybecauseIfeltthetemptationtomakesomethingelseapriority?
No.Shedoesn’tneedtoseethisshitupcloseandpersonal.AndasmuchasIwanttodrawherintomyarmsandsoakupherwarmthandlightlikeagoddamnthirstyplant,Ican’t.Whenshekissedmeback,shedidn’tknowwhatshewassigningupfor.
Ineedtomovehome.Asin,now.Withinthemonthatthelatest.I’llbustmyasstoshowRogelioI’mreadytoleadthefirm’sWestCoastexpansionandthenkeeprightonbustingmyasstoprovehemadetherightchoiceonceI’mhere.Round-the-clockworkwithevenhighermanagementstakes,justonadifferentcoast.AndwhenI’mnotworking,I’llbewiththefamily.
I’lldoitforSophie,formymother,andformynieces,whodon’tdeservetogrowupinanunstablehouse.
“I’mgoingtogiveyoutwoaminute.”Sophiethrowsmeonelastinscrutablelookbeforedisappearingtothewaitingroom.
“Youshouldprobablygo,Cassidy.”Iavoidhereyeevenasshetriestocatchit.
“You’renotokay.WhatcanIdo?”Cassidyclosesthedistancebetweenus,achinglybeautifulinherconcern.Mychestsplintersasshewrapsherarmsaroundmywaist.“Letmehelp.”
“Youcan’t.”ThewordssoundashopelessasIfeel.“There’snothingyoucando.”
Shesqueezestighter,andfuckit,Iclosemyarmsaroundherandtake.Ibreatheherinandletthesweetnessofherscentstingmylungs.Onelasttime.
“I’msorry,”Imurmurintoherhair.
Shepullsbackandsearchesmyface.“Forwhat?”
Wheretoevenbegin?ApologizefortellingherI’lltrywhenIdon’tknowhowtobeenoughforherandeveryoneelseallatthesametime.Fornotbeingthemansheneedsanddeserveswhilemyattentionandtimeisalreadyspokenfor.Forturningouttobenobetterthanthestringofmenwhohaveleftmyfamilybehind,andhereIam,abouttoleaveherbehind,too.
“Whyareyouapologizing?”Sheseversourphysicalconnection,leavingmecold.“Whataren’tyousaying?”
“Ican’ttalkaboutthisrightnow.I’mnotsureIcandothis.”Ishakemyhead.“You’vegottogo.”
“Can’tdothis?Asin…us?”
Isaynothing.
Hergazesoftens.“Listen,Iunderstandyou’vegotalotgoingon.”
Emotionsinksinmybody,loweringmetoaplaceIdon’twanttogo.NotwhileI’mstillinherpresenceandsusceptibletoherarrestinggaze.It’senoughtomakemewanttotakeitallbackbeforeit’sevenoutofmymouth.“No,youdon’tunderstand.AndIdon’twantyouto.Thesearemyproblems.It’smylife.Itoldyouthingswerecomplicated.IwarnedyouthatI’vegotalotIhavetodealwith.Well,thatjustmultipliedtenfold.”
Herfaceflashespurepain.“Oh.Okay,I’msorry.Ishouldn’thavepushedyourboundaries.”
Igripmyfaceanddragmyhanddownmymouth.She’ssorry.Thisperfect,sweetwomanislookingatmelikeshedidsomethingwrong
Iletthisgetsooutofcontrol.
“Don’tapologize.”Istepintoherbubble,andsheshrinks.“ThelastthingIwantisforyoutobesorry.Ortoregretanything.Ikissedyoufirst.Iwantedeverylastbitofthis.”
“Wanted.Pasttense.”Shepressesthecallbuttonontheelevator.“Igetit.Cleanbreak.It’seasier.”
Herfrantictoneclawsatmyheart.“Yes.I’mtryingtomakeiteasierbysavingyoufromawholelotofshitIpromiseyoudon’twanttodealwith.”
Shejabsthebuttonanotherfourtimes.“Igetit.I’llgetoutofyourway.”
Thiscouldnotpossiblybegoingworse.“It’snotyou,Cassidy.Ifthingsweredifferent…”IcurseundermybreathtostopmyselffrommakinganotherpromiseIcan’tkeep.“Pleasedon’twalkawayupset.Thiswasthebestfuckingweekofmylife,allright?JustbecauseIcan’tgiveyouwhatyouwant—”
“YouneveraskedwhatIwant!”Hergazecatchesmine,andmyownmiseryisreflectedintheirdepths.“YouhavenoideawhatIwant.OrwhatI’mwillingtodotogetit.Youdecidedforbothofuswithoutsomuchasaconversation.Butitdoesn’tmatternow.Idon’twanttobeonemorethingonyourplate.Goodluck,Luke.Truly.Ihopeyourmom’sokay.”
Theelevatordoorslidesopen,andshestepsinside.Everycellinmybodyscreamsatmetocatchherbythewaistandreelherin.Burymyfaceinherhairandholdherhere.
But,fuck,shedeservesmorethanthis.Becauselifewithmewouldcomewithcaveats,exceptions,acertainkindofdarknessthatwilldullherlight.It’dcomewithtwothousandmilesofdistance,apologiesonthephonewhenIhavetocanceltripsorcalls,andcomplicationsIcan’trunawayfrom.
Westareateachotherforthreeexcruciatingsecondsasthedoorslidesclosedbetweenus.Visionsofeverythingwe’llneverhaveflickerandfadebeforemyeyes.
It’sinCassidy’sbestinterestnottowasteanymoretimeontheideaofus
Theelevatordoorcloseswithafinal-soundingclunk
Evenasitdestroysmetowatchherwalkaway.ChapterThirty-Five
Cassidy
Ican’tgetoutofthishospitalfastenough.
ItwaslikeagaragedoorshutbetweenmeandLukethesecondwereachedthehospital.Theechoesricochetedoffthewalls,andIwasleftontheoutside.
Ithoughtwhenwedecidedtotryitmeantheunderstoodhedidn’thavetochoosebetweenfamilyoralife.ThatIcouldbepartofthatlife,evenifwehadtogetcreativetomakeitwork.That’ssomethingIthoughtwe’dbroachtogether.
Butthereisnotogether.Hedecidedweweren’tworththeeffort—Iwasn’tworthit—beforetherelationshipcouldevenbegin.
HeheldmeinhisarmsinVegas,kissedmeunderthestarsinMoab,tookcareofmeinKansasCity.Igavehimallofme.
Iwasn’tenough.
ThecloserIgettothecar—ourcar,itfeelslike—themoremyfeelingscareenoutofcontrol.
“Cass!”
Iclutchmychest,stutteringtoastopinthemiddleoftheparkinglot.
Hefollowed.Heactuallyfollowed
Igripthecollarofmyshirtashopeballoonsinsideofme.
Wecanfixthis,afterthingssettledown.
Heoverreacted.He’sreadytoletmebethereinwhateverwayheneedsandshowhimwecanmakethiswork,together.
Iwheelaroundashejogstowardme.Thegapbetweenusshrinksandmyheartrateexplodes.
He’llkissmeandI’llforget.
Wealldealwithfamilytraumaindifferentways.Healthnewsisparticularlycrushingandmakespeopleact—
“Youforgotthis.”Hefishesakeyfromhispocket.
Theanvilthatdropsbetweenusjoltsmefromthesolesofmyfeettothetopofmyhead.
Oh.
Ofcourse.Thekey.
Ireachatremblinghandforward.HowmanytimesinmylifeamIgoingtoletmyselfsuffocateatthehandsofhope?
“SorryIforgottogiveittoyouinside,”hemutters,notmeetingmyeyeasheclutchesthebackofhisneck.
Ofallthethingsforhimtobesorryabout,forgettingtogivemethekeyrankslow.
Intheabsenceofthatdangerousswellofpossibility,myvoicehasnothingbehindit.Nopowerleft.It’sbarelymorethanbreath.“Noproblem.”
Eyesglassy,Luketakesastepback.
“Bye,”Ichirp,unnaturallybright.AnythingtogethimtoleavesoIcanfallapartinpeace.Alone.
“Areyougoingtobeokay?”heasksquietly.
Wordsrushmythroat,toomanyofthematonce.Hot,denseCaliforniaairradiatesoffthesidewalk.
No,I’mnot.
Andmoretothepoint,Ihatethatyouevenasked.
BecausesowhatifI’mfallingapart?Itdoesn’tchangeanything.It’snotgoingtomagicallymakehimwantthis.Itdoesn’terasethememoriesthatwillhauntmeofthedayswespenttogether.I’mnevergoingtobegsomeonetoletmein,orneedme,orevenwantme.I’vespentmywholelifetryingtoearnloveandaffectionandvoweditwouldstopthedayImovedtoNorthCarolina.Ican’tbegthismantocareenoughtoputinthework.Iwon’tletmyselfsinktothatlevelagain.
I’mbetteroffalonethanwithsomeonewhogivesuponusthesecondthingsgettough.Heclearlydoesn’ttrustmetobewhatheneeds.
“Yep.”Ishuffletowardthedriver’sdoorandsnatchthehandle.Mynailcracksinhalfandayelpcatchesinmythroat.“Allgood.”
Idon’tknowhowIgetthekeyintheignitionorhowImanagetobeginthedrive.Intherearview,heshrinksuntilhedisappearsasIpulloutofthelot.IreplaythatimageinmyheadonaloopasIdrivethehourtoWestlakeastearscloudmyvision.Helookedcrushedbutstilldidnothingtostopme.
Wehadsomething.Andnowwehavenothing.
L.A.trafficrequiressomuchattentionandconcentration,Ican’tindulgethesobstrappedinmychest,becausethenIcan’tseethecarstryingtorunmeofftheroad.
It’dbesomucheasiertobemad.
InavigatetoTheFoundry,wherethelunchstartedtenminutesago.Atleastthedreadofwalkinginlate,tear-stainedandravagedwithabrokennail,replacesthoughtsofLukeinthisverydriver’sseat,runninghisbighandsoverthewheelandshootingmelooks.SomeofthoseheprobablythoughtIdidn’tnotice,butIcollectedthemall
Icollectedhislooksasiftheyweresouvenirs.Hisattentionwascurrency,andwithoutit,I’mbroke.
…
ItextBerkeleytomeetmeintherestaurant’sbathroom.
She’sleaningagainstthewallwhenIallbutlimpin,myeyesstingingfromallthelosttears.Herdressisanelectricbluewithacorsettopthatdoeshereveryfavorintheworld.
“Holyshitballs,Blossom.Didyoufuckyourmaninhighhumidity?Yourfaceissored,andyourhair—”
Hervoicefallsawaywhenmylipstartstoquiver.ImovetowardherlikeI’mwadingthroughanoceancurrent.
AndthenIfallintoherarms.
“Whoa.”Herarmstightenaroundme.“What’swrong?”
Vinesofwarmthwraparoundmyjiltedheart.Herbouncycurlssmelllikethegelfromthepinkjarshealwaysleavesopenonhersink.Shesmellslikehome.
“Areyoucrying?”Shestepsbackandtakesmyshouldersinherhands.
“Absolutelynot,”Ihuff,swipingmywetcheek.
“Good,becauseyouhaven’tevenseenyourmotheryet.Protectyourreserves.What’swrong?Tellmeeverything.”
“Luke.”Thenamelodgesinmythroat.Itrytoswallowaroundit.
Iclosemyeyeslongenoughtotemperanyemotionbeforeitspillsout.Ican’tfallapart.Nottoday.
“Oh.”Hervoicefloatsintheairbetweenus,andthenIfeelherarmsagain.“Oh,Cass.Hebrokeyou.”
Itellhereverything.Howhewasslowtoopenup,butwhenhefinallydid,headmittedhehadacomplicatedfamilylife.Howwedecidedthefeelingswehadwereworththeeffortoffiguringouthowtobetogether.
Andthen,falsealarm,itwasn’tworththeeffort.Becausehepushedmeawaytheinstantthingsgottough.
Steamispracticallycomingoutofherears.“Men.They’lluseyouandspityououteverytimeandthenactliketheydidyouafavor.”
Mystomachriotsatthis,eventhoughshe’stryingtodefendme.“It’snotthat.Idon’tfeelused.”
“Whynot?Iwould.”
“BecauseIknowit’sreal.Iknowit,Berkeley.Whatweexperienced…”Thesentenceistoohardtofinish,thepaininmychesttoopotent,soIshakemyheadandtryanotherone.“It’sthathetookawaymychoicetodecidewhatIwantedtodo.Iknewwe’dhavestruggles.Wedon’tliveinthesametown,forone,andthat’sjustoneofmanycomplications.Buthejustmadethedecisionforme.That’swhathurts.Hedidn’tthinkofmeashisequalorrespectmeenoughtotalkitout.Just,poof,hisdecision.”
IunzipthegarmentbagandbegintochangeinthemiddleofthismassivebathroomasBerkeleystaresaholethroughme,donningherbest“bitingmytongue”face.
“Letthemwalkin,”Isay,unbotheredasIshimmyintoablushpinkcocktaildress.“Oh,thisisatightfit.It’sgoingtobetitsout.Whyfreethenipplewhenyoucanfreetheentireboob—”
“Cassidy.”
Ipeerup.
“You’redefendinghim.Evennow,evenwhenhe’shurtyou,you’restilldefendinghim.”
Silencefallsbetweenus,andtheonlynoiseisthefainthumofhousemusic.
She’sright.
I’mdefendingLukebecausehedeservesit.Becausenomatterwhatwe’vebeenthrough,hisintentionsaregood,eventhoughtheyexcludeme.I’mnotevenafactorinhislife,andthatfuckinghurts.Iwouldgiveanythingforsomeonetolovemeasmuchashelovesthem,choosemethewayhe’schoosinghisfamily.Tobethemostimportantthingtosomeonethatthey’dmovemountainsandupendtheirlifetobethereforme.
“He’sagoodguy.Hewantstobethereforhisfamily.That’swhatmakesthisworse.Hethinkshecan’tgivemewhatIwantandstilltakecareofthem,whichisridiculousbecausewhatdoIevenwantthat’ssohardtogive?Iwasn’taskingforawhitepicketfenceorforhimtorunawaywithmeandleavehisobligationsbehind.Iwanttobeinthistogetherandhelphim.”Myvoicecracks.“Fuck,Ijustwanthim.Andtobeenoughforhim.”
Berkeley’smouthsoftensattheedges.“Comehere.”Shereelsmebackinandholdsmybrokenpiecestogether.“Toughlovetime:ifhewantedtobewithyou,hewould.Iknowitsuckstohear—believeme—butit’sthetruth.Buthischoicehasnothingtodowithwhetheryouareenough.Youonlyhavetobeenoughforyourself.”
Theknifeinmychesttwists.
Ifhewantedustobetogether,wewould.
Hemadeadecision,anditwasthathedidn’twantmysupport.Allofthishasalwaysbeencompletelyandtotallyonhisterms.Outofmyhands.
“Iknowit’shard.God,doIknow.”Hervoiceholdsanun-Berkeleyishwobble,likehertough-girlfacadeslippedjustlongenoughtoletherownpainescape.“IwishIcouldlieandsayyou’llforgethiminnotime.Butyou’regoingtobejustfine.You’rethestrongest,kindest,mosthilariouswomanIknow.Youdon’tneedhim.”
“Idon’tneedhim.Iwanthim.”
Thewordshurtonthewayout,butIcan’thavemyalreadyjaded,cynicalbestfriendswearingoffloveforeverbecauseofme.
“ThisiswhyI’mhappybeingsingleforever.AndIencourageyoutojoinme.”Shewagsafingerupanddownatmybody.“Wouldn’tyouratherspareyourselfthissuffering?”
Andnothaveknownhimatall?I’dtakethispainanyday.
“Screwthatguywholuredyouinonlytobreakyourheartintheend.Wedon’tgetleft.Wedotheleaving.”
“It’smyfaultforfallinginloveinthefirstplace.”
Oh.Myhandfliestomychest,andIleanagainstthewall.
Berkeley’smouthfreezesinanopenO.HereyesarewiderthanI’veeverseen.“Love?”
Thebathroomdooropensoncreakyhinges.
Isabellestepsinsidethebathroominapink,floor-lengthdressthatflaresathercalflikeabell,revealingtwosilverManoloBlahniks.FancywithacapitalF.Herbeautifulfacemorphslikeshesawtheghostofapersonsheoncebegrudged.“Cass?Ohmygod?”
Weblinkateachotherafewsecondsbeforeshesighs.Weeachtakeoursteps,meetinginthemiddle.Herhugishard,diamondsandsharpedges.“Ididn’tevenknowyoumadeittotown.”
Iswallowdownanotherwaveofemotion.IthinkI’vecomeunglued.“Youlookgorgeous,futureMrs.Berg.”
ShereleasesmeandshootsaninterrogativelookBerkeley’sway.
“Lovingthiswallpaper,”Berkeleychirps,tuggingaloosespiralcurlnearherear.Itsnapsbackintoplace.“Andthatlightaroundthemirror?Looksliketheinsideofaswankyboutiqueinhere,no?”
Mysensorsforsisterlysecretsandbest-frienderlyevasiongooffinunison.“What’sgoingon?WhathaveImissed?”
Isabelle’sdeepblueeyesflittowardtheceiling.“Shetoldyou,didn’tshe?”
Berkeleyemitsthesoundofadeflatingbeachball.
“Toldmewhat?”
Berkeleycrossesherarms.“Ididn’ttellherbecauseI’mnotentirelysurewhat’shappening.”
Isabelle’sheelsclickonthetravertineasshestrutstowardthemirror.“Whatever.Would’vetoldyoumyselfifyou’dbeenhere.”
Iwince.“Isabelle,I’msosorry—”
“It’sfine.Youtwocansparemetheintervention.I’vemadeupmymind.AndI’mtotally,completelyatpeacewithmydecision.Theweddingisoff.”
“Ithinkmyheadisfuzzy.Whatdidyoujustsay?”
Isabelleshrugsasculptedshoulder.“I’mnotdoingit.Idon’tknowwhyIeverthoughtmarriagewasagoodidea.”
WheelingonBerkeley,Iquestionherwithagap-mouthedstare.
“Ididn’tdoit!”Berkeleyliftsherhands.“Thisisnotmyinfluence.”
IcrowdIsabelleuntilwe’residebyside,staringintothesamemirror.ThewayIcrowdedherasateenager,watchingherslatherherfaceinDiorcosmeticsbydayandLaMerbynight.“Isabelle.Youcan’tseriouslybeconsideringthis.”
Shefisheslipstickoutofherclutch.“Withallduerespect,youhavenoideawhatI’vebeengoingthrough.”
“Sotellme!Helpmeunderstand.Thisisthemostimportantdayofyourlife,andyou’vebeenlookingforwardtoitsinceyouwereaninfant.”
CirclingatubeofCharlotteTilburyMattearoundherpoutylipsthreetimes,shebarelyenunciatesherwords.“Meh.Idon’tcareanymore.”
Shegoesforafourthpass,andthetubefallsoffherbottomlip,smearingthecornerofhermouth.
“I’vewatchedyouputonlipstickformostofthelasttwenty-sixyears.Youareruthlesslyprecisewithyourthree-passlipcoverage.Youarenotokay.Talktome.”Istepcloserandfinger-brushherplatinumbob.“WhathappenedwithyouandMikael?Didyoutwohaveafight?”
“Nofight.That’stheproblem.”Hertonecracks.Sheblotsherlips.“Wehaven’tfoughtinmonths.”
“Andthat’sabadthing?”
“Weusedtohavethatfire.Whoevenareweifwearen’tfighting?It’slikehedoesn’tevencare.”
Alaughslipsthroughmylips.“I’dargueyouhadtoomuchfire.”
Hereyesmeetmineinthemirror.“He’ssobusy.Allthetime.Ispendmostofmydayslatelythinkinghe’slostinterestuntilhecomeshomeatthreea.m.,rollsmeover,andsticksitin.”
“Lovethatforyou,”Berkeleyoffers,liftingherphoneinanair-cheer.“Skiprighttothegoodstuff.”
Isilencemyfriendwithaquellinglook.“YouknowMikaelisbusywithwork.He’schasinghisdreams,justlikeyou’rechasingyours.That’swhatmakesyoutwosuchagoodmatch.Firecomesandgoes,butwhatyoureallyneedissomeonewhosupportsyounomatterwhatyoudo.Someonewhoissecurewhenit’syourturntoworkuntilthreea.m.,who’swaitingforyouwhenyougethome.Maybehalfasleep,butalwaysdown-to-clown.”
“Whatifwegetmarriedandeverythingfallsapart?”shewhisperstoherownreflection.“Whatifwefail?”
“Anythingcanfail.”Myheadfallsagainsthershoulder.“Iknowthatmightbehardforyoutounderstand,sinceyou’veneverfailedatanything.Butisn’titworthtrying?Isn’tMikaelworththerisk?”
ThoughtsofLukepressagainstmyresistance.
It’snotthetimetomournallthethingswedidn’tgetto.Myhandmovestomystomachasiftotrytoholdmyselftogether.ThoughtsofLukewilllevelmewhenI’mtryingveryhardtopreachthegospeloflove.
Isabelle’slipsliftinahalf-heartedsmile,devoidofherusualsparkle.“Mikaelisworthit.Butthatdoesn’tmeanwehavetosubscribetotheideaofmarriage.I’mgoingtobethirtyinthreemonths.Ifeelthepressuretolegitimizeourrelationshipbecausewhowouldn’t?Thatdoesn’tmeanwehavetodoit.Marriageisirreversible.”Shegripstheedgeofthemarblecounter.“MikaelandIcould’vekeptdating,butnowit’slikewe’vewalkedtotheendofacliffandit’seitherjumporgetshoved.Hell,he’sprobablyhavingdoubts,too.Thatwouldexplainhisdistantbehavior.”
“He’snothavingdoubts.He’sworking,likeyousaid.”
“Imovedouthalfmystuffandhedidn’tevennotice!”Shesucksinabreath,likeshecan’tbelievesheadmitteditoutloud.“Itwasatesttoseeifhe’dnoticeorcare,andhefailedmiserably.Prettytellingthatweshouldn’tbedoingthis,don’tyouthink?”
“Nooneisgoingtoshoveyoudowntheaisle,Bells.We’reheretosupportyou.Butifyoudodecidenottogothroughwithit,youoweittoMikaeltotalktohimassoonasyouknow.Thisisgoingtoblindsidehim.”
“Youreallyareputtingalotofstockinhimgivingashitwhetherornotthisweddinghappens,”shemutters.“Maybeheneedsthiskickintheass.”
Myvoicegainssteam.“I’mnotsureIbelievethat.ThemandonstheT-shirtfromyourengagementshootwithyournamesonitaseverydaywear.Unironically.Heworethat‘Isabelle&Mikael’shirttothedamnDMVlasttimeIwasintown.Tobars.Asifthatisanormalandreasonablethingforalawyertodo.Hehasyourinitialstattooedonhisbicep.Hewroteafive-pagelettertoourmotherexplaininghisintentionsregardingyouafterthefourthdate.”
Isabelleblinks.“Maybehelovesme.Butmarriage?”
Thequestionhangsintheair.
Iswipemysister’spurseandlocatehermascara.“Iwantyoutodosomethingforme,Isabelle.”
Shearchesaperfectlymicrobladedbrow
“TellmeeverythingyouhateaboutMikael.”
“What?”
“Humorme.Whatdon’tyouloveabouttheguy?”
Hercheeksbowoutlikeshe’strappedabubble,andsheslowlyletsouttheair.“Well.He’sbusy.Justconstantlydistractedwithwork.”
“Fair.Andwhenhe’sbusy,you…”
Shechewsherlipforasecond.“Imisshim.I’mlonelywhenhe’snotaround.”Hereyesnarrow.“Isthisyourplan?MakemeadmitIlikemyfiancé?”
Iswipethemascaraovermylashes.“Nope.Iwanttoknowwhatelseyouhate.”
Sheturnstofaceme.“Ihatethewayheeatsribs.Andtacos.Iwanttopunchhiminthejaweverytimewesitacrossfromeachotheratafancyrestaurant.”
“Extremelyreasonable.I’vesharedmanyamealwithyoutwo.Heisamenacewithanyandallmeats.”
Herlaughsparksmine,andsoonwe’rebothbustingagut.
“Whatelse?”Ipress,pokinghercalfwiththepointytoeofmyheels.“What’sgotyouquestioningwhetherthisfour-hundred-thousand-dollarweddingisworthblowingoffbesidesthewaythemaneats?”
“Don’tdiminishwhatI’mgoingthrough,Cass.It’sreal.I’mfreakingout.”
“I’msorry.That’snotmyintention.Iwantyoutounderstandthegravityofwhatyou’resaying,that’sall.There’sgottobesomethingI’mmissing,becausefromwhereI’msitting,you’reabouttowalkawayfromsomethingyou’vewantedsincewewereoldenoughtodate:amanwithhisowngoalswhofiercelyencouragesyoutochaseyourown.You’vealwayssaidMikaelistheperfectotherhalfforapowercouple.”
Berkeleywormsherwaybetweenmeandthewall,stealingthemascarafrommyhand.
Weshifttoaccommodateher,andallthreeofusprimptogether.Inthemirror,I’mbracketedbythetwosidesofmyheart.Vastlydifferentandinfinitelywonderful.
“I’veseenthatdudeinaction,”Berkeleyoffers.“Whenhecametoseeyouatmidnightafteryousaidyouweren’tgoinghomelastnight?Drovehisbuffassoverforagood-nightkiss?Thenheofferedtosleeponthecouchtobetherewhenyouwokeup,outofrespectforitbeingyourmother’shouse.Warmsmycoldsoul.”
AffectioniswrittenalloverIsabelle’sfaceandetchedinhereyes.Sheblinksfasttoshutterit.“Maybeourloveisstrong.Butloveisn’talwaysenough,isit?Forreferences,seeFrancescaBlissandPhilDuncan.Thatdivorcewasugly.Whataboutthelongterm?Whatifourlivesdon’tfittogether?”
“CorrectmeifI’mwrong,butwhenyoumarrysomeone,youmakeanewlife.”
“Excepthisfamilyisstillextremelypretentious,MomisstillMom,andourjobsarestillourjobs.Wecan’tescapethem.Noteveryonegetstorunawayandstartanewlifeonawhim,Cass.”
Theresentmentlacinghertoneisasurprisesting,abeehidinginabushthatcomesoutofnowhere.“Itwasn’tawhim.Ijustneededsomethingnew.Ineverwould’veguessedyouevennoticed.”
“MysistermovedasfarawayasshecouldgetinthecontinentalU.S.YoureallythoughtIdidn’tnotice?”
Aconfusingrushofadorationandregretshimmiesthroughme.WhenyouputsomeoneonapedestalashighastheoneIkeepIsabelleon,it’simpossibletoimaginetheycanseeyoufromthestaggeringheight.“Bells—”
“Mypointis,MomclaimsshelovesMikael,butIthinkshelovestheideaofhimmore.Itshouldn’tbotherme,butI’malwayswaitingwithbatedbreathwhenwe’realltogetherforhimtodoorsaysomethingthatwillknockhimoutoffavor.Becauseonceshedoesn’tlikesomething,itmakesitimpossibleforeveryoneelse.Andifshehateshim,Randwillhatehim.It’llmakemylifesomuchharder.”Sherubshertemplesandcloseshereyes.“IhatethatIeventhinkaboutstufflikethis,butit’sjustreality.”
“Youhatethatyouwantherapprovalofyourfuturehusband?”Iask,matchinghernearwhisper.
“IhatethatIwantherapprovalofeverything.”
“That’sasurprisetome,”Iadmit.“Thatyou’devenhavetothinkaboutit.”
“It’sbeenhardwithoutyouhere.Mom’sentirefocusisonme.Always.Ihavetoperform.That’salwaysbeentrue,butlatelythepressureiscrushingbecausethere’snowhereelseforthatattentiontogo.Andwhenit’ssomethingIcan’treallycontrol—Mikael,thestuffthatcomesoutofhismouth—Ifeelthepressureinadifferentway.Notbeingincontrolsucks.”
“Herfocusmaybeonyou,butit’snotlikesheeverfindsfaultinwhatshesees,”Ipointout.“I’msurethatextendstoMikael.”
“What?Areyoudrunk?”
“Iwish.”
“Ofcourseshefindsfault.EverythingIdoisadaylateandadollarshort.Shecomplimentsanachievementandtriestolevelitupinthenextbreath.‘I’msoproudofyourMBA,Isabelle.You’llbeCEOinnotimeifyoustaydisciplined.You’resosweettocheckonmenowthatI’msick.Maybesomedayyou’llstopbybecauseyouwantto,notbecauseyouhaveto.’Idon’tthinkthephrase‘goodenough’existsinherlexicon.Andmypersonalfavorite,‘WhatkindofexampleareyousettingforCassidy?’whenIveertoofaroffthecourseshe’sprescribedforme.Asifyoucareaboutanyofthis.You’velongsinceforgedyourownpath,andI’msofuckingjealousofyouforthat.”
Myjawisonthetravertine.
Ihavenoideawhattodowiththisinformation.Itdoesn’tcomputewiththeneatparadigmwe’vealwaysexistedin.Isabelle:effortlessperfection.Me:neverenough.Nowit’stintedinadifferentshade.
Isabelle:tryingreallyfuckinghard.Me:alsotryingreallyfuckinghard.
Whatifwe’vebothbeenplayingthesamegameallalongbutneverknewtotageachotherin?Heck,wecould’vegottenred-cardedandleftthefieldtogether.
“IwishIcouldrelateinanywaytofeelingMom’sscrutiny.”Mytonetakesaturnfortheserious.“Isobadlywantedtobelikeyou.Myentirelife.Itneveroccurredtomethatyouwereanythingotherthanhappy.Proud.ThrilledtobeIsabelleBliss,humanperfection.”
Herlong,charcoallashesflutter.“I’msosorry,Cass.IguessIneverunderstooduntilyoumovedjusthowharditmust’vebeenonyou.IfyoufeltevenafractionofwhatI’vebeenfeeling,theselastfewmonthsespecially…”Shemimesherheadexploding.“I’mlikeoneofthoseants,andshe’sakidwithamagnifyingglassandthesun.Andplanningaweddingwithherbreathingdownmyneck?Zerooutoffivestars.Donotrecommendit.”
“Icanconfirmthemagnifyingglassthing,”Berkeleyoffers.“I’veneverseenawomanhoverasmuchasFrancesca.IfIsabelleisinthekitchen,soisshe.Inthelivingroom?It’ssittingtimeforol’Fran.Oh,isIsabelleonthelanai?There’syourmom,pouringcocktailsandmakingitanevent.”
“Isitpossible,”Isay,hesitationslowingmydelivery,“thatthisfearofgoingthroughwiththeweddingislessaboutMikaelandmoreabouttheweddingitself?Likemaybeyouwanttomarryhimbutyoudon’twantthiswedding,withMomandalltheotherpressures?”
Isabelle’seyesnarrow.Sheliftsafinger.“Waitaminute.AreyoutryingtoJedimindtrickmeintogoingthroughwiththiswedding?”
Thechangeinherdemeanorcatchesmeoffguard.It’slikeacoldfrontmovingthrough.“What?No.Ijustthought—”
“Ithoughtwewerecomingtoanunderstanding.”
“Wewere.Weare.Ijustdon’twantyoutodosomethingyou’llregretbywalkingoutonyourdreamwedding.”
“ImadeyoumymaidofhonorbecauseIthoughtyou’dsupportmenomatterwhat.BecauseIknewyouwouldn’tcareaboutanyofthefrills.”Shewavesahandattheritzybathroom.
“Okay.”Iliftmyhands.“Allright.Ifyoudon’twanttomarryMikael,youhavemyfullsupport,allright?Justdomeonefavor.Don’tmakethedecisiontoday.Noteventomorrow.IfonSundaymorningyouwakeupandyoustillfeelstronglythatthismarriageisn’tforyou,Iwilltakefullresponsibilityforlettingeveryoneknow.Deal?”
Hertensedbrowsoftens.“Okay.”Sheshakesherheadandpresseshertemples.“I’msorry,IknowI’mnoteasytodealwithrightnow.Iassureyouit’snoeasierbeinginsidemybrain.I’veneverfeltmoreoutofcontrolinmyentirelife.It’slike…Ihavenoideawhatmylifewilllooklikenextweek.Icouldbemarried.Icould…notbe.Icouldaskhimnottodothis,andheleavesme.Thereareamilliondifferentwaysthiscouldplayout.”
Asnapshotofimageflashesinmyhead.Luke’sfacedrownedinthegoldenlightofourfirstsunrise.Before…everything.
“Takethenextfewdays,”Isay,workingtokeepthepainfrommyvoice.“Theymaychangeeverything.”
Sheblinksatmeforafewsecondsbeforeopeningherarms.ThistimeherembraceissoftasIsinkintoherChanel-spritzedbody,andCassidyateveryagequeuesupinsideofmetohugherback.Thepipsqueakwhofeltlikewe’dalwaysbeeverythingtoeachotherwhenshewastooyoungtoknowbetter.Theteenagerwhocouldn’tstandhowmuchsheenviedher,sosheconvincedherselfshedidn’tcare—aboutanything.Theyoungadultwhocouldn’ttakethecomparisons,sosheforgedadifferentpath.Thetwenty-somethingwholovedherfiercelybutdidn’tknowwheretoputthecomplicatedfeelings,soshepulledback.
Andme,today.Thewomanwhofinally,finallybelievesweareequalinallthewaysthatcount,becausewearetheonlyoneswhogettokeepscore
“Youtwoareadorable.Iwanttoscoopyouupandputyouinmypocket.Canweeatnow?”Berkeleyasks.“Surelyourcrabcakemaincourseisoutbynow.”
“Food.”Mymoanisalmostperverse.
“Atoast:mayweallloveanythingasmuchasBlossomlovescrabcakes,”Berkeleysays.
Isabellestealsbackherclutchfrommyhand.“WhydoesshecallyouBlossom?”
BerkeleyandIshareabrieflook.Anentireagreementunfoldsinherknowingnod.Thekindfriendswithdeeprootscandecipher.
“It’sanickname.FromThePowerpuffGirls,”Itellmysister.“Speakingof,Ithinkyou’dmakeafineBubbles.”
“IgettobeBubbles?”Isabelleasks.
“Noonebetterembodiesthespirit.”
“Andifyouaren’tintothat,”Berkeleysays,“wealsoanswertotheSisterwivesofRobertPattinson.OrtheBlancheandRoseofAsheville.You’dmakeafineDorothy.Spendenoughtimewithusandyou’llforgetyouevenhavearealname.”
“Thankyouforincludingme.”Isabelletossesmeanearnestsmilethatkicksmeintheshin.“Itmeansalot.”
Berkeleymovestowardthedoor.“Shallwe?”
Isqueezemyfriend’sarm.“We’llberightbehindyou.”
Thedoorglidesshut,leavingmysisterandmealone.Isabellecastsherbrilliantlyblueeyesonme.
“Areyougoingtobeokay?”Iaskgently.
Iletthesilenceexpandbetweenusasmygazetracesthelinesofherface,thetensioninhershoulders.She’dneverletherselffallapartinfrontofBerkeley,oranyoneelse.Especiallynotatanevent.Herairbrushedfoundationconcealseverything.It’sthemostconvincingmaskI’veeverseen.
ButoneswipeofamakeupwipeandIbetI’dseethetruthetchedinherskin
HerpracticedsmilemeltsoffherfacethelongerIwatchher.
AnotherthingIdidn’tknowwesharedincommonuntiltoday:aBlisswillfallapartinsilence.
Shewilts.
Wedrifttogether.HerforeheadishotagainstmyshoulderasIcircleherwithmyarms.Sheisunmoored.Ineedtobeheranchor.
“Whateveryoudecide,”Iwhisper.“I’mhere.”ChapterThirty-Six
Luke
“That’sit.We’regettinganewstove.”
Itwisttheknobontherangetoturnofftheheat.Thisfuckingthingisinconsistent.Iwillripthisunitoutofthewall—
“Luke,surrenderthefryingpan.”
Sophiehip-checksme.Ilurchsidewaysandcatchmyselfonthecounter’sedge
“Whatthehell?”Ielbowherandlungeforthehandleofmyfryingpan.“I’mmakingeggs.”
“Clearly.Youhaven’tstoppedmakingeggs.Thisisthefourthtime.Nottomentionpancakesfordinnerlastnight,sausagesatmidnight,andtherandombatchofmuffinsyouattemptedat,what,foura.m.?”
“Youdidn’tcomplainwhenyouwokeuptofreshmuffins.”
Sheremovesthefryingpanfrommyhandanddumpstheburnedeggsintothesink.Theysizzleagainstthewetporcelainbasin.“Youhavetostopyourmaniccooking.Andyourmaniccleaning.You’redrivingeveryonebonkers,andithasn’tevenbeentwodayssinceyougothere.Didyouevensleeplastnight?OrFridaynight?”
Idonotdignifythiswitharesponse.Instead,Iyelltomyniece,coloringinthediningroom.“Olive,doUncleLuke’seggsdriveyoubonkers?”
Shepokesherblondheadthroughthedoorway.“Iloveeggs!”
MysmugsmileonlyprovokesSophie.
“Olive,goplay.Youruncleishavingabreakdown.”
AsIliftthetoweloffthecounter,sheyanksitfrommyhand.“Eventuallyyou’regoingtohavetotellmewhathappenedwithCassidy.”
Hernameislikearipcord.ThesecondIhearit,anacheunfurlsinmychest.“Itoldyou.Wehadagoodfewdaystogether,andnowit’sover.”
“Why?”
“BecauseI’mnotinterestedinher.”Theliebarelyletsitselfoutofmymouth.Myinsidescurlupinshame.
TheonlythingI’minterestedinisCassidy.Shehauntsmywakingthoughts.I’msogoddamncoldwithouthersmile,herlaugh,hertouch.IthoughtsayinggoodbyetoheratthehospitalwouldmakeforacleanbreakandI’dbeabletoquicklyforgeahead,surroundedbywhat’simportanttome.IthoughtbeingwithmyfamilywouldsoftentheblowbecauseI’drememberwhat’satstake.WhoI’vebeenworkingsohardtocarefor.
WhathaveallmysacrificesbeenforifI’mquicktoleaveitinthedustforawoman?
ButIcan’tmoveon.Ican’tletgo.
Yes,I’veseenfirsthandthatmypeopleneedme.ButwhatIdidn’taccountforwasthewayitwouldn’treplacetheneedIhaveforher
Friday,Iwasazombie.AftermorefruitlessdiscussionswithMom,Sophiedroveusbacktothehouse.IworkedforhourstoavoidthinkingaboutthelookinCassidy’seyeswhenweexchangedourlastwords:asifIpulledtherugoutfromunderus,buttherugwasamagiccarpetandwewereathousandfeetintheair.Shedidn’tseethiscoming,whichisentirelymyfaultbecauseIletthingsgotoofar.Itrickedusbothintoafalsesenseofsecurity.
LateronFriday,Imadeadinnerquiche,becauseCassidyoncesaidshewantedtomarrybreakfastfood.Iwantedtofuckit,whichwassuchanegregiousoversight.BreakfastistheonlymealthatIcouldeatallday,everyday,fortherestofmylife.
“Notinterested,myass,”Sophiemutters,herpigtailbraidsmakingherterrifyingexpressionsoftersomehow.“I’veneverseenyoulookatagirlthewayyoulookedatherinthathospital.Likeshewastheonlythingholdingyoutogetherasyouletherwalkaway.Andthat’swhileyouwerefighting.Ican’tevenimaginehowyoulookateachothernormally.”
Ishovedownthemiserythisassessmentprovokes.“Howsupremelyunhelpful,thankyousomuch.”
“What’sshelike?You’vetoldmenothingabouther.”
“Pleasedon’tdothis,Soph.Imademydecision.I’mnotgoingtopursuearelationshipwithher.”
“Whynot?”
Ithrowmyarmup.“We’realittlefuckingbusy,wouldn’tyousay?I’minthemiddleoftryingtomoveacrossthecountry.”
“Youdon’tlivehere,andyouaren’tgoingto.Youhavegenerouslygoneaboveandbeyondsendingusmoney,andtherearen’tenoughwordsintheEnglishlanguagetotellyouhowmuchIappreciateit.AndMom,too,whethersheadmitsitornot.Andeverythingyou’vedoneforthehouse?Renovationssowecouldlivehere?Icouldchokeontheguilt.Andthegratefulness.Sothisridiculousideathatyouhavetouprootyourwholelifesimplybecauseweall,what,exist?AndMomhashealthissuesshe’stoostubborntoface?Thatisabsurd.”
“Youexpectmetojustturnmybackonthisfamilywhenshe’sneverneededmemore?Whenthegirlsareonlygettingolderandthereforewillalsoneedmore?Whenyou’redoingeverythingbyyourself,andthehousestillneedswork.IfI’mactuallylivinghere,maybeIcangetmoredone,andMomwillbemoreinclinedtotakecareofherselfbecausewe’llbothbehovering.”
“Gonnastopyouthere.Theanswerisyes,turnyourback.BecauseI’vebeenhere,andithasn’tmadeadamnbitofdifferenceinMom’sbehavior.Obviously.Wecannotmakeherchange,Luke.Trustme,I’vestruggledtoacceptit,too.”
Iwince.Ihadn’tthoughtofitthatway.
“Butifyoucan’thaveyourownlife,”shecontinues,“Iwon’tbeabletolivewithmyself.I’mtiredoftakingfromyou.I’mtiredofseeingyoupunishyourselfforthedecisionssomeoneelsemade.YouarenotDad.Youarenotexpectedtocarrythisfamilyonyourback.It’stimetogetalife,Luke.”
“Jesus,Sophie.Don’tsparemyfeelings.”
“Whystartnow?Nowcanyouatleasttellmeaboutyourroadtrip?”Shecocksherheadtothesideanddelivershertrademarkwrysmile.“Cassidyisextremelypretty.Andseemssweet.”
MystomachroilsatthemerethoughtofCass.AthowmuchIwanttocheckinwithher.
Seehowthingswentwithherfamily.Hearhervoice.
Unfortunately,thismakesmeevenmoreirritatedwithmycurrentconversation.“Whyarewetalkingaboutthisagain?Andwhyareyousuddenlysoinvestedinmylovelife?Youcouldn’tstandGenevieve.”
“Correct.Icouldn’tstandGenevievebecauseshedidn’tloveyouforyou.Shelovedtheideaofyou.Shedidn’tcarewhatyouwantedorwhatwasimportanttoyou.Andshemadeyoufeellikeyouhadtochoosebetweenyourfamilyandher,whichissillybecausewewould’vegladlywelcomedherintoourlife.Orjustasgladlygivenyouspaceifthat’swhatyouneeded.Wearen’ttryingtoholdyouprisoner,Luke.”
“Oh,good.Iwasworriedyouweren’tdonewiththelecture,”Igrumble.
“Notalecture.”Shestepscloser,hersisterlystare-downinfiltratingmysoul.“Justpointingoutthatifyoudisappearedtomorrow,we’dstillbeokay.”
“Isthissupposedtomakemefeelbetter?”
Sherollsthetowelintoarattail.“Itmakesmefeelbetter.Yourkindnessissmotheringme.I’dmuchratheryougofindCassidyandbringherover.She’dprobablyloveyourburnedeggs.”
“IsweartoGod,ifyousnapthatthingatme—”
Snap
“You’redead.”Isnatchthematchingkitchentoweloffthestove’shandleandrunitunderthefaucet.Moisturemakesthetowelclingyandmorepowerfulwhenitfinallystrikes.Afterthirtyyearsoffightingwithmysister,I’maseasonedprofessional.
“Youdon’tplayfair!”Sophcries.“Youarenotallowedtohitmewiththat.Iamyoursister.Ibroughtlifeintothisworld.I’m—”
IsnapherattheanklewherehersweatsaresobaggyI’msureshewon’tfeelitthroughthefabric.Herhystericalcrypealsthroughthekitchen.
“Ihateyou.”Sheabandonsallstyleandrattailformandwieldshertowellikeanax.Itlandsonmyhead,amessyandineffectiveblow.
“Notthehair!”Ipatmyhead.“That’sthemoneymaker.”
“Please.YoulookliketeenageZackMorriswiththathaircut.”
“Ipaygoodmoneyforthishaircut.”
Sophiecackles.“I’msureyoudo.”
“Truce!”Iguardmyface.“Truce.Idon’twanttobuynewglasses.”
“Fine.”Sheslowstoastop,flashingmeherpalm.“Truceaccepted.Sowhatareyougoingtodo?AboutCassidy?”
Myspinestiffens.“Idon’tknow.EvenifIwantedto”—Isuckinanunsatisfyingbreath—“fixitorsalvageit,Idon’tknowifthat’sanoption.Andit’sallfineandgoodforyoutotellmetogetalife,butthatdoesn’tchangemyplans,perse.IwasgoingtoaskRogeliotoletmeworkremotelysoIcanmovebacktoCalifornia.He’svetoeditinthepast,butthatwasbecausehewantedmeintheofficesoIcouldlearnmorethanjustthejob.He’steachingmehowtorunafirm.Allpartofmyfive-yearplan.”
“YouwanttoliveinBakersfield?”sheasks,noseturningup.“Bakersfielddoesn’tevenwanttoliveinBakersfield.”
“Untrue.Thisplaceisupandcoming.”
“Surething,Zillow.”
“It’sgotaCostco.It’llbefine.”
“It’llbefine.Yousoundlikeyou’rebeingheldatknifepoint.Costcoismylife,Luke.”Hervoicelowerstoawhisper.“Whichisgoingverywell,bytheway.Ifyouweren’tsuchaninsufferablepaininmyass,Iwould’vetoldyouI’mdatingagain.”
“What?”
“Whichistosay,I’mlivingmylife.Nowit’stimetoliveyours.Whatdoyouactuallywantyourday-to-daytolooklike?”
VisionsofCassburstinfrontofmyeyes.Ofherchattingwithallthepeoplewemetonourtrip,becauseshegenuinelycaresthattheyfeelheardeventhoughshe’llneverseethemagain.Ofhergivingmehellattheairport.Ofherheadinmylaponthetrain.OfwrithingintheagonyofnotkissingheratMoab,untilIfinallydid.OfherwearingnothingatallinVegas—
IswipepastthatmentalimagebeforeIhaveaheartattack.
Iseemylifewithherasclearasday,whatevercitywelandin.We’recurleduponacouchwebringhomeaftershesit-testsahundredoftheminthestore.We’rehikingtrailsI’veneverhadtime—madetime—totry,sweatingandconstantlystoppingbecauseIcan’tkeepmyhandsoffher.We’retakingElvisfortripstothecoastsohecanrunonthebeach,becausehelovestheocean.Andsodowe.
Ionlyseeher.
Idon’twanttobeinaworldwherewe’reapart.
Herhistorywithhermom,thedepthofherconcernforhersister,andthewayshestayedclosewithherdadevenwhenitwashard,tellmesheunderstandshowcomplicatedfamiliescanbe.She’snotgoingtomakemechoosebetweenarelationshipwithherandhelpingmine.
Wow,Ireallyfuckingblewit.
She’dbewellwithinherrightstoneverspeaktomeagain.
TerrorgripsmeathowIleftthings.HowIallbutforcedhertoletthisgo.
Ihavetofigureout—andthenshowher—howalifetogethercouldbeours,whilestillleavingspaceforeverythingelsethat’simportanttousindividually.BecauseIdon’twanttolivewithouther.Ifthat’sselfish,soamI.
“Fuck.”Igriptheedgeofthecounter,andmyheadhangsindefeat.“Ilovehersomuch.”
Sophiesmilessosmugly,you’dthinksheintroducedus.“Yeah.That’swhatIthought.”ChapterThirty-Seven
Cassidy
TheBridalSuiteisachokinghazard,perfumesandhairproductsthickintheair.
Natalia,Reese,andSummerareafortressofchampagne,silk,andelaborateupdos,allstaringoutthewindowattheseatedcrowd.
Throughthewindow,Iglimpseacloudless,breathtakingLosAngelesafternoonsky.Thekindthatpromisesanenchantingevening.
Theceremonyisscheduledforsixsothatbythetimethey’rereadyforportraitsafter,thetwinklingblueskieswillignitewiththefieryhuesofsunset.ThesparklingsapphirewatersofthePacificstretchtomeetthehorizon,providingavast,beautifulbackdrop.Rowsofwhitechairsfaceapergolacoveredinjasmine.
Flowersareeverywheretoday.Pepperingbouquets,liningtheaisle,decoratinglapels.Bountiful,scentedremindersofLuke’scareandconcernwhenhehelpedmeresolvethefloralcrisisandhisbutcheringofthewordpeony.ThememorystingslikeIranmyfingersdownathornystem.
WhichiswhyI’mfocusingonthiswedding,andtheweddingonly.
NamelythefactthatIsabelleisMIA.
Sheranofftorunan“errand”atfouro’clockinherbridalrobe,herhairandmakeupfullyinplace,andnevercameback.
Itisnowfivefifty.
IgotMomoutofthissuiteatfivebytellingherIsabelletextedmetosayshewantstosurpriseMomwithhowshelookedinherdresswhenshecomesdowntheaisle—apanic-fueleddecisionthatwassurprisinglyeffective.
Thebridesmaidsknowthetruth.Isabellehasn’ttextedmeanything.
Theweddingcoordinatorsticksherheadin.“We’rereadytolineup!”
“Uh,allright!”Myvoiceexitsatapitchthatcouldbreakglass.
“Lineup?”Nataliaasks,eyesdartingtothedoor.“Howcanwelineupwithoutthebride?”
“She’llbehere,”Iinsist,coastingonfumesofhope.“She’scoming.”
Notentirelytrue.Shesaidsheneededtimebeforedartingoutonhermysteriouserrand.ButI’veknownmysistermyentirelifeandalmostallofhers.Intuitiontellsmenottocountherout.Notyet.
Plus—andIholdontothislikealifepreserver—mystepdadisn’there.IsabellemustbewithRand,andthey’vegottobeontheirwayhere.
Wequeueupbehindthebridalsuitewherewe’resupposedtostayoutofsightuntilwehearourcue.
Theprocessionalmusicswells.Isabelle’schoice:“StandbyMe,”performedbyastringquartet.
I’dlovetostandbyher—ifherasswouldshowup.I’manxious-sweatinginsilk.Ifthetableswereturned,she’dneverforgivemeforthatalone.
Thesecondstringedinstrumentjoinsthefirstonabuildingmelody.Summer’scue.
Iwaveheron.“Go!”
“Whatdoyoumeango?She’snotcoming,Cassidy!”Summercries,clutchingherverypregnantstomach.“Thisisbad.”
“She’llbehere.Shejustneeds—”
“Time,”SummerandReesesquawkinunison.
NataliagawksatmelikeI’velostmymind.“Uh,time’sup,Cass!”
Reese’scue—thethirdstringedinstrument,enrichingthevelvetharmony—comesandgoes.Reeseeyesthejaggedcoquinaedgeofthebuilding.
Wereallyareoutoftime.
Mythoughtsspinout.“Where’stheweddingplanner?Someonehastostopthemusic.Crap,IwishIhadmyphone.Idon’twanttowaveherdowninfrontofthecrowd…”
Reeseblinkstowardme.“What’stheplay,Cassidy?Yourcall.”
“Mycall?”Iglancefranticallybetweenthegirls.“Whyme?”
Alltheireyesremainfirmlyonmyface
“Whynotyou?”Nataliasays,confused.“Whoelse?You’rerunningthisshow.”
Natalia’scuecomesandgoes.
C’mon,Isabelle.WhenIsaidIwantedtohelpwiththewedding,Ididn’tmeantohelpitbleedoutinfrontofaliveaudience.
There’snodecisiontobemade,though.IknowwhatIhavetodo.It’sfreakingterrible,butitmustbedone.
“IneedtotellMikael.Hecan’tjuststandtherewaitingonlytohavehernotshowup.I’mgoing.Stayhere.”IwavemymassivebouquetwithwhiterosesandeightpoundsofcascadinggreeneryatNataliaforhertotake,morethanhappytodistancemyselffromflowers.
Sheliftsherbouquetback,asifwe’recheers-ing.
Irollmyeyesandshuffletowardthecorner.
WhenIstepintoview,Iallbutlosemynerve.Ifnotforyearsofperforminginfrontofanaudience,Imight’ve.
Pretendthey’restrangers.
Thecrowdswayswithmovement,leaningandwhispering,makingthewholeaudiencelooklikeashipswayinginastorm.Halfofthemfreezewhentheyseeme.Aunts,uncles,cousins.Friendsandacquaintances.AslewofpeopleI’veneverseenbeforeandwillprobablyneverseeagain.
Berkeleyisinthebackrow,facecontortedlikeshe’swatchingahorrifictruecrimedocumentaryunfoldbeforehereyes.
Walkfast?Walkslow?
Justwalk.
Iputoneheelinfrontoftheotherintimewiththemusic,aslavetotherhythm.
Mikael’scuriousexpressiongrowsclearerwitheachstepuntilIreachthefront.
“Hey,whereiseverybody?”heasks.Histoneisairy,asifhe’sbrokenawayfromanengrossingconversationatahousepartytodiscoverhalfthecrowdleft.Nofear,noworryinhiseyes.
“StandbyMe”cutsaway,andmystomachclenchesinthebriefsilence.
Mikaelcraneshisneck.“She’snotdoingoneofthosedancenumbersisshe—Oh,isthislikethatscenefromTheOffice?Arepeoplegoingtodanceorsomething?”Hetossesagood-naturedlaughoverhisshoulderathisgroomsmen.“Youguysuptosomething?”
“IsabellehatesTheOffice,”Imumble,squeezingthebouquet.
Tellhim.RipofftheBand-Aid
“Cassidy,what’sgoingon?”Mymother’sfranticwhisperfromthefrontrowshocksmebacktolife.
Thebridalmarchcrescendosuntilmyeardrumscryinprotest.
IblinkbacktoMikael.“It’s,uh—mysister,she…”
Hetiltshishead.“What?”
“Idon’tthink…”
Fearclogsmythroat.Isabelleisabouttoshatterthisman’sheartinathousandpieces.
Hiseasygrinfallsaway.Initsplace,concernbloomsintopanic.Ittugsathisbrows,hollowshischeeks.Rearrangeshislipsintoafrown.Hisjawtensesashetwiststochecktheaisle.
It’sstillempty.Brideless.
“Whereisshe?”heasks,histhroatmuscleworkingasheswallows.
I’veseenthatlookonaman’sfacebefore.Justonce,inmyrearviewmirrorasIleftthehospitalparkinglot.Ididn’trecognizethislookforwhatitwasonLukebecauseIwastooblindedbymyownfeelings.
It’sfearofloss.
It’slove.
Mikael’seyeslockonmineasIopenmymouth,readytosayit.She’snotcoming
“Mybad!”Summerscreechesasshetearsaroundthecorner.
Hundredsofheadsturninunison,ashiftingtide.
Shewaddlesatdoublespeed,smilingsohardshemightsprainacheek.“Hadtopee!Messedeverythingup!”
Nervouslaughterpassesthroughtheaudiencelikeagustofwind.Thestringquartetswitchesabruptlybackto“StandbyMe,”doublespeed.
NataliaandReeseareinchesbehindSummer,sidebyside.Nataliameetsmyeyeandnods,justonce,beforedazzlingtheaudiencewithasmile.Themusicbuffersusuntilwe’retuckedawayinaneatline,facingMikael.Leavingabride-sizeholeinthelineup.
Thecrowdrisesasthesongswitchesoncemore.Goosebumpsskitterovereveryinchofmyskin.
There,asifshewerealwaysthere,glowinginthemostperfectoff-whitemermaidcutgownevertograceabody,flankedbybothRandandmyfather,isIsabelle.
Everpoised.Everperfect.
Beaming.
Weddingculturedictatesthatwhileeveryoneelseisbusylookingatthebride,sentimentalistsshouldstealalookatthegroomtogetaglimpseathislove.
Icouldn’tdragmyeyesfrommysisterifIwantedto.AndIdon’thaveto.IsawthedepthofMikael’sloveintheflashbulbmomentofhisfear.
Whenhethoughthelosther.
…
“MayIhavethisdance?”Dadextendsahand,hishopefuleyestwinkling.
Ibreakawayfromthecrowdandlaymypalmagainsthis.Hespinsmetwicebeforehepullsmein.
“Ican’ttellyouhowgladIamyou’rehere.”Asmilesplitsmyfaceopen.“Youmayhavesavedthiswedding.”
“Can’tbelieveIalmostmissedit.”Heshakeshisheadregretfully,sweepinghisgazearoundtheballroom.“GuessIneededabrilliantwomantotalksomesenseintome.Iwon’tmissanotherevent.Neveragain.”
Ituckhispromiseinmypocket.“Good.”
“Loveyou,Cassafrass.”
“Loveyou,too,Dad.”
WeswayjustenoughthatMomcomesintoview,perchedagainstthewall,swirlingacrystalrocksglass.
Oureyeslock.
Sheliftsherchinandcrossesherarms.Adeepfrownmovesherexpressionfromhaughtytolivid.Guiltslithersupmyspine.ThesliverofpeaceI’dattainedwithDad’ssmilecastingwarmthovermefallsawayinarush.
I’llhearaboutthis.It’llbeafight.
Butthat’snotwhathurts.Afteryearsaway,aftertearingmyselfapartandputtingmyselfbacktogether,I’vefinallydeterminedwheretherealpainlies.Herwordsarefleshwounds,butthediseaseisineverythingshewithholds.ForeverybarbI’veeverendured,thedevastationisthethingsshe’sneversaid.Thethingsmyfatheroffersfreely.Iloveyou.I’mproudofyou.Iwantyoutobehappy,evenifit’swithyourdad,ordancing,oroutsideofcollege,orinAsheville.
Itshouldn’tbethisway.
Itnevershould’vebeenthisway.Theeffortofsuppressingtheinjusticecoursingthroughmyveinsissuddenlytoomuchtotolerate.
Whenthesongends,andnotasecondsooner,Imarchacrosstheroom.
Hervoicebordersonindifferent.That’showIknowshe’smad.“Thatwassomestuntyoupulled,Cassidy.Playedmeforafool,invitinghim.”
“Isabellewantedhimhere.He’shere.That’sagoodthing,don’tyouthink?”
Shescoffs.“YoutrickedmetogetmeoutofthebridalsuitesoyourdadcouldwalkIsabelledowntheaisle.”
Pressureinsidemybodythreatenstoburst.“Isabelleishappy.Lookather,Mom.”
Shedoesn’tbother.“She’snothappyyoucoercedherintoinvolvingyourfather.She’sjustgoodatfakingcivility.Youcouldlearnalotfromher.”
“CouldI?”Istepcloser,thetwineholdingmetogetherfraying.“Ihaven’theardlatelyallthatIhavelefttolearn.Youhaven’tmentionedmyshortcomingsinatleastfifteenminutes.”
Momfloatsalookoverhershoulder,flashingallherveneerslestsomeoneseeusfighting,eventhoughwe’reofftothesideofthebustlingballroom.“Alwayssodramatic.Ishould’veexpectedsomethinglikethis.You’vedonenothingbutunderminethisweddingateveryturn.Tookyoursweettimegettinghere,waltzedinwithanattitude.WhathappenedtomysweetCassidy?IfeellikeIhaven’tseenherinyears—”
“Enough!”
Myvoiceechoesoffthetiles,turningheads.
Berkeleymaterializesonmyright,clutchingmyforearm.“Yougood?”
HorrormovesoverMom’sfacelikeastormfront.“Lower.Your.Voice.”
“Orwhat,Mom?Whatareyougoingtodo?”
Themusclesinherneckjumpinherhastetoshushme.“Thisiscompletelyinappropriatebehavior.”
“Youdon’tlikeitwhenItalkback?WhenI’mhonestwithyou?Well,guesswhat—I’mdonehidingbehindasmile.I’mdonepretending.Ibustedmybutttogethereforthiswedding.Youwantedmetoshowupattheseevents,showeveryonehowperfectourfamilyis,sugarcoatmyaccomplishments,prancearoundandputonashow,hereIam!ImaynotbethepersonyouwishIwas,butI’venevernottriedmybest.I’venevernotgivenyoueverything.Andit’snever.Good.Enough.”
Herwateryblueeyeswiden,asifI’veactuallymanagedtoshockher.Asifshe’scapableoffeelingforsomeoneotherthanherselforseeingbeyondtheterrorthatshe’slivingthelifeshealwaysfeared:oneofmediocrityandlack.“Cassidy,I—”
“Guesswhat,Mom:Ilovemyself.Andmylife.Everythingthatyouhate?Thosearethepiecesthatbringmethemostjoy.Idon’tgiveonesinglefuckthatIdon’thavemoneyinthebankorthatmyfutureisunpredictable.Whatisityoualwayssay?Myjob‘hingesonmybodyandit’llbetrayme’—good!I’mgoingtouseitandappreciateitandkeepfollowingmypassion.Becauseyouonlyliveonce,andI’mnotgoingtowasteanothersecondofitnotdoingexactlywhatIwant.”
Herlipstwitch.“Areyoufinished?”
“Notevenalittlebit.Berkeley,givememyphone.”
“Yes,ma’am,”shesays,rustlingmyburnerfromhersatchel.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Mom’svoicebetraysagenuinefear,andIalmostfeelguiltthatI’veworriedher.
Butthenshebringsahandtoherhairandfluffsit.“Areyougoingtorecordtherestofthislittletirade?BroadcasttotheworldallthewaysI’mruiningyourlifelikeanoverdramaticteenager?”
Mygroanreachestherafters.“Goodlord,no.Thankstothisdelightfulconversation,I’verealizedI’mtiredofsilencingmyself.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“I’mtalkingaboutspeakingmytruthandtellingthemanIlovethathemessedup.Well,pendinghealreadyreplacedhisphone—nevermind.It’snoneofyourbusiness.Untilyoucantreatmelikeapersonworthrespecting,you’renotprivytomylife.Notanymore.”
“Ijustwantmychildrentobehappy,Cassidy.Whatdoyouthinkallofthishasbeenfor?”Shesweepshersatin-drapedarmattheelaboratelounge,filledwithherpeople.Hervision.Herdreamwedding.“EverythingIdo,orencourageyoutodo,isforyourhappiness.”
“No,Mom.It’sforyours.It’salwaysbeenforyours.Excuseme.”
Imaneuverthroughthecrowd,bloodsurgingthroughmyveins.Awashinrightness,bypassingeveryonewithoutasidelongglance.
ExceptIsabelle.Ipauselongenoughtospareherawink,whichshereturnsinearnestbeforeplasteringherselftohernewhusbandlikeastarfish.Assheshould.
IloveLukesomuchithurts.EnoughthatI’llwalkawayfromhimifthat’swhathebelievesisbest.ButnotuntilhehearseverythingIhavetosay.Iranawayfromthehospitalwithoutspeakingmytruth.
Thiscan’tendwithouthimknowingIlovehim.Thathehurtme.Itprobablywon’tchangeanything,butIwon’tlivemylifehidingadamnthing.Iwon’tshrinkmyselfevenwhenthetruthofmyfeelingsorneedsisinconvenient.Neveragain.
Ilethimseeeverything,andhewantedmeanyway.Thatdoesn’tjustgoaway,evenwhilehemartyrshimself.Butevenifthisendswithgoodbye,atleastI’llknowIwentoutswinging.ChapterThirty-Eight
Cassidy
ImoveawayfromtheDJ’sspeakersasIdialLuke’snumber,prayingheanswersbeforeIlosemynerve.
“Cass?”
Oh.
Achandeliercouldcrashintothegroundinfrontofmeanditwouldaffectmelessthanhisvoice.PainsqueezesmeuntilI’mbreathless.“Hush.Don’tsayanything.”
“Beforeyoustart—”
“Luke!”
“IfIcouldjust—”
“Please.”Ipressmyeyesshutastheballroomswirlsaroundme.“Ineedtogetthisout.”
Hefallssilent.Iimaginehislushlipspressedshut,andIwince.Thatmaddening,handsomeface.
Grittingmyteeth,Ipushon.“Ihatethewaythingsendedbetweenus.”Thecrescendoofaloudrocksonggripstheballroom.Bodiesonthepackeddancefloorriotwithexcitement,jumpingandsinginglikewe’reinaclub.It’ssoloudit’salmostlikethenoiseiscomingthroughthephone.“Youdon’tgettounilaterallydecidewhat’sbestforeveryone.
“Youmademefeellikethemostadoredpersonintheworld,andthenyoujustshutdown.Pushedmeaway.”Iworktokeepthequiveroutofmyvoice,butitsneaksinanyway.“Itwasterrible.”
“Iknow.”Hisexhalecracklesinmyear.“Iownthat.”
“And,”Icontinue,“youdiditinawaythatmadeitimpossibleformetofightforusbecauseyouputitbackonme.Likeyouweredoingmeafavor,oritwasaforegoneconclusionthatwecouldn’tmakeitwork,whenitwasn’tmutualatall.IfeltlikeIwasn’tworththefight.”
“PleasecanIsaysomething?”
“Onemorething.”IliftmydressafewinchesoffthegroundasIpaceapathontheoutskirtsofthedancefloor.“Ithurt,thewayyouendedit.Thereareamillionwaystobreaksomeone’sheartbutthatonewas…”RawsadnessgripsmeuntilIhavetopinchmyeyesshut.I’mflayingmyselfopenwhenIwassupposedtobematter-of-fact.“Itwassosudden.YoucheckedoutbeforeIevenwalkedaway.Ineedyoutounderstandhowthatwreckedme.”
Itstillwrecksme
“I’msosorry.”Hesoundsanguished.Thatmakestwoofus.“Iregrethurtingyoumorethanyou’lleverknow.”
IgrappletokeepholdofthedeterminationandfirethatspurredmetocallhiminthefirstplacewhenallIwanttodoiscryandretreat.MaybeanapologyisthebestI’llgetoutofthis,butImadeitthisfar.
Ineedtosayeverythingsoitdoesn’thauntme.
“TellingyouthatyouhurtmeisonlyhalfthereasonIcalled.”
“Whatelse?”Hiswordsaresteepedinadesperatesortofurgency.“What’stheotherhalf?”
Ivisualizemysilkandsequinedgownasacloakofarmor.IpretenditcankeepmesafeasthetruthofwhatI’mabouttosaythreatenstospearmethroughthechest.“Iloveyou,Luke.Whetheryouwantarelationshipornot,whetheritmakessenseornot—Iloveyou.Iloveyou,evenifthisisover.Ididn’ttellyouatthehospitalbecausewhatIwantandfeelfeltsmallandinconvenientinthefaceofwhatyouweregoingthrough,butIcan’twalkawayfromthiswithoutputtingitoutthere.Ihadtosayitoutloud.Ihadtotellyou.”
Secondsbleedtogetheraseverythingintheworldmakesnoisebuthim.
TheDJ’stunesvibratethroughtheballroom,throughmychest.Laughterandchattermeldtogetherintoawallofsound.
Foolishhopebloomsinmyheart.
Itoldhimbecauseit’strue,andIknewtherewasariskhewouldn’twanttohearit.Butitdoesn’tstopmefromwantinghimsomuchithurts.
Thelongerhedoesn’tspeak,thefastermyheartbeats.
“Cass…”
Ipressmyeyesshut,plummetingfrommyhigh.
Thefastsongwrapsandthefranticswayofbodiesstills.
Theend.Justlikethat.
ThelivebandreturnsfromabreakandrelievestheDJ.Aslow,drowsyballadfillstheroom.Couplespairoffforaromanticdancewhileothersmallgroupslinkarmstosway.
It’sabeautifulmomentforeveryoneelse.
Forme,thisElviscoverwillserveasareminderoftheexactmomentItoldaman,“Iloveyou,”anditwasn’tenough.
“It’sokay.”Myvoicebreaks.“Youdon’thavetosayanything.Infact,Idon’twantyouto.It’druinthemoment.Let’sjust—”
“You’recutewhenyoubabble.”
Ipresstheheelofmyhandtomyforehead.“What?”
“Icanalmostimagineyou,pacingbackandforthinyourprettygolddress,faceallscrewedupindetermination.”
HownicehethinksmydressisprettyasI’mfallingapart—
Wait.
“Inevertoldyouaboutmydress.”Iblinktowardthedancefloor.“Wenevertalkedaboutthecolor.”
Myheartswellsasthepianoplayerandsingerstrikeamagic,harmoniouschord.
Hehums.“Didn’twe?”
“No.Wedidn’t.”
“Well,doesn’tchangethefactthatit’spretty.Matchesyourhairpieceperfectly.”
IfumblearoundmyhairfortheornateaccessoryIsabellepickedforme.Mypulsekicksintoovertime.“Luke,areyou—”
“HaveIevertoldyouyoureyeslooklikemoonstones?Fulldisclosure:Ididn’tknowwhatmoonstoneswere,butIcouldn’tshakethefeelingthatI’dseenyoureyessomewherebeforeandscouredtheinternetuntilIfiguredoutthesource.”
Iscanthedensecrowd,gazehigh,searchingforaface.OneI’vemappedwithmyeyesandtracedwithmyfingers.
He’sgottobehere.Oh,thehopeofitmightkillme.
“Igotyoualittlesomethingtocommemoratethatsearch.Checkyourpurse.”
Halting,InestlethephonebetweenmyearandshoulderasIriflethroughmyclutch.Myfingersbrushatinyboxthatwasnottherebefore.
“Howdidyou…”Iflickitopen,andabrilliantbluependantstrungonadaintysilverchainwinksbackatme.“Oh.Ohmygosh.”
Anecklace.
“Allyourringsaresilver,soIwentwithamatchingchain,”heexplains.“GavetheboxtoWill,whopromisedhecouldgetittoBerkeley,whoofcoursehasfullaccesstoyou.Willhadtofightwiththedoormanbeforetheceremonystarted,butitsoundslikeyouwereallverydistracted.HewasabletoslipinandgetittoBerkeleynoproblem.”
Istrokethegorgeousstonewithmythumb.“Ididn’tseehim.”
“Hesawyoupacingaroundwiththebridesmaids.Must’vebeenabusytime.”
Swallowingasurgeofdisappointment,Iziptheboxbackintheclutch.
Sothat’showLukeknowsmydressisgold.Willtoldhim.
Luke’snothere.
Idodgebodiesonthedancefloor,urgencydrainingfrommybody.“It’ssobeautiful.Thankyou.”
“You’remorethanwelcome,”hemurmurs.“Iwantedtomakesureyouhadapieceofme.”
Myhopedeflatesinagust.
Apieceofhim.
Thisisasomethingtoremembermebygift.
Myhandmovestomychestasmyheartconstricts.
Anothergoodbye.
Ifthisisthelasttimewe’llevertalk,I’llfallapart.Pressurebuildsbehindmyeyesatthethoughtofit.
Ican’thandlethattonight.Ihavetobeonformyfamily.
Comingtoastop,Igrappleforawaytosavefaceandendthiscall.“Maybeweshouldsetupatimetotalkabout…everything,”Isay,hollowedout.“Aphonecall,orwhateveryouhavetimefor.”
Hisexhalepiercesmyear.“I’vegotaprettyloadedweek.”
“Right.”Isawmylipbetweenmyteeth.Ishuffleaimlesslythroughthefray,lettingthedancefloorswallowme.“Iknowyou’rebusy.Didn’tmeantoassume—”
“Howaboutnow?”
ThehairsonthebackofmyneckriseasIsqueezethephonetodeath.“Now?”
“Yes.”HeemergesfromadensehuddleofMikael’stallrelativescongregatinginthecenterofthedancefloor.“Rightnow.BecauseIcan’twaitanothersecond.”
Possessivenessripsthroughmeinonefranticslash.
MyLuke.
Hisfacesoftenswhenhemeetsmyeye.“Ineededtoseeyou,”hemurmursintohisphone.“Desperately.”
Allmydefensivewallscollapseinarush.Myarmorfallsaway.
Helookssinfulinacharcoalsuit,sopolishedanddownrightdeliciousit’sallIcandonottokeelover.Seeinghimislikeplungingintothewarmestbath.
“Iloveyou,Cass.I’mcompletelyinlovewithyou.Yourfeelingsarethemostimportantthingtome.Theyareneveraninconvenience.You’reitforme.AndIcouldn’twaitanotherday,orevenaminute,tosaythattoyou.”
Thewordstattoothemselvesonmyheartoneatatime.
Ican’tspeak.Icanbarelybreathe.
Hissmilehooksmearoundthemiddleandtugsmeastepforward.IwadetowardhimlikeI’minwater.
“IloveyouspeechlessasmuchasIloveyoutalking.”Hisvoiceblazesashisgazeholdsmine.“ItwasneveraquestionaboutwhetherIloveyou.Itwasalwaysabouthavingenoughtogiveyou.Howwecouldpossiblymakeitwork.But,asitturnsout,myfuturedoesn’tworkwithoutyou.Notanymore.”Hestepscloser,asinceresmilestealinghisfaceandturningitintoapreciousworkofart.“CassidyBliss,youreallyaresomethingelse.AndthankGodforthat,becauseit’sexactlythethingI’vebeenmissing.”
Thecrowdhasallbutstoppeddancing.Cousins,friends,andstrangersalikeformaloosecircle.Thebridalparty,Berkeley,mydad—alleyesareonus.Theirawwsandwhispersdancethroughtheair.
Okay,we’reputtingonabitofashow
Ahandfindsthesmallofmyback.
Isabelle’s.Andsheallbutshovesme.“Girl,runtothatman.Don’twalk.”
Asmilesplitsmycheeks.
LukeandIeachtakethreesteps,meetinginthemiddle.
Helowershisphoneandthentakesmine
Astriking,dark-hairedmaninabluesuitstepsupbesidehim.“Letmetakethoseforyou.”
Berkeleyalsostepsforwardandtugstheman’sforearm.“They’rehavingtheirmoment.Letthemlive!”
Helevelsherwithalook.“I’mhelping.”
IgapeasBerkeleyushershimaway.“Will?Youbroughtaplus-one?”
Lukewavesthisoff.“He’smyride.Youhaveourcar,remember?”
Oh,doIlovethewordouronthatman’stongue.
Hiseyebrowsfurrowindetermination.“Peryouroriginalpoint,Ihurtyou.AndI’msorrierthanyou’lleverknow.Ihavealottomakeupfor.Idon’tcarewhatwehavetodotomakeitwork—we’llmakeithappen.We’llsplittime.We’llliveinacar.Whateverittakes,I’llgladlydoit,aslongasyou’llletmekeeplovingyou.”
Thosebabyhazelsreducemetoasimperingmess.I’mdyingfromtheeffortofnottouchinghim.“You’reforgiven.”
Hopeflickersinhisgaze.“Justlikethat?”
Ishrugacoyshoulder.“Ifyoupromisetostopmakingourdecisionsunilaterally,yes.Andifyougrovel.Somethingtellsmeyou’dbereallygoodatthat.”
“I’lldowhateveryouwant.I’llgetonmykneesforyoueveryday.”Hestrokesmycheekwithhisthumb.“Foraslongasyou’llletme.”
Ileanintohistouch.“Yougotyourselfadeal.”
Hismouthclaimsmineinarush.Withanarmaroundmywaist,hedipsmeforaperfect,heart-stoppingkissascheerspressinonallsides.
Mylips,myheart,everylastpartofmewasalwayshisforthetaking.It’sasifourtimeapartwasjustagasp,abreath.Ineverwanttostopkissingthisman,feelingthesureslideofhislipsovermine,butthereissomuchelseIwanttodowithhim.Iwanteverything.
We’veonlyhadmeredays.Iwantforever.
Ipullbackandscanthecrowd,bitingbackaswoonysigh.“Well,Iguessit’stime.”
“Time?”Hearchesabrow.
“Foryoutoofficiallymeettherestofthefamily,ofcourse.AndBerkeley,inperson.”Igestureatthethrongsofpeople.
“Onlyifyou’llintroducemeasyourboyfriend.”
Anotherwordcarvedintomyheart.Boyfriend.Ican’thidemygiddygrin,andIdon’tbothertrying.“Ilikethesoundofthat.”
Heputshismouthonmyear.Electricitydancesdownthecurveofmyneck.“Excellent.Followupquestion:doyouthinkBerkeleyhasMace?”
“It’sverypossible.”
Henipsmyearbeforepullingback.“Noted.”
Ismoothhislapels,mysmilesheepish.“Fairwarning,ImayhavepissedMomoffalittle.Shemaynotbeathermostagreeable.”
“Whatarelief.”Hetakesmyhandandtwirlsmeoncebeforereelingmeagainsthischest.Therealworldcallsintheformofmylovedones,butwestealonemoresecond,justforus.“Iwasbeginningtothinkthismightbefun.”
“It’llbeadisaster.”IgazeatthemanIneversawcoming,glimpsingforeverinhiseyes.“Ourspecialty.”Epilogue
Thiswasnotpartoftheplan.
NotthepitstopintheLittleWhiteChapel’sbathroom,anyway.
“We’regoingtomissourturn,”Lukescolds,spinningmetofacethemirror.“We’veonlygottwominutes.”
“Youfollowedmehere!Iwastouchingupmymakeup.”Iswipehisfavoritestrawberryglossovermylips,andheknocksthetubeoutofmyhand,pillagingmymouthwithakissthatechoesinthedeepestrecessesofmybody.Ipullbackforair.“Andnowyou’redistractingmewithyourtongue.”
“Youlooksobeautifulinwhite.Kissmeagain.”
“Soneedytonight.”Igropebehindme,stillhalffusedatthemouthasIfeelforhim.“What’stheoccasion?”
Heblinkstowardthemirror,undeniablygorgeousinawhitebutton-up.“Spontaneousmarriagetothewomanofmygoddamndreams.”Hisstrongarmscircleme,holdingmeagainsthischestasheplantskissesdownmyneck.“Ourweddingmakesmesofuckinghard.”
Myheartfillsuntilitnearlybursts.“It’snottoolateforustogobacktothehotel.I’llletyoudothatthingwebothlike,andwecanelopetomorrow.AslongasImarryyoubytheendofthistrip—”
“Idon’tneedtwominutes.”Hehitchesmyalreadyshortdressevenhigherupmyhips,andmyhandslandonthecountertobracemyself.Hebendsmeover,andoureyeslockinthemirror.“Notthistime.”
Wemissourtenp.m.slotbythreeminutes,becauseI’mhardforourwedding,too.
It’sVegas,soafteraquickchatwiththechapelconcierge,we’resignedupfor10:10instead.Noonebookedthatspot.
Ourluckybreak.
IcircleLuke’shandaswesearchforourwitnessesinthebusy,rowdylobby.“Areyousureyouwon’tregretnothavingourfamilieshere?”
“Thisoneisforus.”Hekissesmyknuckles.“Thenextonecanbeforthem.”
BerkeleyandWillarestandingfivefeetapart.I’dfeelbadabouttheterribletimethey’rehavinginVegasiftheyweren’tsoinsufferableintheirbickering.
Andherewethoughtit’dbefuntobringourfriendsalongforanimpromptuvacation.
“Youtwoready?”Imakealassoinggesturetogatherthemcloser.
Berkeleysighs,dejected,andhooksherarmthroughmine.“Youaredisgustinginyourhappiness.”
“Youaredisgustinginyourhotness.Stopupstagingthebride.”
Shegesturesatherplungingneckline.“ConsideringyouliedandsaidweweregoingtotheHighRoller,thisiswhatyouget.”
“We’llgettothat.”ItossLukeasmile.“After.”
Hegruntsandpullsmeintoasloppykiss.
“Youtworeallyputthe‘P’inPDA,”Willnotesloudly.
Berkeleybuffshernails.“Finally.Somethingweagreeon.”
10:10sneaksup,andwedescendonthechapel.TheElvisimpersonatorlookslesslikeElvisthanmydad,buthe’lldo.
Werecitetheroutinechapelvows,butwhenweslidegoldbandsoneachother’sfingers—hissturdy,mineshaky—I’mcertainwe’retheonlytwopeopleintheworldwhohaveeverdonethis.Whenmusicpipesthroughthespeakers,andwe’reofficiallydeclaredhusbandandwife,hishoney-hazeleyesaretheonlypaironEarthasheleansintoclaimme.Sincethesecondwemet,it’salways,only,beenusagainsttheworld.Ourkisstasteslikelingeringstrawberrygloss.ItgoesonsolongBerkeleyprodsmeintheanklewithhershoe.
Theweddingrecessionalmakesmewanttodance.
Theelopementisfast,sacred,andalmostdidn’thappenbecausemyhusbandcan’tkeephishandsoffmeandcan’tstopstealinglittlemomentsforustosavor.
Ineverwanthimtostop.
It’sperfect.
WeleadourbestfriendstotheHighRoller,boardingthelastopenbarpodofthenight.Andlikeagoodbrideandgroom,weignorethemastheygetliquoredupandfindourfavoritespotagainsttheglass.
Weignoretherestofthefullpod,too,holdingeachothercloseandswayingasweascendoverVegas.Themomentisachinglyours.
Hepresseshismouthagainstmyear.“Ididwritemyownvows,youknow.”
Goosebumpscascadedownmyneck.Everywordhespeaksisprecious,butthisfeelslikethelotterydumpedinmybankaccount.“I’mgoingtocrywhenIhearthematthenextceremony,aren’tI?Ifwedothebigweddingourfamilieswant?”
“I’mnotworriedaboutwhatanyoneelsewants.You’remyfamilynow.”HetiltsmychinsoIcanseehisface,andnow,we’retheonlyoneswhohaveeverriddenthisride.We’retheonlytwopeoplewhokisslikewe’realone,nomatterwhereweare.“I’llputyoufirstandloveyoumosteverytime.Thosearemyvows.Andfrankly,Idon’tcareifanyoneelseeverhearsthemaslongasyoudo.Thisweddingwasenoughforme.You’llalwaysbeenough.”
Acurrentofpleasureradiatesthroughmychest,reachingnooksofmyheartthatIdidn’tknowexisteduntilImethim.
Ispintofacemyhusband.“There’ssomethingyoushouldprobablyknownowthatwe’remarried.”
Hesmoothsthehairhangingovermyshoulder.“SomethingIhaven’tlearnedinthelastyearandahalf?”
Iscroungethetatterednapkinfrommypurseandplaceitinhispalm.
Hisbrowsknittogether.“Youkeptit.”
“Idid.”
Asmilethreatenshislips.“Youkeptmyterriblechicken-scratchdrawingofyoudancing.”
“Itwasthefirstpresentyouevergaveme!”Myeyesseekhis.“Turnitover.”
Heflipsthetinypaperscrap.
“Youdrewme,”Isayquietly.“Idrewus.WhereIseeusayearfromnow,Imean.Aglimpseofwherewe’llbeonourpaperanniversary.”
Hiseyesflitsidetoside,studyingthelines.“Usnexttoahousethatisproportionallyoursize?”
“Ithinkit’stime.Rogeliothinksyou’rereadyfortheexpansion.Yourniecesaren’tgettinganyyounger,andI’manauntnow,too.Andourmoms…well,youknow.AslongasweliveahealthydistancefromWestlake,I’mallin.I’mreadyforCalifornia.”
“Cass—”
“Luke.YouknowI’mright.Thiswasalwaysyourgoal.”
Hesitationcloudshisgaze.“YouloveNorthCarolina.Whataboutyourjob?”
Ishrug.“Iworkedafullseason.I’venetworked.Myfootisverymuchinthedoor.NowIhavetheexperiencetoapplyforanycoachingjob.”
“AndBerkeley?”
Iswallow,peekingpasthim.“Okay,I’mdeeplyindenialaboutthatpart.ButIcanmakeaprettyconvincingcaseforCalifornia.She’snottetheredtoAsheville.”
Helaughs,tracingmycheekwithhisthumb.“Youcanbeverypersuasive.”
It’stacitagreement.Mystomachflips.NotbecauseI’mscaredtomove—Lukeismyhome.Healwayswillbe,nomatterwherewego.ButbecauseIwanttogivehimasmuchashegivesme,andIthinkhe’spreparedtoletme.“Pennyforyourthoughts?”
“Forone,I’msurprised.”Hisbrowarches.“Mywifehatesplans,andthisreeksofaplan.”
“I’mnotsayingweplaneveryfacetofourlife.Ilovespontaneoussex,forexample.Infact,I’mnotentirelysureyoushouldn’tsneakyourhandinmydressrightnow.Butinthisinstance,regardingthematterofouraddress,I’mwillingtomakeanexception.”
“Youaremydreamwoman.”Hishandscradlemyface,adorationinhiseyes.“Billionsofpeopleintheworld,andsomehowIfoundyou.”
Iframehishandswithmyown,soakinguphiswarmth.“Wefoundeachother.”
Despitetheodds.Despiteeveryroadblock.Ormaybebecauseofthem.
Everythingwentwrongsowecouldberight.
Together.
Thelovedoesn’tendhere…JointheEntangledInsidersforfreebooks,giveaways,exclusiveaccesstoupcomingtitles,andsomuchmore!Acknowledgments
Writingthisbookwasatrip—punintended.
CassidyandLukeareeachhalfofmyheart,thewet-sea-ghostloving/rowdy/terriblepunhalf(seeabove)andtheoverlycautious,reservedhalfthatsomehowfittogetherperfectly.Theymeantheentireworldtome,andIamsogratefultosharethemwithyou.
Thelargestall-capsTHANKYOUtoHeatherHowland,JessicaTurner,andtheteamatEntangled.Iamsogratefultocallyoumypublishinghome.Heather,thisbookiswhatitisbecauseyouremindedmetobemyself,andalsoknewwhentosavemefrommyself(again,seetheabovepunandthemillionotherjokesItriedtosneakintothisbook,whoops).Yourmagictouchisoneverypage.
TomyagentBarbaraCollinsRosenberg:yoursupportofnotonlymybooks,butofeverystepinthepublishingprocessmeanstheworld.
Tomyfamily,immediateandextended:youareeverything.MyTexas,Florida,Massachusetts,Coloradofamilyandbeyond.Icouldn’tdoitwithoutyou.Tomyhusbandwhocooksmebreakfastfoodsallhoursoftheday.Youfuelme.
TothecirclethatswarmedmewhenthegoinggottoughandIwasworkingfiftyhoursaweekandwritingallnight—Icannotshoutmyloveandthanksenough.SarahT.Dubb,JessicaJoyce,RisaEdwards,AlexandraKiley,andMaggieNorth—youcameintomyDMswhenIforgothowtohumanandheldmetogetherwithkindwords,goodnotes,andmemeducttape.Youreadthistwice,sometimesthreetimes,andactedlikeitwasbrandneweverytime.JenDevon,SarahBurnard,andIngridPierce—youreadforme,supportedme,andheldmyhandingroupchatsandbeyond.AlainaRose,youareaconstantsourceofwisdomandencouragement.
ToRocheleSmit,thankyouforbeingmyconstantsupport.Ourfriendshipmeanstheworldtome.Ourvoiceshavemeldedintoone.AndtoCaraStoutandMichelleAsmara,Iamsogratefulforourgroup.
ToLauren,Austin,Megan,Shannon,Jordan,Melina,Josh,Megen,Ashley,Shanda,andHilary—thanksforbeingonthereceivingendofmyrandomstream-of-consciousnesstextsandlovingmeallthesame.
TomyearlybetasHailey,Nicole,Carla,Cristiana,Britt,AlexN.,Emma,Esther,andSarahE.—Iameternallygratefulforyoursupportandincredibleinsight.Thankyouforshapingthisbookandmakingmefeellikeithasahomewitheachofyou.
TomyDGIAB,alwaysandforever.Rachel,Britt,Kate,Kenn,Libby,Cat,Brooke,Hannah,K.C.,Morgan,Lindsay,Katy.YouaretheMVPsofmyheart.AndtomyWTSfriendsandHQ’s,thankyouforthemostfunandfulfillingfriendships.Thewritingcommunityis,simplyput,incredible.
Andtomyreaders,youarethereasonthisexists.Thankyoufortakingachanceonme,mywords,andmycharacters.IloveyoualllikeCassidylovesdanceandLukelovesactuallyactuary-ing…morethanIcouldeversay!AbouttheAuthor
RomanceauthorLivyHarthastwochildren,toomanyFunkoPops,andahusbandwho’sworkin’ontherailroad—literally.ShecurrentlyresidesinDallas,Texaswheresheenjoyslongwalksontheconcreteandpeople-watchingatmallssobigtheyhavetheirownzipcodes.Whenshe’snotwriting,she’sbickeringwithherKitchenAidstandmixer,road-trippingtohersleepyFloridahometown,orsippingespressoonherNonna’sporch.