DARYN
“Oh my goodness.” Mom rinses a glass and hands it to me without looking away from the window. Outside, Dad is accosting Gideon yet again, talking at him nonstop with a huge grin on his face. “I think your father is in love.”
It’s true. Dad’s acting like he just met his new best friend. I’ve never seen him so open right off the bat. So engaged and enthusiastic. But I suppose that after everything, he’s realized how precious time is, and how you can’t waste it.
I laugh as Gideon looks up and sees me, lifting his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “That makes two of us,” I say.
Mom turns to me, giving me a look that’s more happy than surprised. “Daryn. That’s so wonderful. I like him a lot. He’s a lovely young man.”
“He just got here, Mom. You’ve only known him one day. Most of it, he’s been with Dad.”
“But I can tell.”
Isabel, who’s drying dishes beside me, winks. “It’s in his bearing.”
“Yes,” Mom agrees. “I think that’s it. And he’s hot.”
“What? Mom, ew.”
She and Isabel laugh, enjoying my discomfort. I look from one to the other, wondering how I never saw it coming that these two would hit it off, too.
Isabel arrived a few days ago to spend some time with us before the party. It seemed important to bring the past year and a half home with me—and Iz was such a huge part of it. I think it’s helped Mom and Dad to see that, though I wasn’t here with them, I was with great people. It’s eased their minds some, even though there’s so much I’m not sharing with them. Things that are better left unsaid. We’re working on catching up on everything else, though. Everything we can.
Mom’s been doing well lately. Her depression has been under control for the better part of a year. She’s meditating and running and taking good care of herself, and the meds she’s on are working well for her. She’s active in the community, working on several charities that raise money for causes benefiting the families of missing children, caring for the homeless, and increasing awareness of mental disorders. She’s amazing.
And she looks happy. Happier than when I left. I’ve heard it said that parents are only as happy as their unhappiest child, but the same is true in reverse. If she or Dad weren’t happy, I wouldn’t be, either. I wasn’t. But, for now at least, they’re good and I’m good—and that’s a lot to be happy about.
Josie’s stressed but it’s the reasonable, normalish kind. She’s taking summer courses, and it’s the stress she puts on herself to make good grades. She’s on track to graduate early, working really hard to achieve her goal of getting into a top medical school. I’ve met some of her friends from Yale and they’re awesome. A small, close-knit group. I can tell they balance out her relentless drive a little bit. Just ten minutes ago, I heard them making plans to go for pizza and a movie later. After a day of lounging around the pool, that’ll make an entire day of not cracking a book for Josie. It’s another thing to be happy about. We all need people to look out for us.
Dad, apparently, was lost until I came home. Both Mom and Josie suffered, but somehow managed to move on with their lives. He didn’t. From what I’ve been told, he was in agony until the second I walked back through the door.
I’d never seen Dad cry like he did that day. Big, racking sobs that shook me. It went on for hours, every time he’d look at me. All day, I found myself holding him, not even capable of comforting him with words. I had worried so much about their disappointment in me. Their anger. But there was none of that.
We were together again. That was everything. To all of us. The sobs and the tears and long, long hugs were just the release of all the worry and pain.
That was six weeks ago, and I still can’t think of that day without getting choked up and wanting to hug him. Even though, since then, he’s been overjoyed. He’s been the guy outside, with his arm hanging around Gideon.
I think I gave him his life back by coming home.
I think I did that for both of us.
The Sight never came back to me after we came out of the Rift. That part of my life is finished, as far as I know. It’s time for me to get on with life, not as a Seeker but as Daryn.
In the past six weeks, I’ve submitted applications to several colleges, trying for late admission. Gideon has, too. Some of the schools are the same. Some just close to each other geographically.
Who knows? We have no idea what’s going to happen. Education is important to both of us. It’s the right next step. But we’re both on the same page about our relationship. We know we’ll work it out so we can be together—that’s our priority.
We’ve been lucky enough to find each other. No one makes me happier than he does. I know there are no long-term guarantees, but I also know without a doubt what I want today, and tomorrow, and the next day.
Him.
His blue eyes. His smile. His strength and sense of honor. His belief in me.
Even his temper.
I want it all. If that’s not worth shaping my life around, what is?
Besides. Dad and Chief are both obsessed, and it would be cruel to break their hearts.
Mom, Iz, and I finish up this round of dishes. None of us expected the party to last hours longer than it was meant to, but we should’ve. These are the best people I know. I don’t want this day to end, and I’m obviously not alone in feeling this way.
As Mom and Isabel take the glasses out to the bar set up at the pool house, I slip away.
“Daryn?” Mom says, stopping me at the stairs.
“I left something in my room. I’ll be right out.”
She smiles. “Hurry back.”
I vault upstairs and into my room. My notebook is on my desk.
I grab it and bring it to my bed, flip it open, and read the last entries.
94. Home! With Dad, Josie, Mom, Mom, Mom. Chief! My room. The big gold couch. Josie’s cookies. Mom’s hugs. Dad’s smile. Our house. Home home home home home.
95. Making plans for the future with Gideon. Making a future with Gideon via plans.
96. Isabel, here at home. Like she’s a piece of the puzzle we always knew we’d find.
97. Every time I look at Sebastian. Every time.
98. Letting go of regret. Embracing life, the future, love.
I write the next one.
99. Today. This perfect day.
I smile as I hear footsteps coming down the hall.
Gideon appears at my door and props his elbow on the frame. Chief bounces around at his feet for a second, then flops on his back, waiting for a stomach rub. “I think your dad’s trying to give me your dog.”
I laugh. “Not so fast,” I say. “But I’ll consider sharing him with you.”
His eyebrows go up. “That’s better than I expected.” He sits beside me and takes my hand. His eyes drop to my notebook, scanning the last lines. “Nice,” he says, smiling at me. “What’s one hundred going to be?”
It’s a really good question. I smile, closing the notebook. “I’m leaving it empty. So I never stop looking.”
“I see a Reason now,” he says, looking right into my eyes.
I smile. “So do I.”