Zach
Ryan and Calandra return to town Friday afternoon, arriving at the office for their grand entrance before heading to their own place.
No clients are there, so we congregate in the open showroom. Mom hugs Ryan then Calandra, then Ryan again, tears on her face.
“Good to see you, bro.” I give Ryan a hard hug, crushing him. I’ve missed my big brother, always there with advice. I should talk to him, but I don’t want to monopolize his time while he’s busy being adored.
Ben hugs Ryan with much back-pounding, then Austin comes in for his. We all get to hug Calandra too—she’s our sis now. Erin hangs back, as she’s not part of the family, trying to give us our space. Mom, however, introduces her, and both Calandra and Ryan greet her with enthusiasm.
It’s a while before Ryan can wander into the break room by himself. Austin and I are in there grabbing coffee, and I pour Ryan a cup.
“Glad to be back?” I ask him.
Ryan snorts as he lifts his coffee. “Back to work instead of days of blissful ease in the wilderness with my lady? Sure.”
I toast him with my cup. “I hear you. So what did you guys do?”
“They had sex.” Austin leans on the counter, coffee in hand, grinning. “What do you think?”
Ryan flushes, but he doesn’t deny it or look ashamed.
“I meant in between the sex,” I clarify.
“It was beautiful. We hiked through slot canyons and fields yellow with wildflowers, found an old railroad bridge and ancient pueblo ruins. It was cool.”
Ryan loved that kind of thing—hiking over Arizona and discovering out-of-the-way bits of it. History and wild land. Now he had someone special to share those adventures with.
“What’s been going on here?” Ryan asks. “Besides the usual.”
“Zach’s sleeping with Abby Warren,” Austin answers promptly.
I take a swing at Austin, but he’s adept at avoiding me.
Ryan’s brows climb. “Yeah? She’s Calandra’s best friend. Don’t let me hear that blowback when you break her heart.”
I frown at him. “Why are you so sure she’ll be the one with the broken heart?”
“I know you, Zach. You aren’t easily satisfied. A woman wants a commitment, and you don’t commit.”
“It’s mutual drifting,” I say in my defense. “Or the lady decides she prefers someone else.” Ryan nods in sympathy, knowing what I’d gone through. “Besides, who are you to talk about running from commitment?”
“Okay, so I learned my lesson.” Ryan’s contented smile tells us he’s plenty reconciled to being married to Calandra. All the sex under the stars probably hadn’t hurt. “But if you’re not sure about Abby, break it cleanly and stay friends, so my wife doesn’t jump all over my case about it.”
The proud shine in his eyes when he says the words my wife have me and Austin busting up laughing. We have to hold on to each other, we’re laughing so hard.
Ryan tells us we’re assholes and walks out. But making fun of our oldest brother is why we get up in the morning.
I’m glad he’s back, so we can keep doing it.
Abby
When I pull into the driveway of the McLaughlin house off Central and Glendale, I gape, overwhelmed.
It’s an older property with a wide spread of land and towering old-growth trees. I live in a part of the city that was developed in the late 90s, the houses and apartments exactly the same, the landscaping sparse. This is Phoenix of a hundred years ago, when people sought shade and built houses with deep porches, in quest of coolness whenever they could find it. It’s an abode from the time before air conditioning and insulation changed the face of the city.
The house sprawls across the grounds in Spanish Mission revival style, which means lots of arches, stucco, and tile. It rises two stories, the second floor peeping out here and there instead of in one block. Bougainvillea, blooming in a riot of fuchsia, salmon, and scarlet, crawls up the walls in the sunny areas, and dark green citrus trees stand in a regimented line in one corner.
The drive is paved with brick and holds many cars and SUVs. A big welcome-home party. I see Zach’s pickup, and my heart sinks.
It took me a long time to decide to come. I debated about staying the hell home and preparing myself for a new life, but in the end, I knew I had to face Zach. I owe him that. Plus, Calandra would never let me hear the end of it when she found out.
I pick up the basket of wine and goodies I’ve brought for the returning couple, straighten my sleeveless dress, and leave the car. Zach mentioned that the pool would be ready for swimming, but I feel vulnerable enough without people staring at me in a bathing suit.
Noise leads me through a side gate to the backyard, which is humongous. More bricks pave the way to the pool, which shimmers in cool blue invitation across the yard. Another area of grass stretches alongside the house, and I can imagine the four McLaughlin brothers as kids running wild on it. Calandra and Ryan’s children will play there someday.
My heart is heavy, but I put on a smile and walk toward Calandra, who lets out a squeal when she sees me. Ryan, next to her, rescues the basket that falls from my arm while Calandra and I hug it out.
Calandra looks amazing. Her blue eyes glow, and she’s relaxed, happy. The way she leans into Ryan means the rest of us had been right. They were meant for each other.
I quickly embrace Ryan and start joking with the two of them so I won’t weep. I’m so happy to see Calandra and very sad for myself, but I hold it together.
Calandra links arms with me and we wander toward the open green, while Ryan totes the basket into the house. The yard is filled with people, mostly McLaughlins, including Zach’s Great Aunt Mary. The slender young woman Ben keeps staring at must be Erin Dixon, the temp Zach has told me about.
“So … you and Zach.” Calandra turns me around as soon as we’re out of earshot of the rest of the party. “Tell me everything.”
“Nothing to tell.” I shrug. “We’ve been out a few times.”
“Look me in the eye when you say that.”
I raise my head and meet her wise gaze. I slump. “I’ve fallen in love with him.” The words wrench out of me, and I know each one is true. “What am I going to do? It’s stupid. Our only connection is we knew each other as kids. Briefly. He has his own life. I have to get on with mine.”
Calandra’s smile vanishes as she feels my misery. “Oh, honey.” She gathers me into a hug, this woman who’s been my friend for ages. “There’s more going on, isn’t there? Tell me.”
I find comfort crying on her shoulder and don’t want to raise my head. Calandra takes hold of my arms and forces us apart. “People will stare. Stand up straight and tell me everything.”
She’s right, and I do. When I’m finished, wiping my eyes on a tissue she hands me, Calandra says sternly, “Go talk to Zach.”
I shake my head. “I know it will be over when I do. I thought maybe I could have this day to enjoy myself, and then tell him.”
“Nope. For one, you’re not enjoying yourself. You’re sobbing into a soggy tissue. Second, it’s not fair to Zach. I bet you were just going to wave at him today without saying a word, and then vanish. Easier for you, sure. But not for the rest of us.”
“Easier?” I wipe my eyes and let anger push away my sadness. “It won’t be easy to say good-bye to Zach, or to walk away from him. Believe me.”
“Why don’t you ask his opinion? Let me tell you something, honey, if you give Zach the cold shoulder, he’ll tell Ryan all about it, and then Ryan will be up in my face for letting my best friend dump his brother. I don’t want to start my marriage fighting about you two.”
“You don’t need to.” I draw myself up, smoothing my hair into place. “This is between Zach and me. No one else.”
“Then make it between you two.” Calandra softens. “Sweetie, if you hadn’t been a hard-ass with me, I wouldn’t be married to Ryan and so much in love. I mean crazy in love. I’m so happy I could scream. And I have, according to Ryan.” She grins, eyes alight. Any moroseness or fear she showed before the wedding has vanished. “So I’m going to be a hard-ass on you. Go. Talk to Zach. Now.”
She points at the house, finger rigid. I sigh. I don’t want to face Zach, but I know she’s right. If I’m not up front with him, I’ll regret it the rest of my life.
I seize Calandra in another hug, pointing finger and all, and kiss her cheek. “Wish me luck,” I whisper.
“You won’t need it,” she assures me, and I wish I can believe her.
I turn on my heel and march toward the charming, welcoming house.
Zach
I watch Abby arrive and almost immediately be enveloped by Calandra—I figure the two will want some time to hug, talk for a year, whatever.
Out of the corner of my eye I see her walk away with Calandra toward the grassy part of the yard where I spent my young years playing football with my brothers—it’s where I learned the art of the tackle and intercepting the long pass.
Calandra and Abby disappear for a bit, then reemerge. Abby starts toward the house, determination in every stride.
I make a vague excuse to Austin and my buddies and head to intercept her before anyone else can.
“Hey there,” I say when I reach her. “Glad you could make it.”
I never spoke a truer word. Seeing Abby after not seeing her for two weeks is like a warm spring after a long, cold winter. Talking to her on the phone every day has been fantastic, but nothing like being next to her.
Abby lifts her head, and I see profound sorrow in her eyes. I touch her arm. “What’s the matter?”
“Zach … can we talk?”
Uh-oh. The three little words no guy wants to hear. My chest suddenly feels like someone dumped a load of bricks on it.
“Sure,” I say, sounding stupidly cheerful. “Come on.”
I take her hand and sneak her upstairs. Well, not exactly sneak. Austin sees us go. He opens his mouth to draw attention, but he catches my eye and closes it again. Sometimes my little brother can be astute, and compassionate.
I lead Abby down the hall to my old room. Dad has long since made it into a library for himself, but whenever I need a retreat in the house, I gravitate here.
I close the door against the noise downstairs, additionally muffled by Dad’s books and desk full of papers. Abby starts to speak, but I forestall her by drawing her into my arms.
Am I trying to stop her breaking up with me? Or comforting her? Or do I just want to touch her, breathe her in, have her against me?
All three, I think.
“I quit my job.” Abby’s voice is muffled in my shirt.
I rub her back. “Oh.” We’re silent a moment. “Help me out here. Isn’t this a good thing? Or is it bad? Do I congratulate you? Or commiserate? If you want honesty, I think you’re better than that soul-sucking job that was making you unhappy.” I’ve already had some thoughts on that.
Abby raises her head, wiping her eyes. “Walking into Mr. Beale’s office and saying, more or less, You can’t fire me—I quit was awesome.” A tiny smile flits across her face.
“Then it’s a good thing.” I swallow. “Is this what you wanted to tell me? If so, I can jump up and punch the air now.”
She shakes her head, which brings back the specter of worry. “Brent also called me. You remember Brent? The head-hunter? Well, he offered me a job at his company.”
She doesn’t look as happy as she should. I tread carefully. “Okay, I’m supposed to say yay, right? He’s giving you an office with your own window and everything?”
“Yes.” Abby laughs a little, but that dies away quickly. “The window—it’s very important.” She meets my eyes, trepidation in hers. “The trouble is, that window, and the job, is in Los Angeles. I’m supposed to start on Wednesday.”