CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

NOW

REBECCA

Tap, tap, tap.

I look up from the computer in Amelia’s office where I’ve been responding to custom order requests all morning to see her in the doorway.

“You’ve got a guest,” she says.

I must do some kind of full-body jerk because Amelia’s expression turns soft and she shakes her head.

“No, sweetie, it’s not Ethan.”

She knew, of course she did, that I was hoping it would be him. Well, mostly hoping, and maybe just slightly dreading. It’s only been two days, but it feels like a lifetime since we last spoke and he left again.

At least I got a text this time.

Waking up to his message had been the perfect chaser to my hangover, one that ensured I suffered emotionally as well as physically the whole next day. Mom’s complete vanishing act since the engagement dinner disaster has just been the icing on the cake. I haven’t seen her once, but I know she’s been coming home because of the new table in the kitchen, with four skinny legs in the corners and extra clearance under the top. It looks nice too, not like the inexpensive, wobbly one she’d first gotten after the accident. There’s also a new ramp at the front door, solid and blending in with the design of the house instead of clashing against it. Every time I get home from work I notice other new changes. The house looks more in keeping with her design aesthetic, but why bother spending money to improve the accessibility when she knows I’ll be leaving for college soon? According to her, I’ll be much too busy to visit often so why not just wait a little longer and get rid of it all?

That last part of me that can still feel hurt by her wonders if it’s all just a show for John and Layla, but I don’t want to go there.

At least I know she’s not my guest. Hope blooms inside me again when I consider that it might be Neel, ready to be done with his space from me. When I raise my eyebrows at Amelia, silently asking who’s here, she just backs up, inviting me to go see for myself.

When I wheel out into the shop it’s to find John waiting for me. “Oh, hi.” My greeting is somewhat awkward because I haven’t seen him since the engagement dinner either.

John’s smile is dim for him, still plenty of teeth but not the full-watted grin he usually offers me. “Hey, sorry for showing up like this. Amelia said you might have a few minutes?”

I push over to him, trying to act like I’m not nervous over what brought him here. “Sure, what’s up?” Don’t say Mom, don’t say Mom...

“It’s about your mom.”

I make an instant course correction, using only one hand on my next push so I turn to the side instead of continuing toward him. “That’s not really something I want to talk about with you.” Or anyone, but since he’s the only one asking...

The truth is I’ve thought a lot about my mom in these last forty-eight hours, and while my face flames hot when I remember—vaguely—some of the things I said and did that night, I can’t wholly regret them. I haven’t been able to tell her how I’ve been feeling since—forever. I don’t like that I messed up the engagement dinner or upset John, but at least she knows now, at least I got to tell her.

Some of it anyway.

“Hey now,” he says, in that soothing deep timber of his. “We’re family, or we’re going to be in a few days. We got to be able to talk to each other.”

I stop and glance over at him. “There’s a lot between my mom and me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking to know all of it or anything you don’t want to tell me.” He hesitates then points at the wheelie stool beside me, asking permission.

I nod even though I really, really don’t want to have this conversation with him. Unlike my mom, John isn’t the type to let a situation resolve itself or hide from something he may have done wrong. If I don’t hear him out now, he’ll just keep coming back.

The stool is too small for him, most things are, but he doesn’t comment as the metal creaks under his weight. We both hold our breath for a moment waiting to see if it will hold. Finally, John lets out a low laugh.

“Well, that was close.”

“I’ll make sure we get a better stool in here for you.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

“No,” I say more firmly. “You should have a place to sit when you come here. We’re kind of big on making sure everybody is accommodated here.”

He looks at me, then nods. “You’re right. That’s important. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighs then rubs his hands over his thighs. “I guess that’s as good a transition as any for me saying I’m sorry. The restaurant the other night was...well, I should have said something as soon as we got there even when you didn’t. Joanna was only thinking about me and Keri and how we’d had our first date at Antonio’s, not about how challenging it would be for you. I forget sometimes that you’re still just a teenager, and you shouldn’t have to advocate for yourself alone all the time, especially not with somebody like my sister. Can you forgive me?”

Short, to the point, and sincere. I hadn’t thought I needed an apology from John, but hearing it from him, I realize I do, that part of me was hurt that he’d let it happen. It paled in comparison to how I felt about my mom’s role, but John is my friend and he should have done better by me.

“Yes,” I say. “Thank you.” It’s a little stiff as far as accepting apologies go, but it’s what I can give right now. Plus, I know he’s here for more than that, and when he finally gets to it, I kind of wish I’d stayed hidden in the office.

“Good,” he adds with a pat on my hand that is equal parts nerdy and sweet. “Because I have a favor to ask you and it’s a big one. I want you to make your mom’s wedding band.”

I slip my hand free with more than a little effort. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

I gawk at him. “Really? How about because we barely talk? Or she’s counting down the days until I’m out of her house?” Those big hands reach for mine again, but I pull them back. “No, it’s okay. I’m not saying any of this for pity, just so you’ll understand why you shouldn’t ask me to make her ring.”

John doesn’t really understand how things are between my mom and me. He thinks he does, but we only ever show him our best behavior. We hide the ugly truth from him as best we can because we both care about him even if we can’t care about each other. My chest goes impossibly tight. “She won’t want it if it comes from me.”

“You know that’s not true—come on now.” He shakes his head. “You and your mom are very different people and that means you love in different ways too. Your mom has never once let me hold her hand in public, but she brings me lunch every Tuesday from Julio’s even though they moved forty-five minutes away. Last year, she spent months helping me track down this antique dollhouse for Layla’s birthday and somehow found one that looked almost exactly like the one my grandmother had. Layla still randomly hugs her for that and she’s getting so much better at letting her.”

“And that’s great for you and Layla,” I say, trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. “But it’s not like that with me. I don’t need lunches or dollhouses and she wouldn’t try to give them to me anyway, not anymore.”

John’s face turns soft. “I won’t pretend to know what these last couple years have been like for you both, but from what I see, you both want the same thing, and I think this wedding ring could be a way for you to reach her.”

I suck in a shaking break. “Reach her? I’ve tried so many times. Why isn’t she reaching for me?”

“Are you so sure she isn’t?”

I try to laugh, but it comes out more like a cry. “I’m sure.” The engagement party erased any doubt I had left.

“She’s not like us, not like how I understand your dad was. This—” he scoops up my hand again before I know he’s going to “—is easy for us. To tell people we love them, to show them. To let them in when we hurt or we’ve hurt others.”

“It hasn’t felt easy for me,” I whisper.

“I know, but you keep trying.” He squeezes my hand. “You’ve got that from your dad and it’s not going anywhere.” The stool creaks when he stands, forcing me to crane my neck way back to look up at him. “I love a lot of things about you, but that one’s right at the top.”

“It won’t matter. A ring isn’t going to make her talk to me. And I’m not the only one who can try.”

“That’s true.” He kisses the top of my head. “That’s very true. But we’re about to start something big with this wedding and I think it could be a fresh start for all of us, especially you and your mom. Might be worth everyone trying one more time, hmm?”

Amelia gives me plenty of space once John’s gone, leaving me alone with thoughts that refuse to dissipate until I pull out a piece of paper and start sketching. The ring design doesn’t come easy which is why, when my phone rings, I answer it even though I don’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey, yeah, I wasn’t expecting you to pick up. Nobody answers phones anymore. Is this Rebecca?”

I don’t know the man’s voice. “Who’s this?”

“Bauer. I’m Ethan’s...well, it’s kind of complicated. I don’t know if he’s told you about me, but I’m—”

“You’re his dad.”

I hear a big, relieved sigh from Bauer. “He told you. I wasn’t sure, but I figured if he’d talk to anybody it’d be you. He’s still upset about it, huh?”

I glance over to make sure Amelia is busy and hopefully not listening. “Um, he’s...actually, he’s not really a fan of people talking about him.”

Bauer laughs. “Yeah, I noticed. Touchy little dude sometimes. Not that he’s little anymore. I don’t know where he’s getting the height from ’cause nobody’s dunking on my side, you know? Hey, you don’t know if anybody’s tall on Joy’s side, do you?”

“I—His grandfather, I guess.” I frown. “And how did you get my number?”

“Ethan wrote it down on a piece of paper he left at my house. See, his phone died last time he was here and he couldn’t remember anybody’s number, and I know he would always want to be able to call you if that happened again. Oh, and he didn’t have a charger. Did I say that part?”

“I’m sorry, but is there a reason you’re calling me?”

Another laugh. “Oh yeah, I was just wanting to check in on him. Make sure he got back and everything’s okay. I keep calling but he never answers.”

It doesn’t feel like talking about him to let Bauer know this little bit. “He made it back fine, but he left again a couple nights ago. Said he was staying with friends.”

“Friends? Where, in Arizona?”

A pit starts to form in my stomach. Ever since getting his text I’d been slamming the brakes on my thoughts whenever they tried to stray toward Ethan. He’d said goodbye and that he needed some time. Since I did too, I’d been more than happy to give it to him. But I hadn’t thought about where he was, not really, or what friends he might be staying with. “Hold on, let me check with somebody.” I put Bauer on speaker and text Neel.

Neel responds right away.

“Hello?”

“I’m still here,” I tell Bauer. “Texting a couple of his friends.”

“Anything?”

“Nothing,” I tell Bauer, keeping my messages open but thumbing to my last conversation with Ethan. “Who would he stay with in LA?” That pit grows larger when I realize how little I know about Ethan’s life away from here. He must have some friends, but is he close enough to any of them that they’d let him crash for a while?

Bauer makes a sound like he’s blowing all the air from his lungs. “You’re the only person he ever talked about besides his mom. Can’t you call him? Or text him? It’s not like he’ll ignore you, right?”

I reread Ethan’s message and his request for time. I hadn’t responded even though I know he wanted me to, even just with an okay. It would have been a sign, a gesture that this time apart wasn’t final. And I hadn’t given it to him. Once I finally let myself be mad at him, it was harder than I thought to stop, even when I wanted to. Even when I knew I’d hurt him too.

“He, um, might not answer me either.”

“Ah, so you guys are on the outs too?” Bauer says after a moment. “You know it’s probably my fault. He left my place like a bull in a china shop, ready to charge anything that got in front of him. I’m guessing that was you.”

I stare at my phone. “It wasn’t your fault. It was us, and a lot of things that we’d been trying to hide from for years.” From the very beginning, if I’m being honest. I made that choice to smile the first time he came back instead of telling him it hurt that he just left without saying goodbye. All these years, those missed goodbyes built up until this last one brought them all crashing down.

It’s all such a mess now, anger tangled with regret and sadness. But I don’t know how to forgive him for breaking his promise this last time when it still hurts so much. Even though I’m breaking a promise too. I wasn’t coming back after our fight and finding a way through. I wasn’t even returning a text. Was that my way of hurting him back?

When all he had to do was say goodbye?

And all I had to do was say hello?

My thumbs hover over the screen, but I bite my lip, hesitating. That anger, that hurt, it’s still there right at the surface, ready to spill out again from the slightest cut. But it isn’t the only thing there.

I wait, holding my breath. But unlike Neel, there’s no immediate response.

“Nothing, huh? Could be his phone died. Kid never has a charger.”

I don’t think that’s why though, so I stay silent. And angry. And other things that dig that pit inside me deeper and deeper...

I take Bauer off speaker. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I know where he is, but you’re the only one with the address.”