We’re all gathered at our dining room table for brunch on Sunday. Everyone except for Annabelle, who snoozes in her playpen a few feet away, and my brother Tom, who is with his wife visiting her family today. Even Bill is there, sitting next to my sister. “He’s been on his best behavior lately,” my mother whispers next to me.
“What is everyone doing today?” my father asks.
Bill and Joanna giggle, and my mom raises her eyebrows. “Anything you’d like to share with the group?”
My sister clears her throat. “Actually, we have an announcement.”
My heart stops. I’m pretty sure my mom’s does, too. I hear her fork rattle to the floor. Please don’t be pregnant, I pray. I mean, Annabelle is great and all, but I think that should be a one-time thing. At least for the next decade.
“Bill?” Joanna looks at her boyfriend.
“Tell them.”
“Well.” She pauses, looking around at each of us.
“Spit it out,” my brother Jeff hollers.
“We’re engaged,” she says.
“We’re getting married,” Bill says.
She slips something onto her finger—a gold ring with an amethyst stone. It’s pretty—good quality, too. My time at Trinkets n’ Things has made me kind of an expert on gems.
I glance at my mom. She’s turned a very funny shade of yellow, and I worry she’s not going to take this well, but then her face breaks into a big smile, and she leaps up, clasping my sister and Bill into a big hug. “This is fantastic news,” she says. “Absolutely wonderful. We need to celebrate!”
“Awesome,” my brother says, going back to his eggs.
“Today,” my father says. “Paige leaves tomorrow.”
My mother isn’t listening. She’s already in the kitchen, uncoiling the phone. I hear her chatter into it, to one friend after the other, as my father pours Bill more orange juice and my brother asks if Joanna’s knocked up again.
No baby. Just love.
“We’re having a party!” my mother calls.
“When?” Joanna asks. I can hear the glee in her voice, see the joy on her face. In the way she beams at Bill. She’s even being nice to me.
“Tonight,” my mother says. “Your father’s right. Paige should be here.” She’s talking with her hands now, moving closer to the door. “I’m going grocery shopping. You”—she snaps her fingers at my brother—“clean this up.” She gestures toward the table and then grabs her bag, swinging it over her shoulder. The door slams a moment later.
Annabelle wakes up, screaming.
“I’ll go,” I say.
I walk over to her playpen, and she’s standing, her little arms reaching up to the ceiling.
“Paige!” she calls, her sweet voice thick with sleep and sniffles.
“Hey, Annabelle Lee.” I pick her up, propping her on my hip. She lays her little head down on my shoulder, and one of her tears falls on my chest. “Guess what?” I tell her, my voice light. “Your mommy and daddy are going to get married.”
“Mary,” she echoes, hiccuping.
I sit down on the floor cross-legged and place her into my lap. In the other room, I can hear my sister talking about the wedding, how they want to get married next spring, maybe even at our house. My brother makes comments, my sister raises her voice, and my dad intervenes. It gets loud and then quiet and then loud again as Annabelle and I play on the carpet.
I used to only think about how different my sister’s life would have been if she hadn’t had Annabelle. How she would have gone to a proper college, maybe even done something she wanted to do like be a designer or an architect. When we were younger she was always sketching things. I rarely think about that anymore, though. It’s hard, with Annabelle here, to ever imagine she wasn’t.
That’s life. It just happens, and with it a lot of stuff you can’t take back. But the wonderful part is that often, the things that challenge you, that require you to use your whole self, are exactly those that are really worth it.
“Paige,” Annabelle coos again. “Book.” She points to a copy of Ducks Drive, her favorite picture book. I think it’s crazy, a bunch of baby ducks who also have cars, but she loves it. She laughs and squeals at the pictures like she’s never seen anything so spectacular in her life.
We read together until my sister comes in.
“Hey,” she says. “What are you doing?” She squats down on the floor next to us, and Annabelle puts her arms out to her. My sister scoops her up. “Hey, baby,” she says. “You having fun with Aunt Paige?”
“Congratulations,” I tell her.
My sister looks startled, like she hasn’t heard me right.
“I’m really happy for you,” I continue.
She smiles. “It’s not a movie. But it’s something.”
“Yeah,” I say. “It is.”
I don’t think we’ve ever had so many people in my house, and that’s counting the time my brother won the high school basketball championship and we had three teams and their friends over. I guess I never realized how many friends my sister had. There are people from high school, middle school, and kids who I remember teasing me in my backyard when I was just a kid. People she’s known forever.
Her friends shriek when they see her. My mother’s friends hover over the ring.
And then I see her. The mess of curls greets me first, the purple polka-dot sweater second. There’s only one person I know who could pull that off with red-and-blue-striped jeans. Cassandra.
She tucks her hands into her pockets as she reaches me. “Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I say. My heart is beating frantically.
“How are you?” she asks.
“Fine,” I say. It’s like we’re walking on ice, afraid to let anything crack. But I want it to crack. I want it to be real—not like this—not so light it’s like we’re not even really here.
I think about the last time I saw her, all those months ago, at the airport. About how I sped off without looking back.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” I say.
I see her face break into a smile and feel relief flood my veins. “Yeah?” she says. “I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me. I didn’t even know you were home.” She looks at her shoes. “Your mom called.”
My stomach stirs, a giant waking up from sleep. I feel my face get hot with embarrassment. I suddenly feel really stupid. The kind of stupid you feel when a belief you’ve held on to turns out to be completely ludicrous. There isn’t anything to argue. No defense, just I was wrong. I didn’t call. I didn’t let her know. It’s been my fault we haven’t kept in touch, not hers.
“I figured maybe you didn’t want to talk to me,” she continues, her voice small.
I shake my head. I feel my eyes fill up with tears. “I’m sorry,” I say. “You were right. I didn’t make enough of an effort after I left. I should have called more. I should have told you both how much you mean to me.” I feel a lump in my throat. It rises, hovers, like a body in a magician’s trick.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jake and me sooner,” she says.
“No, you guys are good together. It should have been you two all along.”
Cassandra looks at me, her blue eyes brimming with tears. “I’ve missed you,” she says.
“Me too.”
She pulls me into a hug, and I hold on tight. I can smell her LUSH perfume, same as always, and I close my eyes, wanting to capture this moment forever.
When she pulls back, we’re both teary-eyed. “How’s Jake?” I ask, swiping the back of my hand across my cheeks.
She links her arm through mine and leads me over to the buffet table. “Same. Crazy. He made me picket a pig farm last weekend. I had to take, like, twelve showers when we left. And then he complained about how much water I was wasting.” She sighs, looks at me. “He’s good.”
We spend the rest of the night holed up in my room, a plate of snacks between us on the bed. She tells me about Denise Albert’s nose job. About how Evelyn Membane got kicked out for smoking pot in the guys’ bathroom after school.
“I mean, it was after school,” Cassandra says, exasperated. “Why wouldn’t you just go home?”
I want to tell her all about Rainer and Jordan, but it would take too long to fill her in on the details. I don’t want it to be all about them. I want it to be all about us. And, actually, not talking about them feels good. Really good. It’s just Cassandra and me in Portland now. Normal. When it gets to be eleven o’clock and the noise downstairs has quieted, Cassandra stretches and says she has to go home. “School night,” she reminds me. “Some of us still have to climb the ranks before we are deemed stars.” She smiles. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She opens her bag and pulls out the book. The final volume in the Locked trilogy. The one I sent. “Here.” She holds it out and bounces it in the air, like, take it.
“I was starting to think you never got it,” I say.
“Oh, I got it. I read it in one sitting.”
“Well?”
“Well.” She smiles, the corners of her mouth turning up into a mischievous grin.
“Are you going to tell me how it ends?” I cross my arms, raise my eyebrows. “That was my only copy, you know.”
She frowns at me. “You mean to tell me you still have not read this book? Is there something wrong with you?”
I roll my eyes. It feels good to make fun of each other. It means we’re back to being sure of each other. “I wanted you to tell me what happens,” I say. “Just like last time.”
“Paige,” she says. “You know I love you. And I’d do anything for you.”
“Yes, so.”
“But.” She places the book in my hands. “There are some things you have to find out for yourself.” She pulls me into a hug then, the hardcover between us. “You’re my best friend,” she says, and there is something thick in her voice, something heavy.
“The best of the best,” I say.
She pulls back, her hair sticking out every which way.
“Oh, hey,” I say. “I have something for you, too.”
I go to my nightstand, and take out an envelope with tickets in it. This one isn’t my mom’s, though. No reminders here. Just things to come. I take two out. “I’d love it if you guys came,” I say. “I can get you airline tickets, too, if you’d like.”
She looks down at the tickets in my hands. “We’ll be there,” she says. “I would not miss it for one single thing in the world.”
She turns to go when I remember something. Something I’ve been meaning to ask her since I first landed on Maui.
“Cass,” I say, stopping her. “When you first filled me in on Rainer, why did you never mention Britney?”
She smiles, her eyes crinkling around the corners in little lines of mischief. “My argument stands,” she says. “There are some things you have to find out for yourself.” With that, she leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Later, Hollywood,” she says, and disappears out the door.
“We’ll see you in a few days,” my mom says when they drop me off at the airport. She hugs me quickly, and when she lets go, my dad hands me my suitcase.
“Cassandra and Jake are coming, too,” I say.
My mom smiles. “Fantastic. It will be a family affair.”
I give my dad a hug and then head toward the gate. A few people turn around and point. I leave my sunglasses on. It’s a strange feeling. I keep wanting to make sure my shirt is on the right way, that there’s no toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
It’s better when we’re on the plane. I settle into my window seat and take out the final book. I open it and start reading. And I don’t stop until we’re in L.A.
A greeter meets me at the airport and leads me to a town car, and we head straight to the hotel. It’s late. The air smells fresh, clean, expansive somehow. I know it’s not possible—LAX is too far from the ocean—but it feels almost like sea air. But I barely register any of it. I’m still reading.
I check into the hotel with my nose still deep in the book. We’re staying at the Beverly Wilshire, in the heart of Beverly Hills. I remember my agent telling me it was conveniently located and where all the press for the movie is going to take place. “That way you don’t have to leave,” she told me.
It’s three AM by the time I close the book, and when I do, I’m shaking. I didn’t see this coming. I’ve purposely been avoiding the Internet so that the ending wouldn’t be spoiled. I probably wouldn’t have believed this, anyway, though.
One thing is certain: August has made her choice.