Her mom smiled, her gaze distant. “I think the four of you are the very best part of life, but yeah, it’s good.”
“We’re happy for you, Mom, all of us.”
She laughed, standing up to busy herself in the kitchen. “Just as we’re all happy for you and Audrey, and will continue to be no matter where you end up.”
“Yeah… I mean, she’s already looked at jobs here, I spent last night looking at jobs over there. That’s kind of serious, right?”
“Maybe, but that’s okay. Real love is a serious business. Yes, it’s wonderful and worth taking risks for, but it’s the stuff you two have already been doing. It’s understanding each other, having patience, being there in the dark moments, and figuring out what works best for you both.”
Hallie nodded. She felt like she’d understood that from the moment she’d met Audrey. There had just been something different between them, something she’d never experienced before, and all of that stuff came easily. It made sense when it was with Audrey.
Love, it turned out, was a complex, many-faceted thing, but that made it beautiful.
Sitting at her mom’s kitchen island, it felt obvious. She’d grown up here, she’d sat at this counter and had a million conversations with her mom over the years. She’d experienced so much love, and she could now see all the ways it had grown and morphed with them. And that, more than anything else, told her everything would be okay. Love had the capacity to hold people in all that they were, it could withstand distance and change, the good times and the bad. Love held on through everything the world had to offer, so long as those experiencing it were committed to showing up and choosing it every day. And, when it came to romantic love, she finally was.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Audrey laughed as she walked up to her apartment, messaging Hallie back. Just like every day, they’d been in regular contact. The last week since they’d slept together—even virtually—had been different. They were together. They knew it, their friends knew it, Hallie’s family knew it. And they were simply trying to figure out how that worked for them.
For Audrey, it meant constantly fighting the urge to call in sick and fly back to Michigan to see Hallie. She never called in sick. It felt uncomfortable in her mind, like something she wasn’t supposed to do. Every day, she had to be on it, fine, available, reliable. Getting sick, when it applied to her and not to anyone else, was incompatible with that. She knew it was ridiculous. People got sick. It was human and normal and it didn’t mean anything at all, other than that you needed time to rest and recuperate. But, her parents had always been so angry when she needed to take time off school, so she’d internalized the idea that her getting sick was the problem, no matter whatshe knew to be fact. And, if her brain had ever been interested in being fair and logical, she wouldn’t be where she was.
Today, however, was a little different than the days that had come before. It was her penultimate day before Christmas break. Hallie had to work next week, but Audrey would be more available. They’d be able to call whenever Hallie wanted. Sure, Audrey would be spending some of the holidays with Zora and her family, but Zora loved chatting to Hallie almost as much as Audrey did, and, for the first time possibly ever, Audrey was hopeful about the holidays. She’d be sharing them with Hallie and Zora. It would be done via video calls to Michigan, but it was still time spent together. Zora’s family wanted to call Hallie’s family, and the Fullers couldn’t wait to spend Christmas Day with Audrey and the family that had adopted her in California.
Of everything that had come out of her recent trip to see her family, she hadn’t been expecting to realize just how much family she’d built outside of them, how many people loved her and cared about her.
Sure, her own biological family were still mostly giving her the silent treatment—something River said they were not remotely silent about outside of Audrey—and that small, scared child inside of her still wanted them to justloveher, but she’d gotten the Fullers. The guys had added her to the sibling group chat and they messaged her at least every other day. Tracy checked in too, just to let Audrey know she was thinking about her.
And Zora’s family… They’d had her over for dinner after her return to LA, and it had felt like family. They’d stood around the kitchen making cornbread and sweet potato pie together, gasping and nodding and laughing as Audrey gave them the rundown of her time in Michigan and with Hallie. And, most of all, they’d swallowed her up with love and concern when she’d spoken about her family. They’d known about the Sinclairs fora while, of course, but Audrey had typically brushed off talking about them in too much detail. This time, with her recent experiences with the Fullers still pulsing through her body, she’d talked, she’d been honest, and she’d been met with outrage and support.
Maybe she was losing one family, but she now realized she was gaining two others, and they wanted to know each other. Both of these families loved her enough to want to integrate around her. Late at night, when it was just her and the dark and the sound of Hallie getting sleepy on the other end of a call, that knowledge filled her up and overwhelmed her. She was so loved and she’d never even noticed.
And maybe the silent treatment was how her family finally disappeared, how she walked away from them after all this time. She’d spent so long feeling the need to be an adult, to talk about what was wrong, to give it everything she had. But she couldn’t be the adult alone. If the rest of her family wasn’t willing to meet her there, there was nothing Audrey could do. No matter how much it hurt and felt like she was failing, she had to let it go. She knew that now.
As she made it to her floor, she checked her bag again for the gift card she’d found in her mailbox that morning. Her excitement at getting to give it to Hallie was so consuming that her mind kept telling her she’d lost it, left it behind, that someone else was going to find it and use it. And she knew that wasn’t real but she couldn’t help checking.
It was still there. Tomorrow, she’d go before work to get it couriered to Hallie in time for Christmas. She was cutting it close but she’d been torn on whether it was appropriate. Now, with the way things were between them, she hoped it was. A gift card that could cover a return flight. Michigan to LA. It was a lot, sure, but she knew they were on the same page, and she wanted to see Hallie when she wasn’t in crisis. She wanted toshow Hallie how good life could be when she was healthier and happier. She just wanted to see Hallie. And she was pretty sure Hallie felt the same way.
Plus, if they were going to make the distance work, Audrey was more than happy to foot the bill. It was the least she could do for the woman who had lit her entire soul on fire.
She paused when her door came into view. There was a package waiting outside for her. Beautifully presented. Zora would have mentioned coming by—and she’d have simply let herself in and left the box inside. Audrey wasn’t sure who else would have sent her something.
The packaging gave little away other than that it had come from a local store. Audrey, however, did not know the store. She had no clue what they sold.
She picked it up and carefully took it into her apartment, placing it on the kitchen counter as she lay Hallie’s gift card next to it, being careful not to crumple it. She needed it to be perfect when it arrived.
The craft paper wrapping on the package looked almost too beautiful to touch. Clearly done by a professional, with a green velvet ribbon tied neatly around it and avoiding her address, it was one of the most gorgeous packages she’d ever received. But, if she wanted to know what it was and who sent it, she’d have to open it. She was of half a mind to call Zora and ask if this was her doing, but a sweet, hopeful part of her heart was telling her this wasn’t Zora. It was Hallie.
Carefully, and with her heart beating out of her chest, she tore into the paper and time stood still. A Polaroid camera. Hallie had sent her a Polaroid camera.
On the box inside was a small note, written in someone else’s hand but absolutely from Hallie:There are moments worth hanging onto.
Wasn’t that how every moment with Hallie felt?
Her mind raced, her heart ached, and her fingers tapped against her thumbs. The only person in the world she wanted to use that camera with was Hallie. The very first memories she wanted to capture, to hold forever, were with Hallie. And Hallie had promised they’d try a Polaroid camera out together. Via a phone call wasn’t going to cut it. Audrey wanted to use it in person. She wanted to take pictures of Hallie, pictures of the two of them together.
She pulled her phone out and called Zora. Every part of her was itching to do something wild and she at least needed to talk it through with someone else.
As it rang, her fingers tapped faster, her mind racing through her count. It was nowhere close to the way she’d been tapping and hoping and hurting the last time she’d booked tickets to Michigan. Still, she had to do it. If she did it right—enough—everything would be okay. Count to thirty-two, tap, and Hallie would be glad to see her, they’d figure everything out, her plane would land safely, she’d make it to Traverse City. They’d get to be happy and in love.
