“School’s good. We beat West End, so we’re going to district.”
“Did you find any trash on their field?” The sound of his laugh made her smile.
“Yeah, the interception I threw on fourth and goal. Pure trash.”
“But you won?”
“We won.”
“That’s good.” She lowered the phone to cover a deep inhale, the one intended to guard against Caleb’s warm, comforting voice. She felt fragile, like she’d break if she spoke one more word.
“Em, you okay?”
She cleared her throat. “Y-yes.” But then she started to tremble with heavier tears.
“Hey,” he said. “I was on my way to meet you that night. I wasn’t blowing you off or anything.”
“It’s fine. Probably worked out for the best.”
“Yeah, probably.” She waited for him to say good-bye. “How was your birthday?”
“Fine.” Emery pressed her fingers under her eyes to stave off the tears. “Mom threw me a party. At least she tried. Dad and her friends ended up taking over. Then she died three days later.”
“Man, that’s rough. Sorry, Em.”
“I know.” She caught a solo tear slipping down her cheek.
“I bet the party made her happy.”
“It did, and we had fun.” Emery focused out the window where clusters of dried leaves skipped over the lawn. “I should go.”
“Yeah, of course. Hey, Em, I was thinking ... maybe I can road-trip to see you. With Shift riding shotgun. He asked about you.”
“No, Caleb, don’t ... I-I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Oh, okay, sure, but if you ever—”
“Have a nice life, Caleb. I mean it.” She hit end before he blurted out something irrational like“I loveyou.”Because she’d felt love the moment she heard his voice. But being with him was impossible. Besides living a thousand miles away, she associated him with the saddest time of her life. But he also made her happy, and she didn’t want to be happy. Not for a long time to come.
* * *
Now . . .
“Rough day?”
Emery twisted around to see Delilah joining her on the beach, where she sat on a copy of theSundayRoyal Gazette.
“I’m not good company right now, Delilah.”
“Sometimes it all comes crashing down, doesn’t it?” She kicked off her flip-flops and buried her feet in the sand.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Emery said, irritated Delilah had settled next to her.
“The images of Friday night, along with your story, were beautiful. I hardly noticed the ad holes.” To this, Emery scoffed. “You did more than most, Emery. You tried to help Sea Blue Beach by inviting the royals.”
She glanced at Delilah. “I’m a square peg trying to fit a round hole.”
“I wanted a baby,” Delilah said without any segue, and Emery was suddenly rescued from her downward spiral. “I’d just turned thirty, and after twelve years of singing in smoke-filled clubs, meeting Samson, hitting it big, touring the world, I ached to be a different Delilah Mead. A wife. A mother. Samson and I had created so much together that a child felt like a natural extension of us.”
