I had a feeling Adleigh was dreaming wildly because it was clear what she wanted. She didn’t just want to meet our dad, she wanted us to be a family again. It was far too late for that, but as usual, I couldn’t say no to my sister.
She wasn’t wrong. We couldn’t go back and change the past. Hadn’t Charlie and I discussed something similar last week?
Ignoring the sick feeling twisting my insides, I heard myself say, “Sure. I guess. Tell him to text me, though. I don’t answer my phone. I’m not a freak.” I winked at her. “Make sure he knows.”
She laughed a careful, fragile sound. “Noted.” Then she smiled, and it was bright and beautiful and so happy. “Maybe we could meet him together? If you decide you want to. I mean, not right away, obviously. But maybe if we went together, it wouldn’t be so awkward.”
I felt a little trapped now. Screening a text wasn’t the same as meeting him in person. I didn’t usually have issues telling people no. Unless that person was my baby sister and her heart was set on a fairy-tale family reunion.
“Well, let’s see how texting goes first,” I said, trying to pull back. “If I even answer his text.”
Her smile turned knowing. “Sure, yeah, let’s start with that.”
In a desperate attempt to change the subject, I said, “Want to come over next week and binge some bad reality TV? Everyone keeps talking aboutVanderpump Rules,and I’m starting to feel left out.”
“I’m off Thursday and Friday. Pick a day, and I’ll bring donuts and mimosas,” she promised.
We stood at the same time, the mutual feeling of this chapter of our lives coming to a close. It hurt. Yet it felt hopeful. I wanted the absolute best for her in everything.
“I’ll walk you down,” I told her, not yet ready to say goodbye.
I grabbed my keys, and we made the trek down our four flights of stairs in a meandering, chatty kind of way we were familiar with. She checked the mailbox one last time and made a joke about the guy next to us who tried to use his first and last name on the small placard, but instead of getting either option centered, it just read “eff Tits.”
His name was Jeff Titsle. We’d thought he’d done it on purpose. It had taken us three months to track the real Jeff Titsle down. He was a forty-eight-year-old devout Mormon, so it turned out the name was a total accident.
Which made it our favorite name in the entire building.
Who would laugh at off-color mailbox names with me now?
We stepped outside onto the busy sidewalk in the warm June night air and grabbed each other in the tightest, squishiest, longest hug.
“I hate that we have to grow up.” She sniffled into my shoulder. “I hate that we can’t just be roommates forever and have sleepovers on the living room floor and eat popcorn for every meal.”
It was our childhood in a nutshell, and it forced me to close my eyes before water started leaking out of them.
“I hate it too,” I whispered, refusing to cry. “But we had a good run, Ad. Better than most.”
“I love you more than anything in this world,” she told me—which was usually my line.
This time, a tear did sneak out. I brushed it away before it could coax any of its friends to follow it. “I love you more than even that.” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Text me later?”
“Of course.”
Her car was parked in front of the building illegally, but she’d managed not to get a ticket or towed. I waited there, with my arms folded and my keys dangling from one finger, as she climbed into her junky Toyota and pulled away. Then I kept standing there as I tried to work up the courage to go upstairs and face my apartment all by myself.
Technically, of course, it wasn’t the first time I’d been in the apartment alone, but it was the first time it would be completely empty of Adleigh.How was I going to do this?
“What are you doing?”
I jumped out of my skin—and into orbit—and screamed bloody murder. Then reactively threw my keys down the block.
“What thefuck?” I growled in absolute terror.
Charlie smiled at me sheepishly. “I am so sorry.” But he was laughing, so it didn’t count. “Ada, I’m so sorry.” He showed this by retrieving my keys for me.
“You scared the ever-loving hell out of me,” I told him.
The planes of his cheeks turned rosy red. “I was on my way in and saw you standing here. Are you okay? I thought something might be wrong, but then you were just, uh, looking at the ground, so I wasn’t sure.”
