“Yes…and no. We’re okay,” I hurriedly explained, because while itwasa heartbreak emergency, thankfully nobody was actually dying. I was so ashamed that in that moment, the biggest thing on my mind was that I would have to scratch out the pink-inked note about Mom’s wedding day in my planner. That the tiny diamond ring sticker would probably rip the paper when I pulled it up. That my perfectly organized planner would look ugly and ruined—not unlike the state of my mother’s relationship.
“Did you guys get to the airport okay?” Tyler’s voice interrupted my mental self-shaming.
I sighed into the receiver as I watched my mother curl up on the couch, her body shaking with unreleased sobs, not unlike an infant whose face turns all purple before letting out a piercing wail. “That’s the thing, Ty…I don’t think we’re going to the airport.”And that stupid diamond ring sticker is going to ruinthis week’s layout,I wanted to blurt, but I didn’t, even though Tyler would’ve immediately understood why that bothered me so much, because he’s Tyler.
The clock on the microwave hadn’t even hit five-fifteen before there was a knock at the door. When I swung it open, I was still surprised to see him there, even though somewhere deep in the chambers of my heart, I knew he would be.
“I got here as fast as I could.” Tyler yawned again, standing there in the purpling dawn with his rumpled pajama pants, hoodie, and a pillow-creased face. “How can I help?”
And while there is no medically documented cure for heartbreak—nothing but time, and wine, and ice cream, unfortunately—Tyler was the biggest help that day, whether it involved sitting on the couch with Mom while she vented her frustrations, or fixing her a mug of tea, or quietly lowering the volume on the TV after she dozed off watchingJeopardy!He helped me cancel the flight and get back the hotel deposit with no problems.
Tyler Ferris spent the whole day, from sunrise to sunset, helping me nurse my mother’s heart back to health, and he had no idea how grateful I was for it. I told him that much after dinner, when Mom finally slunk up to her room with a piercing headache, and he and I were sprawled across my bed, my head in his lap while his fingers toyed gently with the roots of my hair, giving me a much-needed scalp massage after a day of nonstop caretaking and stress.
I was certain that, after witnessing an entire day of my mother’s mental unraveling and the drama that was our two-person family, Tyler would want out. Or at least wouldn’t want to hang around my house anymore. But when I told him that it wasgetting late and it would be okay if he left, he looked down at me incredulously.
“You want me to leave?” He looked a little bit wounded. “But what if your mom needs either of us? I’m happy to stay, Ol—I already talked to my parents about it.”
“You talked to your parents about mymom?” I bolted up, and a hot lick of shame slithered across my face, and the shock on Tyler’s face let me know it was visible. I’d met Tyler’s parents before, and they were so sweet and somewhat sickeningly picture-perfect, the epitome of finding your soulmate and building a life with them. The complete antithesis of me and my mom. It was, to put it lightly, mortifying to think about them knowing the details of our life.
“No, no, no—I would never.” He reached out and grabbed both my hands, squeezing reassuringly. “I told them you needed me here today because you’re going through something. They said it’s fine, Olive. They know I’d never leave you if you needed my help.”
First the embarrassment of Tyler potentially telling his parents about my crazy, reckless mother, and then the mortification of being someone who needed help—it was too much. I’d pulled my hands out of his grip and started pacing my room.
“I appreciate it, I really do,” I said, and the words were true, even if it hurt to say the rest of it. “But I don’t need your help. This isn’t the first time she’s been like this. We’ll be just fine.”
I expected Tyler to be agreeable and leave, or, on the other hand, at least put up some sort of fight. But he did neither of those things. He simply leaned back against the pillows on my bed, nodding seriously. “Of course you’d be okay,” he said after a few quiet seconds, seeming to choose his words carefully. “It was nevera question about whether you’d be okay. I just didn’t want you to have to go through that alone if you didn’t have to.”
Oh,I remember thinking,when did someone light a sparkler in my heart?
I already knew I loved Tyler, but up until that moment, I’d never known what people meant when they said they fell more and more in love with a person every day. Once you’ve given someone your whole heart, how could you fall any deeper? But that was the moment I knew love wasn’t just contained in the four chambers of a human heart—it was a well with no bottom.
Or rather, with a veryfar downbottom—but eventually, pennies and wishes tossed over the edge would crash against the cold, dark stone below.
Life taught me that lesson, and fast.
I just didn’t know it yet. I still had the naïve belief that all wells were bottomless, catching your wishes and storing them safely. Not sending them down into a darkness they can’t climb back from.
Chapter Seven
Tyler sucks in a breath through his teeth, letting it out with a quietpop,jarring me out of the uncomfortable memory and pulling me back to our plane conversation. “I mean, Neil broke up with Sherri over adinner? That’s just brutal. Did she take it okay?” I can see the question in his eyes that he isn’t quite asking.Is she taking it as poorly as she did last time?
“She’s okay. Hurt, but okay.” I can still see her face behind my eyelids if I think about it, so crushed and hopeless. At least there was no sobbing on the kitchen floor this time. And Cranky Lady is nodding right alongside me, as if she could see it, too.
Tyler laughs quietly. “That still sucks. Worse than being broken up with in a school hallway, am I right, Ol? At least you had the decency to not get my hopes up over dinner first.”
Cranky Lady’s eyes widen and pinball between the two of us, piecing it together.Oh,her expression seems to say, quickly morphing from surprised to apologetic. Maybe she’s regretting not switching seats with me earlier.
Tyler grimaces, realizing what he laid out in the open, while I consider the chances of the emergency exit opening and sucking me into the stratosphere—and if that would really be the worseoption right now. Cranky Lady, to her credit, picks her magazine back up with one lastGood luckglance at the two of us, resuming her reading. Or not-reading. Either way, the shame is bubbling fierce and hard in my stomach.
“All right,” he mumbles awkwardly after a few painfully silent seconds, scratching the back of his neck. “Let’s just…let’s just agree not to talk about that.”
“Yeah,” I respond tightly, twisting my knuckles together in my lap. “I think that’s for the best.”
He huffs out a short laugh. “Wouldn’t want this flight to get any more awkward than it already is.”
Another thought dawns on me suspiciously then, and I turn to Tyler. “Why areyouon this plane a week before spring break? You don’t have a secret girlfriend hiding out in Waikiki, do you?”
The accusation just makes Tyler laugh as he shifts in his seat, absentmindedly clicking through the seat’s television channels to avoid looking at me. It’s hard to tell in the dim plane light, but I think his cheeks are a little red. “Nope, no girlfriend.” An odd rush of relief sweeps through me at his words, and I have to mentally poke myself and remember thatI am currently on a plane to Hawai?i to visit my actual boyfriend.
