“Anne…” Joe’s voice had softened. His ears were red. He must hate this.
Too bad. I was past hearing. Past caring. “Nobody can live up to the memory of my father,” I said fiercely.
“I know.”
My throat was thick with tears. “Because nobody loves me like Dad did. He taught me what real love looks like. He taught me how to love with my whole heart, without holding back. Iloveyou, you jerk.” And now I was crying for real, hot, messy tears that welled from my eyes and streaked my face. “Which, given that you haven’t said you love me back, could be a terrible mistake. But at least I’m getting on with my life.”
“Except for the texts from Dr.Dick.”
“My life doesn’t revolve around Chris! I don’t care aboutChris. I’m talking about you taking a chance. Not settling. Getting out of your rut. At least I’m willing to put myself out there.”
“Good for you. Some of us don’t have that luxury.”
I swiped my snotty nose with my wrist. “And some of us are too afraid to try.”
He glared, his brown eyes burning, his jaw a block of wood.
I waited, raw and vulnerable. And when he didn’t say anything else—anything at all—I left.
—
Nothing grounded youin the present like babysitting a two-year-old. Hard to mope when I was jumping from cushion to cushion on Daanis’s living room floor, pretending the carpet was hot lava. But all that toddler energy was exhausting. I was almost relieved when Daanis returned from the clinic and I could hand back Rose and slink off to my destined-to-die-childless-and-unattached existence.
Almost. Maybe it was time to get a dog.
“How did it go?” Mom asked as I came through the door.
“Namid had a perfect one-week checkup! She lost a little weight, but Daanis says that’s normal for newborns.”
Mom glanced over the back of the couch. “I meant your interview. Didn’t you talk to Ed Olson this morning?”
I wasn’t used to Mom asking about my day. It was…nice. “Yeah. I reminded him about the snake incident in seventh grade and he laughed.”
“And…?”
“And…” I took a deep breath, controlling the jitters in my stomach. “I got the job.”
“Good.” Mom returned her attention toFamily Feud. “You’re all set, then.”
I nodded. Apparently our improved communication did not extend to chitchat. That was okay. For at least the next year, I had a chance to do the job I loved surrounded by people who loved me. I had time to figure out my next steps, to follow my own path, to write my own story.
Walking home with the sun on my face, breathing in the familiar compound of flowers, fudge, and horse manure, I’d been embraced by the beauty of the island, the blue of the water sparkling under the bowl of the sky, stretching to a limitless horizon. As I climbed the hill to the Village, I’d stopped to carry Mrs.Johnson’s groceries up the steps to her condo. Hailey and Liv waved from the porch of the Lipinskys’ house. I could have both girls in class next year. The web of connections cradled me like a hammock, holding me together. Turned out old John Donne was right. No man was an island. Or woman, either.
Which didn’t change the fact that I was in love with Joe Miller, and he didn’t feel the same about me.
I checked my phone, which I’d been doing every fifteen minutes for the past five days. Chris had sent a photo of the square near his apartment in Decatur, a statue of a globe surrounded by flying figures. At least it wasn’t a dick pic.
I tucked my phone away and flung myself onto the couch. “Mom…”
“Shh.”
Steve Harvey was quizzing the contestants on TV.“You’re old enough to…blank.”
“Know better,” my mother said.
Number one answer.
“Good job, Mom.”
