33
Now
The door to the house from the garage opens and slams shut. “Happy birthday, you sexy little thing!” is shouted from the mudroom before a blur of curly blonde hair comes around the corner.
“So, I’m not sure how to ask this of you, but I need you to do me a favor,” I blurt the moment I see Walker.
She sets down the oversized white box she’s carrying on the kitchen island. “Okay . . . what kind of favor?”
I take a deep breath to try to gain the courage to ask her this. “I need you to shave my head.” My hand shoots up to cover my mouth like even I’m unable to believe I’ve just come right out and asked that of her.
Closing my eyes, I try to quell the tears welling in my eyes. “My hair has been falling out slowly—little bits here and there—but this morning when I woke up, there were large clumps of my black hair on my pillowcase.” I pause, squeezing my eyes shut like that’ll help erase the image from this morning. “And now, no matter what I do, I can’t seem to unsee it, or the look on your brother’s face when he discovered it.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get the look of Jackson’s eyes widening in concern out of my mind. Another moment that could’ve been beautiful was stolen from us and tainted because of my cancer.
I try to compose myself as my chin quivers and my eyes sting with tears. “I just need it gone. Today. And I was wondering if maybe you, and the girls if they’re comfortable, could help me with that? I’ve never really had a group of friends who supported me, especially not to the extent that you all have since I was diagnosed. And I figured if there was anyone I’d want to do this for me—to see me at my most vulnerable—it’d be you all.”
I stop my ramblings and fidget with my hands as I await her response.
Walker stares back at me wide-eyed for a moment before she blinks out of it and clears her throat. “Of course I’ll do it, T. I would never want you to go through that alone. Do you want to wait until Jax gets back?”
A lone tear slides down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. Shaking my head, I fidget and look down at my hands. “No. I’ve thought about this quite a bit today since he left earlier for practice. I think maybe I’d like each of you to take a turn cutting some locks with the buzzer. That way, maybe I won’t feel so alone? I don’t know.” I shrug my shoulders, shifting my weight from side to side. “But what I do know is I’d like to do it before Jackson gets home. He’s already had to be my rock and hold me through every hard moment I’ve gone through in the last four months. I want to do this with my newfound friends by my side.”
Walker closes the distance between us and wraps me in her arms. The moment my cheek connects with her fuzzy knit sweater, I lose all semblance of control. She rocks me in her arms as she whispers, “It’s all going to be okay. I’m right here—I’ll always be here for you Tae.”
And suddenly I’m filled with bone-deep guilt as her words settle over me. She was just a kid when I left Jackson and moved to Nashville, but Walker and I had a connection that was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister. I believe wholeheartedly that she’ll always be here for me; I just wish I could’ve done the same for her over the past decade.
I missed so many of her milestones, her successes, her highest highs and lowest lows, times when she could’ve used a sister to lean on all because I feared her father would ruin her brother’s future as well as my own.
From what Jackson has shared with me, Walker hasn’t had it easy the last five years. Her life may have looked picturesque on social media—living in LA by herself at seventeen as a professional dancer and model—but appearances can be deceiving.
“I missed you so much, Walker. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” I croak, stepping out of her arms to wipe my cheeks with the sleeves of my sweater.
“Shh,” she hushes me, rubbing a hand up and down my arm. “None of that. I missed you too, but you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
Our moment of regretful reminiscence is interrupted when McKenna, Dakota, Alexa, and Scarlett walk in the front door and hang up their jackets and purses.
“It’s too damn cold for mid-October!” Alexa complains, shimmying her shoulders in a shiver. “Oh, thank fuck. You’ve got a fire going!”
“Hey y’all!” Dakota greets us, setting down a large bowl and two bags of tortilla chips.
“Hey!” Walker tells her, stepping forward to give them each hugs before they step to me and pull me in for a hug.
Aside from Ryan, I haven’t had a lot of female friendships—or any other friendships for that matter. Over the years, I’ve beenburned quite a bit by people who pretended to be my friend but ultimately weren’t genuine. I quickly learned that fame and fortune aren’t all that it’s cracked up to be when it comes to making authentic, lasting relationships. However, this group is different. I knew that from the moment I met them. Hell, before that if I’m being honest with the way Jax talked about them.
“Hope y’all are hungry, I made a double batch of my mama’s cowboy caviar recipe,” Dakota tells us, opening the lid to the tupperware bowl. My mouth waters, and for the first time in too many weeks, something actually sounds appealing enough to risk the nausea that’s plagued me.
Walker opens a bag of chips and brings a heaping scoop to her mouth.
“Mmm,” she moans in delight. “This is so good. I need the recipe,” she demands, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.
“I’ll send it in the group chat when I get home. It’s pretty straightforward but my mama adds just a touch of honey to offset the acidity of the lime and vinegar,” Dakota explains.
Walker snaps her fingers and points to Dakota. “That’s totally it. This is by far the best I’ve had.”
“Let’s grab something to eat, and then I want to ask a favor of you ladies before we get caught up in our book discussions,” I tell them, setting a stack of rattling plates on the kitchen island. I shake my hands in an attempt to rid them of the trembling.
Kenna doesn’t miss a beat, closing the space between us when she takes me in. “Are you okay? You’re shaking. Do you need to sit down?”
