She holds up a finger.“Hold that thought… You can spill the tea in the car.Let’s go.”
Perhaps it’s the coffee or pain pills kicking in, but in the twenty-minute drive to the airport, I spill about the campout, Olly’s injury, acting as a parental surrogate at the hospital, meeting Carly, Maggie’s words, and the greenhouse.I tell her my plan to accept New Zealand and list the extensive benefits of that decision, reminding myself of them as well.
She grunts, pulling into a parking space at the airport.“Why do you have to go thousands of miles away to change the world?Why can’t you do that right here?”
I’m about to answer, but she bangs her hands on the steering wheel.“And screw Henry and Maggie.What about us?Dad and me?We just got you back, and we want you here.Can’t that be enough?”
I gape as my sister—the same sister who once described me to her friends as beingbarely related—tears up over the prospect of me leaving.She grabs a tissue from the center console, groans again, and checks her watch.
“We have to go,” she says, but stepping out of her car, her phone rings.She answers with a chipper, “Hi, this is Ivy.”
I meet her at the front of her car, and we slowly start to snake our way through the expansive parking lot.“Oh, hey… yeah, it’s fine that Marnie passed along my number…”
She holds the phone out between us and puts it on speaker.
“She’s not answering her phone.She cancelled her class.”Henry’s voice is bothered, rushed, but it’s a relief to hear it.“I shouldn’t have left her alone yesterday.We were both upset, but Olly needed me.I need to make sure she’s okay?—”
“Henry, it’s okay.Her phone’s MIA, but she’s fine,” Ivy chimes in while I shake my head to indicate that I don’t want to talk to him.“She, um, got a little carried away on Vodka Cranberries and took a sick day.”
The sliding doors open, and we’re hit by cool air and background noise.An announcement chimes over the loudspeakers, reporting a flight delay.
“Ivy?Did I hear the wordflight?Are you at the airport?”Henry blasts through the phone.“Is Venus there?”
“Um, yes, but no.Don’t freak out.She’s not running, Henry.I promise,” Ivy says.“But she can’t see you right now.She needs… I don’t know what she needs, but maybe time?”
“She’s taking the New Zealand job.Did she tell you?”
“Um, yeah.I’m not happy about it, either.But she hasn’t done anythingyet.”
I roll my eyes at my hopeful sister, knowing I won’t change my mind.
There’s a brief silence before Henry sighs.“I understand why she wants New Zealand.It’s unfair to ask her to settle for anything less.It’s just… I love her.I’ve always loved her.I’ll go on loving her wherever she is.Maybe it’s selfish—tell me if it is, Ivy—but fuck it… I want her here withme.”
His words are stern and decisive, sending an electric charge up my spine.Ivy gives me a sympathetic look while I shake my head, unable to hold these weighted emotions right now.
“Venus doesn’t hurt me or Olly—she makes us happy.Wewanther in our lives.She must know that.”
“Your mom isn’t the only one living in the past,” Ivy tells him, “but she’s wrestling with the facts, too.You know how she is, Henry.Big feelings freak her out, and she’s trying to ignore them so that she can complete an exhaustive mental analysis before reaching a sound and logical conclusion to her dilemma.She says she can’t accomplish that around you and Olly.It’s toodifficult.”
He groans.“I hate that fucking word.”The line gets noisy for a moment—it’s Henry using his inhaler.
“You okay?”Ivy asks.
“No,” he growls in a scratchy exhale.“I’m not okay.I don’t want Venusreasoningthis out.I want her to trust her feelings.To trustme?—”
My hand goes to the silky pink scarf in my hair, and how freeing it felt to let him have control, to love me as he wanted, to trust him.
“—Please, Ivy.Tell her I won’t give up on her.Tell her yesterday wasn’t goodbye.I’ll come there.I’ll leave right now.You don’t have to tell her.I’ll just show up.”
“No!Don’t do that.I’d break the fundamental laws of sisterhood if I betrayed her wishes like that.Sorry, Henry.But I promise to talk to her, and she won’t be alone.”
“Good.But wait, Ivy.Please, tell her… everything’s okay.It’s only a storm—we should hold each other through it,” he says, his words choppy.“It’ll pass.And I’ll still be here, wanting her.Always.”
Ivy’s eyes go as wide as golf balls as she glares at me over Henry’s sweet words.My eyes shut tightly, sealing the emotions inside me.
A short pause later, Ivy says, “I’ll tell her,” before the call ends.She slips her phone into her pocket, points to Dad’s arriving gate, and drags me through the airport.
I watch the exit gates, where the flight from London via DC has just landed, and passengers should emerge at any moment.The airport isn’t busy, but the buzzing glow of bright lights and the occasional drone of the speakers unsettle me, even more than I already am.
