“But how do we keep them safe?” Her eyes, like saucers, plead with mine as she points to the laundry basket.
“We’ll keep them inside until they’re fixed and big enough to defend themselves. Besides, I think Pete and Shelley will be thrilled to have them policing Brew.” She looks dejected they won’t be here with us. So I add, “I’m not an expert, but I think these types of feral cats will be happier hunting.” She nods once, twice, but her eyes are sad. “C’mon, let’s go inside and text Pete about them.”
Pete and Shelley are beyond thrilled about the abandoned litter. Their old cat, Smokey, just “crossed over the rainbow bridge,” and their boys have been sad about it. This information brings the light back to my girl’s eyes. Knowing she’s giving a gift to those boys trumps her longing to keep them. I’m relieved because, as much as I’d do anything to make my sweet girl smile like that, raising three kittens is not the move. With traveling down south and her carrying a full load for school, plus our regular jobs, I don’t see how we’d manage it. Fuck, I sound like a grown-up. When did that happen?
Almost two hours later, we’re back at home preparing dinner together. Between going to the local feed store for kitten supplies and bringing them and all their necessities to the DeLucas’, I’m now starving. But Pete, Shelley and the boys were ecstatic with the little fuzz balls. Seeing the boys with them made Ever so happy, she doesn’t seemat all sad about not keeping them. I’m relieved because I want to bring up her role in the McKay Method—which, if she’s into, will mean a lot less time for things like kittens.
We decide on camp tacos for dinner, which was just her dad’s way of saying taco salad. I grill chicken while she dices the vegetables. Now we’re taking turns tossing it all into a giant bowl when I decide to spit out the idea and hope for the best.
“Ever?”
“Julie?”
We speak at the exact same time. Then we both half laugh in unison, which makes us laugh again.
“You first,” I say, wiping my hands on the towel and giving her my full attention.
“No, you go,” she offers. I’m already shaking my head like I insist. “Okay,” she adds when she sees I’m not budging. “I’ve been thinking,” she continues timidly. I wait while she works her way around to saying whatever it is she’s struggling to say. I ignore the increase in my heart rate. “I think I picked a major.” Her gray eyes look unblinkingly into mine.
My heart rate settles. “That sounds like good news. What is it?”
“Sport and Exercise Psychology.” She smiles as she says it but looks like she’s holding her breath waiting for my reaction.
“Wow, Ever. That sounds amazing. And . . . kinda perfect.” I reach for her and wrap my arms around her. “Like you.” My wheels are spinning. For her and where this could take her. And us.
“Or I could just get the degree in psych with a minor in health and wellness. I want to use it to help people. Teach them to use exercise and fitness to deal with trauma. Like offer that at Fit. Or . . . at theMcKay Method.” She says the last part quietly with her cheek against my chest.
I pull back and can’t keep the smile off my face.
When she looks up at me, she steps back from my embrace and mirrors my smile. “What?” She looks skeptical, like I’m up to something.
“You’re not going to believe how perfect this is, but . . . okay, promise you’ll hear me out before you react.”
“The disclaimer doesn’t exactly scream ‘perfect.’” She folds her arms over her chest and waits for me to elaborate.
I offer what I hope is a reassuring smile. I’m beyond hyped by her news. I want her to be hyped by mine. I’m seeing our future roll out in front of me, and I almost can’t contain the excitement, foreign as the feeling is. I’ve never really looked forward to my future like this. At least not the way I am now. If someone would’ve asked me even a year ago where I thought I’d be at almost twenty-two, this wouldn’t have even made the radar. “It turns out people love you. The videos of us together are getting way more views and interactions than the ones of me alone.” I hold my breath and wait for her reaction.
Her eyebrows are up, her eyes wide and round, smile crooked, lifting on one side. She exhales through puffed-out cheeks. “Are you serious?”
I nod, grinning. She mirrors my expression. I don’t want to bring up socials and wipe it off her face, but she needs to hear it all to make the best decision for her. “People lovelove. That’s how Ashley’s team puts it. They want you to activate your socials.” I look down at my hands as I say it, but I raise my eyes to hers again when I add, “I told them that may not happen. It’s totally up to you, Ever. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I know. You always make sure I’m okay.” She reaches up and runs her nails through the hair on my forehead and pecks my cheek with a soft kiss. “I don’t love the social media part but considering where I’m at with my degree and career idea, it could be kinda perfect,” she concedes.
After catching her up on the rest of my meetings with Ashley, Ever reluctantly agrees she might need to activate her social accounts again. I can tell she likes the idea of taking a more active role in the McKay Method. I’m so relieved she’s on board. Maybe we can even find a way for her not to have her own social presence but a business one that’s managed by an assistant instead. Whatever my girl needs to feel calm and secure. I want our life to be a happy, peaceful one. And I’m cheesing like an unhinged weirdo as my brain thinks in terms ofours.The best part is her expression mirrors mine. I rub the spot on my chest, in happy anticipation this time.
Chapter 19
Everly
Roaming the Malibu farmer’s market is one of my favorite things to do when we fly down for business. Julian always tries to make time to take me. If we lived here, I’d be loaded down with local food items. Since we fly home tomorrow, I’m content to simply indulge on the spot. Sinking my teeth into the sweetest peach I’ve ever eaten sends my eyes rolling back, my lids closing and throat humming with a deep “mmm.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” The timber of Julian’s voice is low, for my ears only.
I open my eyes to see him watching me, his eyes a deep ocean blue. “Wanna taste?” I offer the peach to him.
He nods, never taking his eyes off mine. Ignoring the fruit in my hand, he leans over and more sucks than kisses my lips. Then, leaning till his lips touch my ear, whispers, “Delicious.”
I can’t help the giggle that bubbles in my throat and the heat that swirls in my belly.
