Ji and I laugh.
“A banana leaf?” I ask.
“Yes. Is there anything more authentic than the host ofSunsets and Sabotagesigning a banana leaf from Sabotage Island?” She sets both of her hands on my shoulder, her green eyes boring straight into mine. “Don’t let me down, Missy.”
I raise my fingers in a salute. “One Niall Bose banana leaf coming up,” I promise with a little laugh before embracing my two best friends in a triangle hug, heads huddled, like we’ve done since we were teenagers in high school.
Soon after, I make my rounds, smiling wide and letting each and every person know how wonderful it is to see them there, including Miles’s new girlfriend, Katie, whose larger-than-life personality is matched only by Miles himself.
Eventually, I step back from the group long enough to spot Colton embracing his uncle on the opposite side of the farewell party. In a moment of weakness, I find myself scanning the crowd for my own blood relations and come up empty-handed. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is the abundance of friendly faces around me. But just as I’m looking at the sunny side of the situation, a subtle ache throbs in the center of my chest. The same ache I’ve tried dutifully to squelch for years.
Unlike this unexpected send-off at the airport, I’m not the least bit surprised to find that my aunt and uncle are not here. Though they’d served as my guardians, and my pseudo parents, ever since they brought me to Pine Lakes, I knew that traveling forty-five minutes to the airport to support me was not on their to-do list, nor had it been for the better part of a decade.
When I first came to Pine Lakes, Aunt Candice and Uncle Ray were everything sweet. They helped me transition into their home and to my new school with ease, even taking the time and means to integrate me into their children’s pageant-heavy lifestyle. But the moment I started winning pageants over my cousins was the moment things went downhill. Aunt Candice got progressively icier, deciding not to pay for pageant fees like she did for her daughters, talking negatively about me to her friends, and eventually excluding me from family dinners. Needless to say, when Aunt Candice found out I was chosen to go onSunsets and Sabotage, she was none too pleased. Not when I was succeeding when she was so obviously hoping I would fail.
I push past the bitter pain and rechannel my energy toward the crowd of friends surrounding me.Dwelling on something beyond your control will never brighten your day, I tell myself.
A moment later, I am bulldozed by the sweetest little surprise.
“Izzy!’ I hug the bright-eyed girl who wraps her arms tight around my torso and rest my head atop her spirally black curls. Who knew someone so adorable could be related to Colton Downing?
I take a step back. “Izzy! It’s so late. I didn’t know y’all would be here,” I say to Colton’s little cousin and her mom standing behind her.
My insides light up like an afternoon sky seeing my favorite middle schooler’s confident smile beaming back at me. It feels like just yesterday that she’d come into her pageant lesson with her eyes on the ground and a slump to her shoulders. She was clearly uninterested in pageantry and hardly spoke five words to me the entire lesson. The very next class, I set my pageant notes aside and spent time finding the real Izzy. Come to find out, she was a wiz in the lighting booth at The Red Curtain, and that’s when things changed for her. She became a lighting technician for her school play, found some true friends in the drama department, and started letting her beautiful light shine. Seeing her confidence do a one-eighty in the time I was with her was one of the most rewarding life experiences.
“You’re going to be amazing!” Izzy declares. “I’m going to be watching all the time. Mom says I can have extra screen time this month just to watch you and Colton win.”
Not able to resist, I fold Izzy into another big hug.I’ll win this for you, Izzy girl, and all the others like us that just need a nudge in the right direction.
After Izzy and her mom say goodbye, I start looking for Colton, knowing he and I should probably head to the security line soon. Missing our red-eye would not be a good start to our journey.
When I finally find him, he’s saying his farewells to his parents. Colton’s back is to me, but over his shoulder, I have a clear shot of Senator Downing’s lackluster expression. Theformer senator stands several inches taller than Colton in his expensive gray suit and burgundy tie. Between his height, his ice-blue eyes, and the subtle hints of gray hair that pepper his head, Senator Downing is the picture of intimidation.
And while the senator’s never been the cuddly, teddy bear type, he’s certainly the cordial, model-citizen type, with a smile that makes people feel like their taxes are being put to good use. But tonight, his flat mouth and disappointed gaze are homed in on Colton. The stare alone feels too personal, and suddenly I feel like an intruder on this father-and-son moment that has my skin rising up in unpleasant bumps.
Eesh. For the first time in my life, I’m grateful I never knew my daddy. Because if he’d looked at me with that level of disappointment, I’d be content to melt into the ground, happy to be trampled on all my days by unsuspecting airport goers.
What could the golden boy possibly have done to earn that look? I try my best to glance away from the scene, but I can’t. I’m Southern. If curiosity killed the cat, then the South is just a bunch of ghostly felines. Against my better judgment, I stay put in my secluded spot behind Colton’s broad shoulders and pretend to adjust the drawstring on my water-resistant shorts.
“Remember, Colton. Don’t forget you’re a Downing.” It’s a simple sentence, but the pointed way the senator says it makes it seem like it has more layers than Ji’s Easter trifle.
“Don’t worry, Father. I never have, and I never will,” Colton says flatly.
“James,” Mrs. Downing says, turning to her husband and piercing him with a meaningful stare.
Senator Downing clears his throat, looking like he’s just choked down a particularly fatty piece of meat. “And good luck.”
Colton nods in response, just as Senator Downing leans closer to him, amending his parting words. “Don’t forget what we agreed on.”
With that, Senator Downing steps away, greeting one of Colton’s old math teachers with a firm handshake.
My brows peak with curiosity. Well, if that isn’t the worst sort of cliffhanger. Now I’m dying to know just what it was that had Senator Downing talking in such a low, secretive voice and what it was they “agreed on.” But I’d rather play hopscotch on the back of a great white shark before asking Colton or his father such a personal question, so I do my best to put it out of my head.
Mrs. Downing steps closer to her son, placing a hand on his cheek. “Just be someone that you’re proud of, Colton.”
Colton leans down to hug his mom. I take that as my cue to dart out of the way before Colton catches me lingering like the eavesdropper I am. But before I do, Mrs. Downing sees me and calls my name. “Missy.”
She glides in my direction, a picture of buttoned-up perfection with her deep-green eyes, plum-colored tweed suit, and a beautiful set of pearls around her neck. Then her arms wrap around me, folding me into her warmth. Her heartfelt hug catches me off guard, and I find myself wanting to sink further against her soft brown hair. In her motherly embrace, the phantom pains of old wounds resurface. Too soon, I step back.
