“I’m sure you do. Well, Lewis Lemon, a stockbroker from New York, who our girl went on a date with once, didthat.”The fuck what?“And last night, while she was here, that motherfucker was texting her, insistent that he’d be seeing her this weekend. And she’s terrified. Ofhim.”
A swell of fury rises inside me, and a panic rolls through my veins. Fuck.Idid that.
Ifumbled her.
“It’s really not a big deal. I was on a date with a guy and had a piece of string dangling from my dress, so he used a pocketknife to remove it. Yeah. See? No big deal.”
No big deal. I just accepted that explanation, figured we could come back to it another time.
But there won’t be another time because Andrew Van said so? My brow wrinkles as I shift my weight from one foot to the other.
No. I’ve beaten him in everything else in life. He’s not winning this battle.
I breathe in the scent of the gym, feel the ache in my shoulder, and the even bigger ache in my chest. I think about flying to Vegas, sitting down with Isaac, and hearing what heand Nick have to say. I consider listening to Otis scream in his carrier when I eventually move back to Vegas, how the city doesn’t get dark, and how I miss touching real Tennessee grass, and answering the phone when Mom calls because she visited the cemetery alone and she’s sad. And hearing Jasper’s stories of meeting up with old friends at Patsy’s, and the videos posted online from the festivals around town, and not being able to show up at Mom’s on a random Thursday because she made chicken noodle soup, and not going to church in the desert because Violet Crowder isn’t there to chase me out the door.
Things slow down inside my head. Helping Hartley fix fence posts in the sleet. Cathy packing me picnic baskets. Jasper eventually marrying Markie and me hoping I can arrange my schedule to stand next to him while she walks down the aisle.
Why didn’t I see this earlier?
It’s like watching a flipbook, and everything just snaps into place.
Hartley is right. There is a way to fix this.I look around the gym and laugh softly to myself.And it’s right in front of my face.
“Listen, Gianna, I appreciate your enthusiasm and passion for this, but I need to go.”
“I’m holding you responsible for anything that happens to her.”
I laugh. “As you should.”
“Oh.”
I end the call. She’s mad anyway. Then I sling my bag on my shoulder and dial Isaac.
“Hey,” I say when he answers. “We need to talk.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Audrey
“Oh, this didn’t turn out so bad,” I say, turning side to side in the floor-length mirror. “It’s kind of cute.”
In my haste to leave Tennessee, I forgot the dress I’d planned to wear to Dad’s party. The silver lining about coming a day early was that I had time to shop, an activity that never hurts my spirits. A little boutique near my favorite part of the city had one powder pink dress with a low-cut back that dips almost to the top of my behind, and it fit like a glove.
My first thought was that Brooks would love it.
My second thought was to find a ladies’ room, so I didn’t get emotional in public. But I didn’t. I lifted my chin and continued with my day without shedding a tear. Because last night I realized something—I’m not sad about what I lost. I’m sad for what it could have been. We had the potential to be something very special. There’s something bittersweet about that because I truly believe there was magic between us, and I can’t accept that he didn’t feel it, too. Thinking he didn’t feel something real, even a spark of it, would require abandoning all logic and experience.I know what I felt. I know what I saw. All I can do is chalk it up to bad timing and try to believe that what’s meant for me will find me at the right moment.
“No more waterworks,” I say, slipping on my heels. The dress’s fabric is silky and smooth, and it’s easy to move around in. I figure something ought to be easy tonight.
I glance at the clock by the bed. Mom insisted on sending a car for me tonight, and I agreed only if no one else was picked up at the same time. The last thing I need is to open the door and find Lewis Lemon sitting in the back seat with his smarmy smile and obnoxious cologne.
Somehow, I wouldn’t put it past her.
I sat on the balcony of my hotel room last night and thought about a lot of things. I thought about Mom and Anna a lot. I can’t imagine what it was like for my mother to lose a child, and I’ve always known it would’ve been unbearable for her. She held my sister, I’m sure. There’s no doubt she loved her. If there’s one person in the world who actually knew Anna, it was Mom.
And maybe that’s part of the story I never gave enough weight to.
