“Hello?” a voice finally shouts through the speaker.
I hold the phone closer to my face.Why?Because I’m no longer thinking rationally.
“Todd? It’s Summer, Everett’s—” Would he want me to say girlfriend? He did tell me he loves me right before he left. Minutes after I told him I wouldn’t move with him though. “—nanny,” I finish, to be safe.
“Oh, hey, Summer!”
“Hi! Yeah. I was wondering if I could speak to Everett. It’s kind of an emergency.”
“Sorry, he’s in sound check right now. There’s a lot of moving parts in tonight’s production, and we haven’t had a lot of time to rehearse the set. But I could have him call you after the show?”
“NO! I mean, no. That’s okay.”
Shit.I switch to Plan B with new information.
I stop at the red light and drop the phone back to eye level to typeDeltainto the web browser. Ten seconds later I’m thumbing through flights.
“Actually, could you do me a favor? I need a ticket to tonight’s show.”
“Refresh it again,” Julia says.
I tap the bluegobutton and the information on the page repopulates. The same political updates as before load on the screen, but nothing about Rhett Dawson.
“Again.”
I glance at the driver’s seat. She’s smirking at the line of cars in the departure lane. “What? Something might have popped up in the last three seconds.”
“You’re not helping my anxiety.”
I’ve told myself at least a dozen different stories on our drive to the airport. The one where Brian shares Everett’s private diagnosis with a tabloid is right up there withWhat if I’m too late?andWhat if Everett hates me after this?Both of which I must have muttered out loud because Julia responds.
“He told you he loved you. He won’t hate you.”
I hope she’s right.She’s basing all her validation on my distracted rant of the last forty-eight hours while I simultaneously purchased a one-way ticket on a five o’clock flight. Excuse me if I don’t hang my hat on the three words the man said long before hearing how my vindictive ex-husband could wreak havoc on his life. I could be too late by the time I get there. I spam the web browser again. Nothing.Yet.
Julia parks against the curb, and I hand her one of two envelopes I acquired on my way over to her house. I keep the one for unexpected tips tucked in my purse. Old me would have never stopped at a bank after making this plan. I would have decided with a credit card in hand and left, to hell with the consequences. Now I think about the impact my decisions have on others. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had any other way to warn Everett.
“What’s this for?”
“For a place to stay when I needed one.”
She flips up the flap on the back, exposing the cash inside, and shakes her head. Then she slides it in the side pocket of my bag. “My home is your home. You know that.”
I pull it out again and shove it in her glove box.
She rolls her eyes. “If you need a place to stay when you get back?—”
I stop her with a hand on her thigh and squeeze. “No matter what, I have enough to get my own place now. But thank you. I couldn’t have survived without your support.”
She leans across the seat, wrapping her arms around me. “You never needed me. I needed you. That’s who you are, Sum. Someone the people you love can count on.”
Between the thirty-minute layover for maintenance repairs and Denver traffic to Empower Field at Mile High, I’m cutting it close. I called Everett’s manager again, warning him of my arrival time. Blabbing on about surprising my boss thanks to those glasses of wine on the flight instead of the emergent situation I intend to discuss with the guy I love.
Todd doesn’t know about Everett’s disability. If he did, Iwouldn’t be waltzing up to an outdoor stadium in a different state when I could have warned his manager about Brian’s tabloid threat over the phone.
Todd meets me at an unmarked service entrance I located from the map he texted. “It’s good to see you again.”
Winded from my sprint, I pant, “Thanks… for doing… this.”
