I nudge his shoulder. “Well, I’m no Rhett Dawson.”
Everyone chuckles. Even the woman who’s taking a step forward and holding out a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a cream-colored ribbon toward me. A rare smile warms the apples of Caroline’s cheeks.
“This is for you.”
She got me a gift?
I’m a little taken aback. The last conversation we shared was mostly one-sided. I haven’t even had a chance to thank her for staying with Quinn on my behalf. If anyone should be offering up their gratitude, it should be me.
Julia elbows me when my lingering pause airs on the side of uncomfortable.
“Oh!” I gasp—from the blunt force to my ribcage or embarrassment, I’m not sure which. “Thank you!” I collect the box from her outstretched hand.
Quinn tugs on the hem of my sarong skirt. “Help you?”
“Sure.” I hand her the present, and she unwraps it in less than twenty seconds. Julia gathers the discarded scraps of wrapping paper from the linoleum floor as Quinn helps pull back on the top of a box. A curtain of tissue paper lifts with the lid, unveiling a leather notebook nested inside. My fingertips trace the gold letters of my first name embossed across the front. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
I can’t stop staring at it. Admiring the hand-stitched edging, but mostly the pre-meditated gesture. In the days since I last saw Caroline, she thought of me and cared enough to show it.
“A wise woman once told me it takes an honorable person to self-reflect on the ways they can better themselves. You deserve a fresh start.”
Wedeserve a fresh start,her gesture seems to be saying. Ithink back to our conversation in the entryway when I told her about how my marriage ended. I know I don’t need Caroline’s permission to have a place in Everett and Quinn’s life or feel worthy enough for them, but I didn’t realize how much I wanted her encouragement.
“I love it. Thank you,” I say.
“Is it time for my treat now?” Henry asks.
Post-show dessert is what I promised him in my moment of crisis. He was refusing to go onstage, so I did what I had to. I really need to get some better tips from Julia for helping him cope with his nerves.
“How about chocolate chip cookies?” Jane offers. “What do you say we all go back to our house? I think a little going-away party is in order.”
A going-away party.I don’t love the sound of that.
My goal today was to get so swept up in the talent show that I wouldn’t have to think about Everett and Quinn leaving tomorrow. Now that it’s over, I don’t have the distraction anymore. This might be the hardest gathering I ever attend.
37
EVERETT
Facing the symmetrical architecture of my childhood home, I take in the pitched roofline littered with leftover leaves from the fall. Black shutters frame the window of my bedroom—the only place I ever used to be me.
Everyone’s already gone inside, and I’m preparing myself for the onslaught of noise when I finally follow them.
The wind flutters the tulips tucked up close to where the siding meets the foundation. My mom’s hard work is blooming into season. A reminder that it’s almost summer and time to leave this place.
“Hey, man,” a hesitant voice calls, pausing my walk down memory lane.
Will is unloading groceries from the back end of Delilah’s Prius. When I make eye contact with him, he sets the paper sacks on the sidewalk and approaches me.
“Hey.” Compunction robs the joy from my voice. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the day he finished my studio, and the final person on the list of people I owe an explanation to.
“I saw the news.” He stops a few feet from me and tucks his hands in his Carhartts.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I don’t care about that. Honestly, it explains a lot. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Are you?”
Looking back, I think I’ve always known he’d handle it this way. I could trust Will. Seems silly why I didn’t tell him in the first place.
