Silence stretches between us, long enough for me to wonder if she’s hung up. I’d deserve it if she did.
“Good,” she says finally. “Because Luna cannotknow we’re splitting up. I’ll tell her and my mom everything after she and Noah get back from their honeymoon. After we tell the boys, But until then…”
“We fake it,” I finish for her.
“Exactly.”
Faking it’s the last thing I want, but if that’s what she’s offering, I’ll do it.
I grab a notepad and pen. “What do I need to do?”
I can picture her even without looking—blonde hair twisted into a knot on top of her head, sexy reading glasses sliding down her nose as she flips through her planner. She’s probably standing in the kitchen, leaning over the island, or sitting at that tidy desk in the office. Or maybe she’s on the bed—our bed.
“I never got around to changing the reservations. You can just meet us at the gate Friday morning. Flight 2455.”
I want to drive us there myself. As a family. But… It’s better this way.
Safer.
“You’ll need to book your own hotel room in Long Beach,” Ashley continues. “Since I only reserved one.”
Separate rooms.
“Won’t your sister notice?”
“Everyone else is booked at the Hilton. It won’t be a problem.”
“Okay. When does the ship leave?”
“Saturday at four, but we board in the morning. At ten.”
I try to think of something else to say, something to keep her from hanging up.
“How’s Luna holding up?”
There’s the smallest hitch and then, “She’s fine. Excited. Everything’s fine.”
“Good.” I swallow, the word a lump in my throat. “Anything else I should know? Cabin numbers?”
“They’re being assigned, but I reserved two cabins. Adjoining.”
“Ash—”
“I can put my stuff in your room, just in case. But I’ll be sleeping with the boys.”
Another pause, wide as the Pacific.
“Sure,” I finally say. “Of course.”
“The boys are excited. I showed them videos of the ship. They can’t stop talking about the water slides.”
“You mean Max is excited,” I say automatically. “Blakey might be acting tough, but you know he’s nervous.”
“He says he’ll go down if I do.” There’s a quick laugh, bright and unguarded, and I feel it everywhere. For a second, she forgets to hate me.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say. We both know she's not comfortable swimming.
“We’ll see,” she answers, voice cooling again.
