She shrugs like,you know,but I don’t. So I wait for her to tellme.
“You used to be your dad’s shadow. Whenever I needed to find you, I’d just look for him. He’d be on the phone, or working in the yard, watching a game—and you’d be right there.”
Mom hasn’t talked about Dad this casually in years. Even after everything, there’s still a softness for him in her voice.
“I used to feel so proud that I’d found that for you girls. Someone worth idolizing. But then he left.”
I expect her tone to sharpen when she says it, but it doesn’t.
“And then you left. And it made sense to me—the two of you back together.”
“Mom,” I say, feeling guilty though she hasn’t once asked me to. “We weren’t together. It wasn’t like that.”
“It would’ve been okay if it was. He’s your dad. You’re allowed to want him. To need him.”
I hadn’t realized just how long it’d been since Mom and I sat together like this. Her, the adult, and me, finally allowed to be the thing I was meant to be all along—the child.
“I haven’t applied for any jobs,” I say, setting the words free before I can think better of it.
Mom nods but doesn’t appear shocked by the subject change or the admission.
“Not one. I’ve tried. But whenever I think about walking into a classroom, and doing it again the next day, and the next day, forever…” Even explaining the thought brings a wave of dread, same as it always does. “It just feels like someone else’s life.”
“Maybe when you chose it, that’d been part of the appeal.”
“What, Dad? You think I wanted his life? Because I gotta tell ya, it leaves something to be desired.”
Mom smiles at my gentle ribbing. “Fine then, not his life, but his approval maybe. His respect, his love. Any of it would’ve made sense. And it makes just as much sense to want something different now. Something that’s yours.”
Mom pats the mattress beside her, and I join her. “Kai, I see the ways you’re stuck right now. And I get it, I’ve been there. Too many times to count. But you’ve gotta believe you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
“Completely lost?”
“Sure,” she says easily. “Why not? I’m fifty-two and just now figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up. And you know what it is? Happy. That’s it, that’s all I want. And it’s all I want for my girls too.” She wraps me into her arms as she says it, andI let her. “This life is long, baby. You’re gonna fall backward and start over more times than you ever imagined. And the only thing that changes each time is how quickly you learn to give yourself the grace to do it. It’s the only thing we get a say in. Might as well start practicing that part now.”
27
By the time the sundrops into Long Island Sound, Zola’s flitting across the beach, converting contacts to clients. I, on the other hand, am still nursing my drink from the makeshift bar. Someone’s got to make use of these rented boho beach cushions Zola maxed her credit cards out on—and Zo has no plans of getting off her feet and onto one. She’s made that much clear. Firmly. A few times.
I’m scanning the beach,just taking in the view, like everyone else.But when Liv spears me with the base of a fallen tiki torch, I know I’m caught.
“Why don’t you just text him?”
“Who?” I ask, pretending not to be startled by her presence.
When I last saw Liv, she was mid-water fight with her motley crew at the shoreline. I was so busynotwatching the entrance, I hadn’t noticed she’d made her way inland.
“Whoever’s got you glaring holes through Zola’s welcome signs,” she says, dropping onto the cushion beside me.
Liv adjusts the cutout of her one-piece so there’s more Liv peekingoutfrom thecut.Against her skin, kissed golden by the sun, and her hair creeping closer to platinum as we reach theheight of the season, Liv’s green eyes glow neon. “You think once he gets here, we can start having fun?”
“I am having fun,” I insist.
But her eyes flashingLIARleave me more exposed than the slinky string bikini under this cover-up.
“Fine,” I say, relenting. “But I’m only checking for him because he doesn’t know anybody here. I’m being a good hostess per Zola’s threateningly specific orders.”
“While I’d love to hear more about your hosting prowess at a party you’ve yet to speak to anyone at,” Liv says, rising from our sandy love seat, “seems like our guest of honor is making his way over.”
