“So maybe he’ll make it to the beach this year,” I say, because my heart seems to actively rally against my mother’s realism at all costs.
“Honey, I thought I told you, we’re not going to Maine.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s too much, and I can’t rely on your sisters.”
I frown as I ease off the freeway. “You can count on them.”
“Oh, I know. I know they’ll come with me and they’ll help me with him and won’t leave our side.” She sighs and it’s heavy. It’s always heavy. Growing up, my mom never sighed. “I meant I can’t rely on them because I won’t let myself. Your dad doesn’t want to either. It would ruin their vacation. I told them to go ahead and use the cottage without us this year.”
I get that feeling I always get when we talk about my dad’s declining health. I feel like I did that time I had a concussion and I had to have a CT scan and they put me in that damn tube. I hadn’t realized I was claustrophobic until that second. Being in that tube made me feel panic like I’ve never felt before. This irrational, uncontrollable clawing fear tore at my insides—my heart, my brain, my lungs—everywhere. And I was fully and completely aware that I could not do a damn thing to stop it, and that made it worse.
I swallow hard and pull as much air as I can into my lungs, working to let it out slowly so my mom doesn’t hear it. I don’t want her to think I’m about to freak out, even though I am. “Mom, I told you I can hire a nurse. She can go with you and help Dad out so the sorority doesn’t feel like they’re responsible. And I’ll swing by for a weekend. It’ll give you some time off.”
“I don’t need time off from my husband, Jude.” Her tone is pointed, but only for a second. She knows I didn’t mean it that way. “It’s very sweet of you to offer, but hiring a private nurse to travel with us would be obscenely expensive.”
The players’ entrance to the arena is just up ahead, so I start to slow down. “Ma, I don’t know if you got the memo, but I’m a millionaire.”
She laughs like she always does when I bring up my financial situation. I still can’t tell if she’s doing it out of disbelief that her only son is absurdly wealthy, or because it makes her uncomfortable to think about all that money, but either way it’s cute. My mom and dad lived a barely middle-class life supporting four of us and all our extracurricular activities on the salary of a high school teacher and a bus driver. Wegrewup in a small three-bedroom house in a so-so suburb of Toronto, meaning all three of my sisters shared a room until the fighting got to be too much and Dad renovated the attic.
The cottage in Maine was honestly where we lived like kings. It was owned by my dad’s family. His grandparents had bought it and left it to his dad when they passed. Dad spent his childhood summers there and made sure we did the same. It wasn’t fancy—in fact it was rustic. Four small bedrooms up a rickety staircase. One downstairs, sandwiched between an archaic bathroom and an ancient kitchen. But we loved it. All of us. We never fought at the cottage. We never complained about chores like washing dishes or cleaning our rooms. We spent all day at the beach and all night running around the safe, small seaside town so my parents also got a break from us.
“Dad loves that place,” I remind her, even though I know she hasn’t forgotten. “And by next year he really might not be able to go, even with a nurse, so he should go. You should all go. I’ll be upset if you don’t.”
She sighs again. God, I hate that sound. “I’ll consider it.”
I swipe my pass at the gate, and the barrier moves upward. I see Levi leaning against the back of his G-Wagen as I pull into a spot. “Okay. Thanks. Just keep considering it until the only answer is yes.”
She laughs at that. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I am. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up and turn off the engine. I glance at Levi in the rearview mirror, since I parked directly across from his car. He’s tucking his phone into his pocket and is slowly walking toward my car. I jump out, hit the lock button and meet him near the trunk. “Hey. Did you just get here?”
“I got here about ten minutes ago but thought I would wait out here for you,” Levi explains, shrugging. “Dixie won’t go off on you for being late if we both are.”
I glance at my phone for the time and then shove it in my back pocket. “It’s only like ten after one. It’s only late if it’s thirty minutes or more.”
“Jude logic.” Levi chuckles.
“It’s the only kind worth having,” I say.
He smiles as I open the door to the arena, and we make our way down the hall. Okay, so far this is going well. I hope it stays that way. Sometimes he just tries too hard ever since I gave him and Tessa my blessing. He thinks I did him some kind of favor. I really didn’t.
Dixie is standing at the end of the hall, near the dressing room. Her arms are crossed, creasing her fancy blazer and silk blouse. “Well, better late than never.”
She’s looking right at me, not Levi. But he pats her shoulder as we walk by and gives her his best soothing smile. He’s got a lot of them. “We’ll make up the time by changing quickly, I promise, Dixie.”
She just nods. Man, how I wish she would just nod at me. The girl always has something to say to me.
We change into the clothes Dixie has laid out at our lockers. It’s a photo shoot for a new line of Under Armour. We have the same sports agent, and he inked a deal for both of us.
As promised, we change with lightning-quick speed and make it down the hall to the training room Dixie has set up as a hair and makeup room. I give my sister a pointed stare and pretend to look at my watch, pointing out thathello, the makeup artist is still setting up so you can suck it on tantrumming over me being late. Dixie just rolls her eyes at my gestures and then promptly ignores me. I laugh to myself.
“Jude, you going to Darby’s tomorrow?” Levi asks as the hairstylist motions him over.
