THE LAST TWOdays have been rough. I don’t know why Cam and Joey enjoy traveling so much. Jet lag is no joke. Ezra suggested I wake up at the time I typically do in hopes of acclimating quickly, but that all went to shit when I slept through my alarm and well into the early afternoon. Then, I had a terrible headache from lack of caffeine, so I compensated by drinking two cups of coffee, only to be up half the night and repeat it all the next day.
Finally, by day three post-Hawaii, I’ve gotten my act together. Only I don’t know what I’m powering through for. What am I even doing with my life? My work for LULU and the occasional audiobook are my only sources of income, and neither job pays all that steadily. Sure, I’m smart with money and could support myself comfortably using my savings for a few months, but then what?
Hawaii was literal paradise. All expenses paid—tacos, foot rubs, and nipplegasms, included. It’s hard not to wish I could be transported back.
While lazing my days away, I didn’t consider what I’d doonce I returned to the city. I have a slew of messages from my agent about potential auditions; I should be grateful for the opportunities, but I let every one go unanswered. Because the truth is, I’m not sure I want to return to the theater. I love performing, but do I want to go back to touring? Packing and picking up every few nights was stressful, not to mention the havoc it wreaked on my body.
Speaking of bodies, I have a long way to go, but I haven’t felt this comfortable in my skin in months, and do I really want to fuck up the progress I’ve made by subjecting myself to the body shaming that’s deeply ingrained in the industry?
There’s got to be a way I can keep the magic of performing while preserving my worth.
Ezra invites me over, but I tell him I’m busy. In reality, I’m not. I just don’t want to be a distraction to Kane as he acclimates to his new life.
My brother and parents call, but I don’t answer. Instead, I respond via text. By day five, they’re no longer buying my jet lag excuse. After Asher plays dirty, sending a picture of my niece with a message bubble drawn above her head that saysAnswer your phone Lee Lee, I finally call.
“It’s about damn time,” he scolds.
“Hey, Ash.”
“How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“That’s it? You escape to Hawaiiwith a man, get a freaking blood transfusion, and all I get isI’m good?”
“Fine,” I sigh. “You want the truth?”
Tone sympathetic, he says, “Always, Mills. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.” A sob claws its way up my throat, but I hold it back.
“Want to know a secret?” he asks softly. “None of us do.”
“But you’re a dad and running a whole damn camp.”
“That doesn’t mean shit,” he laughs. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Bea more than anything, but she comes with a whole host of challenges. Keeping the retreat center and camp going is stressful. And the pressure to keep Daisy’s legacy alive is immense. The camp doctor, who’s been here since the center opened, just told me he’s retiring, so now I’ll need to fill his spot before next summer. If you know any doctors looking to moonlight up this way, let me know.”
“Cam’s sister is a doctor. I forget which kind, but I’ll find out.”
“Thank you. Speaking of doctors, have you made an appointment yet?”
Dread curls in my gut, making it difficult to formulate words.
“Amelia.”
Oy vey, he sounds like Ezra. I chuckle to myself. “I will, I will. I promise.”
“Are you coming to Mom and Dad’s for brunch tomorrow? Joey and Cam will be there.”
I can’t deny that I’d like to continue hiding out, but if I don’t show up, my entire family will be knocking down my door. Plus, I could really use a Joey hug.
“I’ll be there.”
When we moved to the city, back when I was a teenager, we lived in a tiny apartment. Asher and I were lucky to have our own rooms, even if mine was only big enough for a twin-size bed and ashoe bin. Last year, though, my parents moved into their dream home. The corner apartment has three spacious bedrooms and a gorgeous view of Central Park. The upgrade means my dad won’t retire any time soon, but that’s probably best for everyone’s sanity—especially Mom’s.
It takes a little over half an hour to reach my parents’ by train, and within minutes, I regret not hopping in an Uber. It’s too damn hot. At least the Spanx under my sundress are saving my thighs from chaffing.
As soon as I enter the apartment, I’m tackled by the cutest four-year-old.
