We’re both silent for a few seconds before she lays into me.
“Adam, why haven’t you booked your plane ticket yet?”
My sigh is heavy. “I haven’t booked it because I haven’t decided if I’m coming or not.”
“You promised.”
“I know I did, and I’m sorry. You know how hard this is for me after everything that’s happened.”
“You can do this. I know you can. The wedding isn’t even remotely close to where you and Mia used to live. We’re havingit at Justin’s country club, miles and miles away. It’s a totally different scene, you’ll see.”
I don’t know Roxy’s fiancé at all. I’ve never met him in person. I only know that his name is Justin, he works in Silicon Valley, and he comes from a very wealthy family. Back in the day, we used to make fun of people like him. But she assures me he’s a good man and that I’ll like him from the get-go.
“Please, Adam. Make it a vacation. Justin’s family has oceanfront property in Santa Cruz. And I know how much you love the ocean. That’s where we’ll be staying the weekend of the wedding, and he’s already said you can stay there too, so you’ll have privacy. I’ll watch you surf like I did in the old days, and we can stay up late and eat gummy worms and popcorn while watching my dad's favorite 80s movies.”
I run my hand through my hair and stare up at the sky. Leave it to Roxy to pull out all the stops, making it impossible for me to say no. Still, my heart aches at the thought of setting foot in California again.
“Give me another day, Rox.”
“One more day,” she agrees in a firm tone. “Don’t let me down.”
I groan. “I’ll try not to.”
“Good.” I can hear the grin in her tone. “And thanks for answering this time.”
“Roxy…”
“I know, I know. No guilt trips. I’m sorry. I just want you there on my special day. I need you, Adam.”
I grip the back of my neck and nod, even though she can’t see me. “I know. I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise.”
“Famous last words,” she jokes. We both laugh and say our goodbyes.
As I crest the hill leading to the house, a heavy melancholy floods me, each throb in my bones a ghost of another time and place. I force myself to let it go, clinging to the warmth and laughter that await me with my friends tonight.
And with my best girl, steady and loyal, by my side.
Chapter Fourteen
Keri
“What is this photo on your screensaver?” Beverly asks, pointing at my phone.
We’re sitting under a shade tree, enjoying the evening in her backyard. She sits right next to me at the outdoor table, resting her hand on the table’s edge, while Adam and the others go back for a second helping of chicken hot off the grill. I stay seated, sipping on iced tea and waiting for a slice of Miss Jenny’s famous strawberry cake.
“Adam took that picture of us with his fancy camera on a timer,” I reply, my heart thumping hard as the memory of our romantic evening camping beneath the stars flares up inside me. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I can almost feel the electric magic of that night all over again.
“He really is talented,” Beverly says, studying the photo for a moment. She keeps her eyes on the image before glancing up. “You should get this one framed.”
I watch George and Madison in the distance, carefully swinging two-year-old cousins, Roman and Joey, on a fat tire securely fastened to a thick branch of the old oak tree, their boyish giggles infectious. The scent of grilled meat and magnolia flowers wafts through the air, along with the subtle beat of a yacht-rock tune.
“I already have. It sits on my desk at work.”
I look at the photograph he gave me from our first campout. It’s casual, private, and unposed. We’re embracing, and there’s an intimacy in the image that’s almost uncomfortable to witness. Not sexual, but deeply private. Two people finding a moment of peace and connection amid the storm of being human. I love him anyway. Not in a martyred, self-sacrificing way, but with a clear-eyed understanding that love means embracing someone’s past and what you can’t change, and sometimes choosing that person despite their fragile feelings.
Beverly hands my phone back to me and grins. She props her chin in her hand, resting her elbow on the table. “So tell me, what makes Adam interesting? What first attracted you to him?”
I smirk, remembering seeing him dining outside at Miss Jenny’s café. I don’t tell her I thought Adam was a homeless man at first. She’d laugh and tease him for sure. Instead, I pause and share how I really feel about the long-haired California photographer who’s captured my heart.
