“Oh, shit. You did?” That didn’t sound convincing, but she’s too frazzled to notice.
“The ring is in here. What do I do? Should I get off the plane? I should get off the plane.”
“No, don’t. I won’t need it right away. I can get it from you later.”
“Okay. I’ll bring it back or mail it to you or something. Ugh! I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Everything is good on my end.”Better than good. “Do I have anything important that you need?”
“Um.” She exhales heavily to calm herself. “It’s clothes and a charger. I have my laptop. Everything else was checked. I’m good.”
“Good.” I can hear the flight attendant scolding her in the background. “You need to go. Have a safe flight, okay?”
“You too, babe.” Her voice is as sweet as the kiss still lingering on my lips. “I miss you already.”
My hand goes to my chest, attempting to keep my heart from tumbling out into my palm and running to her. “Me too.”
We end the call, and our goodbye feels less final than before. A glimmer of hope is all I need to hang on.
~
The mountain was out during my ride home. It’s still sunny, the summer not quite over yet. At least I’m coming back before the gray sets in.
Back in Tacoma at my parents’, I walk in through the restaurant entrance and watch May transform from welcoming server to my apathetic little sister.
“Look who it is,” she says, crossing her arms. There are only three people dining, giving her plenty of space to give me shit. “You’re back.”
“Missed you too.”
While we split the difference between Mom and Dad’s genes, May’s skin and hair is closer to Mom’s—more bronze than brown, wavy than curly—and she has mom’s dark eyes while I got Dad’s hazel. I always thought I looked odd, and before my twenty-something glow-up, I did. Now that Bri has stroked my ego, I can see how I won the best combination of our parents’ features. Another reason for May to be annoyed by me.
I move past her, going into the kitchen. My dad stands at the cooktop, too focused to notice me. “Hey, Dad.”
He looks at me over his shoulder and lifts his chin in greeting. Short of saying hello, but a greeting nonetheless.
~
After a shower and a snack, I lie in my bed, waiting for the sounds of the kitchen to quiet down enough to sleep. I don’t want to keep looking at my phone six thousand times, waiting for Bri to call me. Her flight got in later than mine. Logically, if her friends are more affectionate than my family, she’ll want time to chill with them and get settled into her new space. Still, I can’t help wondering if something has changed between us.
Movement in my doorway grabs my attention. I catch a whitetail disappearing at the side of my bed. “You found me,” I greet my furry sibling.
Bean Sprout, my mom’s nineteen-year-old cat, is the only sentient creature who doesn’t judge me in this house. Mom found her as a kitten, chasing a mouse in the storage room, ruining a box of bean sprouts that had shipped earlier in the day. She’s the same dingy white color as a bean sprout too, and still mouses better than a feline half her age. She gives me a slow blink, and I lean back to invite her onto my chest. Taking her position, she tucks in her front paws and closes her eyes, purring while she accepts my pets.
“Natalie left me. Do you feel bad for me, Bean?”
Her ears twitch a noncommittalsure. I hold her head and brush my thumbs over her eyes and cheeks the way she likes. Her soft face and rumbling purrs calm me.
“I met someone named Bri. You would like her. She’s pretty and likes animals.” Bean’s eyes peek open. “Not thatyou’rean animal. I’m saying animals only trust good people, so she must be pretty amazing.”
Bean isn’t a vocal cat. In the rare moments she does meow, her voice sounds like she’s been chain-smoking for forty years. She’s the only one in the house who seems happy about my return. In their defense, I only told everyone I was going to New York two days before I left. Traveling with minimal warning isn’t unusual for our family, and returns are often as casual. But with my mom away, I want someone who will talk back to me.
“I miss her, Bean. Should I call her? Is it too soon?” Only purrs. “Speak if I shouldn’t call her.”
A raspy squeak leaves her villainous mouth.
My jaw drops. “I thought we were family!”
“Are you talking to the cat again?” My sister stands in my doorway, looking as ready to sass me as before, dressed in pajamas thistime.
