Page 110 of All the way home

“Rena?” Off-camera, Oscar fakes disbelief. “On a FaceTime call? Is the world ending?”

“I FaceTime you,” Rena objects. Then she adds, “Sometimes.”

“Twice.” The camera jolts and shifts, and Oscar’s face comes into frame, all dark eyebrows and dimples. Sternly, he holds up two fingers. “Twice in a semester.”

“Sorry,” Rena says, and shrugs, the feeling of missing them like a stitch in the side.

“What can we do for you?” Siobhan asks, because by now, she knows full well that Rena doesn’t call just for fun.

She pauses. “How did you know it was a good idea to get engaged?”

Siobhan gasps—an enormously theatrical production, eyes wide—and claps a hand over her mouth. Muffled, she asks, “Are you and Lucas going to join us?”

A pit of deep unease opens up inside Rena. She opens her mouth, then closes it. In the end, all she manages is “I don’t know.”

She never imagined herself getting married. It’s a side effect that she hasn’t imagined getting engaged either. But surely it’s not that strange.

Oscar must see something on her face, because he loosens his grip on Siobhan and the camera angles in on his face. “You okay?”

And Rena wants to say yes. But Oscar will know it’s a lie, and explaining her way out of it is going to be harder than just coming out with it up front. She repeats, in a whisper, “I don’t know.”

Neither of them are smiling anymore.

“It’s not a big deal.” She gives her head a little shake. “How are you guys doing?”

Siobhan’s expression is irritatingly skeptical. “It doesn’t look like it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not,” Rena insists. “I’ll be fine.”

“Reen.” Oscar’s voice is a gentle warning. “You can tell us.”

Taking a deep breath, Rena repeats her question. “How did you know it was a good idea to get engaged? Siobhan, not Oscar.”

Oscar makes a face, and Rena almost smiles. She knows exactly what he’s thinking: I would have married her straight out of high school. God knows she’s heard him say it enough times.

With a tilt of her head, Siobhan smiles fondly. “Well, I knew he was going to ask. No offense, my love, but you are not subtle”—Oscar makes a sound of outrage—“so I had time to prepare.”

Rena nods.

“Thinking about saying yes made me nervous. But then I thought about saying no, and it felt like a punch to the gut. So I knew what my answer would be.”

“Oh.” Abruptly, Rena feels very small.

Actually, she feels a little frightened.

Ever gentle, Oscar asks, “Are you going to tell us what’s wrong?”

Rena forces her tiny smile not to slip. “I’m not sure there’s much to tell.”

Everything feels ugly, and Rena doesn’t know how to excise the important parts.

“When can we see you?” Oscar glances at Siobhan. Evidently, the agreement not to push goes unspoken. “Tomorrow?”

At that, something Rena’s buried deep down expands, curling outward like a sprout blossoming. A tendril of hope.

Normalcy.

Throat tight, she says, “That would be lovely.”