29. Izzy
29
IZZY
“No.”
“Finneas,” I whine, covering my face. “I’m sorry.”
“You can’t move to Maine. That’s so far away.” Lips turned down, he pouts at me onscreen. “I can’t say I’m surprised, though. Not with the way you talk about the place, not to mention your hot roommate, but I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ll come visit me, won’t you?”
He gives a fake dramatic sign. “I guess so. Maybe in a couple of months. Fall in New England will make for good content.”
“That’s true,” I agree. “Fall in Parkerville is magical.”
The leaves turn the most beautiful shades of red, yellow, and orange, and they litter the ground like sprinkles on a cake. The businesses decorate their windows for Halloween. Last year, Via painted the windows of her store with a mummy theme.
“You’re really leaving LA, huh?”
I sigh. “It was time.” Deep down, I always knew LA was temporary, and now that I’m approaching thirty, my goals have shifted. I’ll never regret my time there, but I would if I forced myself to stay.
“If you need help packing, let me know.”
I level him with a skeptical look. “Finneas.”
“All right.” He holds his hands up like I’ve caught him. “I’ll get Jordan to do it,” he says, referring to his boyfriend. “But that’s only because he doesn’t have to worry about ruining a manicure.” He wags his fingers at the screen.
“Ooh, those are cute.”
“Please tell me you’re taking care of your nails out there.”
“Sometimes. Currently, though, I’m past due for a manicure.”
“Let me see.”
With a sigh, I hold my hands up, cringing as I show him how badly the blue polish has grown out.
“Izzy.” He says my name again in a scandalized fashion. “You need to fix those.”
“I know.” I tuck my hands under my thighs. “I haven’t had time.”
Not between helping Derrick with the business and working on the restaurant. I’ve been sourcing furniture and sending it to the Grants—the restaurant owners—for approval. Working on their place might be the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done. It’s rewarding in a way I didn’t expect.
“Make time,” he scolds playfully, pointing at the counter. “Like today.”
“I’ll try. ”
“Oh.” He claps his hands and straightens. “Have you checked your Instagram?”
I snort. “No.” I uploaded the photo from the lighthouse a few days ago and dipped. I only posted for the followers who have stuck by me. Who genuinely care. It was my way of saying I might be staying away, but I am all right.
His mouth drops. “Izzy, check it right now.”
The moment the app loads and I see the number of notifications, my jaw drops. I click over to my main page, and when it registers that my 2.4 million followers has jumped to 2.5 million, my heart takes off.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, scrolling down and clicking on my last photo.
@laura_luvs_uuu: Omg! I can tell from his hand alone he’s hot!
@willowcreek4eva: So happy to see you back!
@hannahmarie02: OMG the veins in his arm. I’m drooling. Girl, show us his face!
@easybreezy: You dipped and got a boyfriend! Good for you! We’ve missed you!
And, perhaps the best comment of all, is from a verified account with more than fifty thousand likes on it alone.
@LUX: Good to see you back. Don’t let the haters win. Muah.
My phone clatters to the floor, and dumbstruck, I blink at Finneas.
Laughing, he claps, and I swear he’s bouncing in his seat. “Looks like my girl is no longer canceled.”
“I…” My stomach twists in an unexpected way. “I thought it was going to be like the last time I posted.”
“People have moved on,” he says with a dismissive shrug. “Far worse stuff has happened since then. ”
I don’t ask because I don’t want to know. “I… even Lux commented.”
“I know.” He reaches offscreen, then brings an iced coffee to his lips. “Lux must’ve felt horrible about the hate you got. A few days after your last post, when people were still being dicks, she made a post calling them out.”
My throat tightens, making it hard to speak. “I didn’t know.”
After that incident, I locked myself out of my apps to help quell the temptation to look.
“Looks like you’re back, girl. If you want to be, that is.”
“I want to be,” I say carefully, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
Finneas visibly cringes again at the state of my nails, pulling a laugh from me.
“I’m not sure how I want to go about it, though. My content is going to change, and people might hate that but?—”
“But your devoted followers will stick around,” he interrupts. “You’d be surprised by how many people follow your account because of you rather than what you’re doing.”
A wave of gratitude for this man swells inside me. “Thanks, Finneas.”
“I’m really going to miss you.”
My chest pangs with sadness. “Me, too, but we’ll still see each other. Bestie vacations, right?”
“You bet. And Jordan and I will come in the fall.”
“Please!”
“I better go,” he says, tapping his fingers on his desk. “And you, little missy, need to get yourself to the nail salon.”
I roll my eyes. “I will.”
“Today. I’ll be waiting for pictures.”
“Fine,” I groan. “I’ll see if Via wants to go. ”
“And if she doesn’t”—he wags a finger at me—“then you go anyway.”
With a mock salute, I say, “You bet.”
“Talk to you later.” Finneas blows me a kiss, and then he’s gone.
My heart aches just a little as I log out of the video chat browser. As happy as I am with my decision to move here permanently, I am sad to be leaving him. He’s one of the good ones.
With a cleansing inhale, I snatch my phone from the floor. Then I shoot Via a text about getting our nails done. Since Reid is with Derrick and Layla—headed out to see the property and talk about Derrick’s plans for it, as well as get their blessing to sell the house, since it’s where they were raised—Via might actually be available.
Via: Sure, I can go.
Me: Pick you up in twenty?
Via: Sounds good. I’ll be ready.
I shuck off my sweatpants and oversized tee and slip into a dress in record time, then I toss my hair up with a clip. After letting Wonton out to pee and smothering him in kisses for being the goodest boy, I drive over to Via’s apartment.
She takes the steps at a relaxed pace, a crocheted bag slung over her shoulder and her jeans streaked with paint and what I think might be charcoal.
“Hi,” she says as she slips into the passenger seat. “Please tell me we’re going to get coffee first. I need caffeine. I was up all night.”
I grin, waggling my eyebrows. “All night, huh?”
She swats my arm. “Not like that. Though”—she laughs, strapping the seat belt across her chest—“sometimes it is like that, but not in this case. I was up working on a project. I went to sleep at a reasonable time, but then inspiration struck, so I got up and went for it.”
Frowning, I ask, “You get inspiration in your sleep?”
“I was dreaming,” she explains as I back out of the alley that serves as her driveway, “and in the dream I was painting. It was so beautiful, Izzy. The pink was the most unique shade I’ve ever seen. And the blue was so vibrant. I knew it was just what the piece I’ve been working on needed.”
I shake my head, astounded at the way her brain works. “You’re incredible.”
She bumps her elbow lightly against mine. “So are you. Now, what is this I heard about you posting a man on Instagram? It’s Derrick, right? Mom called me about it, but I haven’t been online to confirm.”
I take my eyes off the road for a second to gape at my sister. “How would she know? She’s not even on social media.”
Via waves a dismissive hand. “One of her friends sent a screenshot to her.”
“Ugh,” I groan, tossing my head back as I stop at the light. “I should’ve known. Why didn’t she ask me about it?”
“I think she was hoping I’d spill without her having to confront you. You are the favorite.”
My heart sinks. “Via.”
“What?” she asks, her tone much more upbeat than mine. “It’s true, and I’m okay with it.”
I press my lips together and leave it alone. There’s no sense in denying it. Our parents’ favoritism has always been blatant, and it’s absolutely laughable. For years, Via was the one who did everything that was asked of her, while I always marched to the beat of my own drum.
“Anyway, I’m sure she’ll call you at some point. Figured I’d give you a heads-up. ”
A shaky exhale gusts out of my lips. “She’s going to kill me when I tell her I’m moving here.”
“You’re moving here?” Via blurts out, jolting in her seat so she’s facing me, more surprised than I expected her to be.
“Yes. I don’t want to be in LA anymore. I love it here.”
In my periphery, Via nibbles her lip in a way that tells me she’s carefully weighing her words. “You’re not moving for Derrick, are you?”
“No,” I answer firmly. “I’m not. Yes, being here permanently will make things easier for us, but truthfully, I made this decision before anything even happened with him. I just needed to come to terms with it. Even though I know it’s the right choice, I’m still closing a chapter on my life.”
“I understand that. I guess that means I should share my news, too.”
“Ooh.” I wiggle my shoulders and dart a glance at her. “What is it?”
“Reid and I are looking at houses. Just something small.”
“Aw, Via.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” She pulls a ChapStick out of her purse. “I’ve been putting it off, which is silly with as much time as we spend together. Most nights, I either end up at his place, or he ends up at mine. It makes sense to live together.”
“I wondered why you hadn’t already moved in together, but I didn’t want to push.”
She snorts. “Because I’m stubborn. Chase and I moved too fast. I didn’t have time to really settle into our relationship before we were married. With Reid, I want to make sure I take my time making big decisions.”
A chuckle escapes me as I turn into the parking lot of the nail salon. “It’s probably a good thing you forced him to take it slow. Otherwise, he’d have already talked you into walking down the aisle.”
“You know”—she stretches her fingers out in front of her, a nervous tic we both possess—“I secretly thought he would have grown bored with me by now, but he loves me just as much, if not more, than he did in the beginning.”
My heart squeezes as I take her in. “That boy is obsessed with you.”
She laughs, her eyes filling with tears. “He really is. God, I didn’t know love could be like this. So… free. With Chase I… it was okay in the beginning, but it was like nothing I did was good enough. Like I wasn’t good enough. Reid has never made me feel that way.”
“He can’t help it.” I undo my seat belt. “That boy is pure golden retriever. All he knows how to do is show you love.”
Blinking rapidly, she fans her face. “We better get in there before I get any more emotional.”
I can’t help but think about my own feelings for Derrick. I’ve had plenty of boyfriends, but I’ve never felt the way I do with Derrick. I’ve never loved another person in this way. With him, I feel content to simply exist.
The salon is an adorable little place with pale pink walls and other pink accents throughout. It’s fun and girly and so much cuter than the white, uber modern salon I frequented in LA.
We also don’t need to book appointments months in advance. Once we’ve checked in, we head over to the wall of swatches and polishes.
“I don’t know what color I’m in the mood for.” I tap my finger against my lip.
“I’m going with orange,” Via says, already scanning the swatch of appropriate shades .
Still unable to decide, I pull out my phone and shoot a text off to Derrick.
Me: I’m getting my nails done with my sister. I don’t know what color to get.
It only takes a minute for his response to come through.
Derrick: Can I pick?
Me: Sure. Which color would you prefer to see wrapped around your dick later?
Those three little dots signaling his reply appear almost immediately. Then disappear.
Finally, I get:
Red.
My stomach flips at that simple response. Red it is.
I pick up the swatch and choose a bright cherry red.
“What’s that little smirk about?” My sister asks as we sit side by side at the empty manicure stations. “You texted something dirty, didn’t you?”
I shrug, playing innocent. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Her laugh is a breathy huff. “I can’t believe you’re with my boyfriend’s dad .”
“It really is wild.” There’s no denying how complicated the whole situation is. “But I’m happy.”
“You deserve it,” she says, unscrewing the lid from the bottle of pastel orange she chose and pulling the brush out to assess the color.
“So do you.” If anyone does, it’s her. My wish for my sister is that she can have every good thing she’s ever wanted. There’s one thing, I know, that was and will be a struggle, but I have no doubt that one day she’ll be a mom.
“Who would’ve thought we’d both fall in love with Parkerville, Maine and its men?” She breathes a laugh. “They should put that on a travel brochure. Come here if you want to find love.”
An hour and a half later, our nails are done, and we head to the coffee shop, having forgotten all our talk about our mother and our men.
“I love that we can spend time together like this,” Via says, swiping her coffee from the pickup counter.
“Me, too.”
Our age difference means that, as kids, we rarely had things in common, and by the time that began to change, she was with Chase, and he took up all her time.
“Are you coming to book club tonight? You’ve missed the last couple of weeks, and they’ve all been desperate to know where you are.”
When the barista sets my matcha on the counter, I give her a smile and step away. “That’s because now they know I’m with Derrick and they want all the tea.”
Via groans. “You know what Glenda did last week? She got out a measuring tape and made everyone guess how long his dick is.”
“What?” Laughter bubbles out of me. “Only Glenda. She’s a hoot.”
“She’s something, that’s for sure.” Via sips her coffee. “I refused to participate, especially after she said that my guess would probably be most accurate, since I’m with Reid and all. She was not happy with me. I thought she might take her shoe off and smack me with it. ”
Tears prick my eyes as I toss my head back and guffaw. “Oh, wow. I love that woman.”
Via shakes her head. “She’s entertaining. Don’t tell her, but I think she’s one of my favorite parts of Parkerville.”
“I won’t say a thing.” I mime zipping my lips. “It would go straight to her head.”
“What do you think about heading to the beach?”
I scan the sky outside the window. “Sounds good. The weather is perfect for it.”
“Do you know what they’re up to today?” she asks, holding the shop’s door open for me.
Pressing my lips together, I nod. “I’m sure Reid will fill you in.”
“Or”—she bumps her shoulder against mine—“you could just tell me.”
I shake my head. “It’s not my thing.”
With a sigh, she nods. “All right, I’ll leave it there, but only because I get it. I wouldn’t spill Reid’s secrets either.”
“We’re so down bad,” I groan.
Laughing, she loops her arm through mine. “Those Crawford men are special.”
My mind is consumed with images of Derrick. The way he totes Wonton around the house. His willingness to eat popcorn on the couch and wear facemasks with me. The feel of his hands on my skin. “They definitely are.”
“But let’s forget about them for a while. I want to collect seashells for a piece I’m working on.”
I give her a sharp nod. “No more Crawford talk. Got it.”
At the beach, we wander and scoop up shells, giggling like little girls. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more grateful for my sister than I am as I share this perfect day with her.