Chapter 18
I have a photo taken on the best day of my life.
It’s a mid-jump shot of Jo and I at the Grand Canyon.
We begged a family visiting from Japan to take it, and the dad tried and tried but couldn’t get it, and then his young daughter took the camera from him and nailed it on the first try.
You can barely tell it’s us thanks to our windblown hair obscuring most of our faces.
We’ve both got face-splitting grins and matching baggy jeans with Chuck Taylors on.
It was a month before high school graduation.
I’d been seeing Sam Jacobs, one of Andy’s friends, for a few months, and that morning Sam told me as we walked into school, arm-in-arm no less, that he thought we made better friends.
It stung, but I agreed with him, even though we were supposed to go to prom together in a few short weeks.
I was now going to be Jo and Andy’s third wheel, unless I could magic another date.
But then by second period I heard that he’d already asked a cute junior to prom.
I hid in the bathroom crying until Jo found me.
“Let’s get out here, P. You name it, we’ll go there,” she said to me, wiping tears off my face with the sleeve of her flannel.
“In Silvercreek? At ten in the morning? There’s nowhere to go unless you want bottomless chips at La Cocina,” I replied, forlorn and dreading facing Sam in fourth period.
“Then think bigger. We’ve got wheels, the world is our oyster.” She jingled her keys in front of my face for emphasis.
“Nana will kill me if I skip.”
“But Nola will do a backflip if you skip. She tried to get us to go with her to that folk festival in the city last week even though we had our AP Econ exam.” Jo grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Come on, Paige. Think. Name one place you’ve always wanted to go.”
I said the first thing that popped into my mind. “The Grand Canyon.”
Nola and I had driven around it, but she always refused to stop as it was ‘too plebeian an excursion’ for her. Although, I think it’s because the one time she got her palm read the reader said Nola was going to die by falling into a great pit.
Jo didn’t say a single thing; she just grabbed me and dragged me out to the parking lot.
We drove the five hours straight, blasting Joni Mitchell the whole way, and arrived at the Grand Canyon just before sunset.
We ran around taking photos of each other and then sat on a bench to watch the sun set.
Once it got dark, we drove home, stopping for burgers and milkshakes halfway.
We ate our dinner sitting on the hood of Jo’s old F-150 and laughed until our sides hurt.
At one point, I remember Jo throwing her arm around my shoulders and mumbling through a mouthful of fries, “You know what being friends with you is like? It’s like waking up on a freezing cold day and rushing to the clothes dryer to find a perfectly hot sweater waiting for you. You’re my hot sweater on a cold day.”
I made light of it in the moment and called her ‘an overly sensitive old woman,’ but inside I was singing because I felt the same way.
She was my missing puzzle piece. There are a lot of ways to tell someone you love them, but that was the perfect way she could have told me.
I had spent my life feeling like I’d never belonged anywhere, but in that moment I felt like I belonged to Jo—I was her hot sweater on a cold day, and she was mine.
She made me feel safe and seen unlike anyone ever had before—Nola and my grandmother included.
I loved them and knew they loved me, but neither of them had ever made me feel so wholly understood like Jo could.
The photo of us at the Grand Canyon lives in a frame on my dresser and is the first thing I’d grab in a fire.
do the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t—I snap a photo of the picture with my phone and text it to Jo.
Seeing my name pop up on her phone is going to anger her more than anything else, but that doesn’t stop me.
Sometimes you have to poke the bear to remind them that you love them more than anything and you would never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt them.
Hopefully, my bear gets that before she throws her phone across the room.
A few minutes later, I hear the rumble of an engine in the driveway.
Hauling myself to my feet, I carefully pick my way down the stairs, peeking through the front windows to try and catch a glimpse of who’s arrived.
Shayne has backed his truck and trailer into my narrow driveway, which isn’t really meant to accommodate such a set-up.
He manages to impressively avoid hitting Sofia while doing his best to find a flatter area to park the trailer.
Duke whinnies loudly, understandably voicing his displeasure.
I had no clue he was coming by so early, although I should have, because where else was he going to go when Jo asked him to be out by morning.
I’m still in my pajamas, which are a very hole-ridden Eurythmics concert t-shirt that used to be my moms and flannel pants.
It must be a sign of my mental state that I don’t care if he sees me bedraggled.
I shouldn’t want to talk to him. I should wave him off from the porch and send him on his way to disappear into the horizon.
But something inside me just won’t let me ignore the electrifying feelings I have in his presence.
Shayne puts the truck in park, kills the engine and exits the cab, looking mildly chagrined. “Sorry about the trailer. Didn’t have much of a choice. Duke will have to be our chaperone.”
“You being here right now is not going to help smooth things over with Jo in the slightest,” I say, sitting down on the porch steps so I can rest my head in my hands.
“Jo’s got her hands full preparing for Andy’s arrival. She came by the cabin just before I left to give me my final paycheck.”
“You saw her??” I ask, desperate for any kind of update. I check my phone to see if she’s replied to my text. Nothing.
“She said she wished things had turned out differently.”
“That’s it?” I’m shocked that she didn’t try and slash his tires
“Right before she left, she did say she was sorry about what happened to my sister.”
Interesting, I’m not sure what to make of that.
“When she left last night, she had murder in her eyes. Something must have happened. The Jo I know would have showed up at the cabin with a torch and pitchfork ready to run you through if she thought you were trying to scam her.”
“When we spoke on the phone last night, things were tense. But this morning she was calm. Distant, but calm.” Shayne meets my gaze and holds it. “I’m really sorry, Paige. I never wanted this to get so out of hand.”
He may as well have thrown kerosene on an open fire. “Are you fucking serious? I can’t see how you thought coming here under false pretenses, working for the man you thought might have had a hand in your sister’s death, and sleeping with his wife’s best friend wasn’t going to get out of hand.”
“You have no idea how hard it was for me to not touch you at the hot springs. At the hot springs. On Jo’s porch.
Hell, anytime I was near you, I wondered what you’d feel like, taste like.
It became too hard to stay away from you.
I thought I could control it, but I failed at that too.
I knew getting close to you would make everything else more difficult.
” He pauses, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“I told Jo I’m not going to pursue anything further with Andy. ”
I jump to my feet, catching Shayne by surprise. “This was all for nothing? You’re not even going to confront Andy about the ring? What happened to ‘I’m doing this for Lila’?”
“You happened, Banshee. I don’t want to mess up your life any further than I already have,” Shayne says, stepping forward like he’s going to take me into his arms.
I knock his hands away. “No way, buddy. How am I not supposed to think this wasn’t some game for you?
You came here, lit a bunch of fires, and now get to ride off scot-free.
Jo was right. You got what you wanted—although what that is is beyond me—and now you get to leave, while those of us left here have to pick up the pieces. Fuck. You.”
“Paige, if I didn’t care about you, I would confront Andy.
I’d make him pay. I’d park myself outside the police station until they promised to fine-tooth-comb his life.
I’d make damn sure that he lost everything.
But I can’t do that to you. Jo would suffer by association and so would you.
It won’t bring Lila back. Trust me, I want him to hurt, but not if it means hurting you, too. ”
The backs of my eyes start to sting. I’m sick of crying. I’m sick of everything. “I don’t know, Shayne. It’s a little late for that. Damage has already been done.”
“I’m not riding off scot-free. Leaving you is the last thing I want to do. I don’t have a lot of options at the moment, though. As you can see, Duke doesn’t really fit in your driveway.” Shayne’s lips curl into a wry smile. “Trust me, Paige—”
“You keep telling me to trust you. How am I supposed to do that?”
He reaches for me again, bringing his hands up to cup my face, and this time I let him touch me.
“Because I’ve never lied to you. I want you.
I want all of you. I want the messy and the perfect.
I want to wake up next to you. I want to watch you overthink everything.
” His gaze stays intently on mine, as if daring me to argue with him.
“I want to properly teach you how to ride a horse. I want to listen to your weird music. I want kissing you to be the first and the last thing I do every day. I want—”