Chapter Eighteen
Sadie
“Three red wines, please,” I tell the flight attendant. She nods and starts pouring, passing little plastic cups to me, June, and Evelyn.
“Cheers,” June says, holding her cup up. Ev and I carefully tap ours against hers, then take long sips. “I love flying. Only at airports or on a plane can you drink wine at eleven AM and no one bats an eye.”
“It is oddly freeing,” Evelyn says.
I chuckle, swirling my cup and watching the cheap wine drip down the edges.
The morning has been pretty good so far.
June was all smiles when she picked Evelyn and me up and drove us to the airport.
Evelyn has been in a good mood too, laughing and joking with us without a hint of her typical solemnity.
I think we’re all excited to get away from Tucson for a few days.
And as overwhelming as my family can be, I know seeing them is nice for my friends, neither of whom have families they’re particularly close to.
“Sadie, how’s your love life? Who do you have in rotation now?” Evelyn asks.
The question, which is a normal one to get, throws me off for a second. I haven’t had a guy over in nearly three weeks, and the last one I kissed was Bowie.
“No one really,” I answer. “Lionel texted earlier this week, but I was on my period and feeling bloaty. Plus, I’m kind of bored, to be honest.”
“Well, he made it almost four months,” Ev says. “That's a record.”
I grimace. She doesn’t mean anything by it, and a few weeks ago, I would’ve said the same thing myself.
But for some reason, the reminder of how I decide to date makes my throat feel tight.
There’s nothing wrong with casually dating or having multiple partners, and for a while, that had worked for me.
I’m just not so sure it does anymore. Two guys texted me this week, one after my period was over, but my disinterest for both was off the charts.
The only person I really wanted to text me has remained annoyingly quiet.
Ev finishes her wine, then, to my surprise, asks June, “How’s Theo?”
The question clearly shocks June too, because she pauses and blinks. She throws back the rest of her own wine before replying. “He’s really good. He asked me to move in with him.”
“What?” I shout. Several people turn to stare at us, making Ev offer apologies on my behalf.
A blush fills June’s cheeks, and she runs her finger over the edge of her cup. “Yeah, last weekend. He took me out on a… date, then asked me to move in with him.”
“What did you say?” I ask.
“That I’d think about it.”
“You’re there all the time anyway.”
“Yeah, but I like my house.” She gives me a significant look, and I remember her house has a soundproof basement that she probably makes great use of. Theo’s doesn’t.
“If you sell your house, you could get a vacation place. A little cabin out in the middle of nowhere,” I suggest with a wink.
She smirks. “Theo basically said the same thing.”
“Didn’t you guys just start dating like two months ago? You don’t think that’s a little fast?” Ev says, each word hesitant, as if she’s worried about upsetting June.
“Maybe. I don’t know,” June says. “I love him, and I know I want to be with him, so I’m not sure what the point is in waiting.”
“Does James know that he offered?”
“I think so.” She purses her lips, then gives me a knowing grin. “You’d love visiting me at the Adonises’ house, wouldn’t you?”
“Wait…” Ev says, looking from June to me. “Do you have a thing for the other one?”
Now my cheeks are burning. “No, of course not.”
“Sure, Jan,” June says.
“I do not have a thing for James. Trust me.” I fill my voice with as much certainty as I can muster. After Sunday, I’d love for that to be true. But that didn’t stop his face from filling my mind each time I took out my vibrator this week.
“You two are going to be the death of me. I just came around to the idea of one criminal boyfriend in the group. Now we’re going to have two?”
“James is not and will never be my boyfriend.”
“He’s a great guy,” June says. “And I’m pretty sure he likes you.”
I laugh. “He definitely doesn’t like me.” If he made anything clear on Sunday, it’s that he can’t stand me.
“He’s just guarded, you know that.”
“Well, same.”
Sensing the end of the conversation, Evelyn changes topics, asking about our weekend plans.
The flight to LAX is about an hour and a half, and soon, the pilot announces our descent.
Deboarding is extra slow, and it’s two by the time we make it outside, where my dad’s 4Runner is waiting, sun glaring overhead.
“Magnet!” Dad yells. “Magnet’s friends!”
I smile and step into his embrace. He squeezes me tight, kisses the side of my head, then turns to my friends.
“Hey, Mr. Oliver,” Ev says, accepting his quick hug.
“Walker,” he corrects.
“Right, of course,” she says, though I know she’ll never use his first name. It would be “disrespectful.”
“Walker, how are you?” June asks after her own hug.
“I get senior discounts at most places now, so my wallet is living his best life, as the kids say.”
“Dad, oh my god,” I mumble, running my hand down my face. “I swear, you try to be a nerdy dad.”
He reaches over and tugs me into his side, ruffling my hair. “That’s my job, Magnet.” He chuckles, then grabs my bag to throw in the trunk.
We climb into the blessedly cool SUV, me in the passenger seat and the girls in the back.
The drive is nearly forty-five minutes, thanks to LA traffic, and we spend most of it telling Dad random stories, saving the real life updates for when we’re home.
He, in turn, entertains us with tales from his work as a biologist and the recent concert he went to with Desmond.
“Theo and I are seeing one of my favorite singers in May,” June says. “She’s coming to Phoenix.”
“I wondered how long it’d take you to mention your biker,” Dad says. “Marian won’t shut up about that.”
I drop my face in my hands, regret for telling my mom about June’s new relationship status washing over me.
“Oh?” June says, and I can feel her eyes burning into me. “What’s she saying?”
“You’ll have to ask her yourself! She’ll be ecstatic to drag you into conversational quicksand.”
“I look forward to it,” she says sarcastically.
“What about you, Evelyn?” Dad asks, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Any hot bikers in your life?”
The responding silence prickles the back of my neck. I twist around in my seat, staring at my friend’s slightly pink face as she stutters out, “No, of course not.”
June clearly senses the deception too, because she squints at Ev, as if trying to see our friend’s thoughts. “Say that again but with conviction this time.”
“I’m definitely not dating any biker.” This sounds much more honest, but the blush doesn’t disappear from her cheeks.
“You’re not dating a biker,” I repeat. “But is there a biker in your life?”
“Of course there is,” Ev says. “June bought a motorcycle last week.”
“A male biker,” I correct. “Perhaps a Saint of Purgatory?” I picture James and wonder if his ghosting act has anything to do with Evelyn.
Did she sneak into one of his fights like she suggested all those months ago?
Did they meet and hit it off and now James has a new partner for Operation Casper the Not-So-Friendly-Asshole Ghost?
“No, of course not,” she replies, this time with all the conviction her other responses were lacking. “No offense,” she adds with a sheepish glance at June.
“None taken.”
“Saints of Purgatory, eh?” Dad says. “Is that the infamous motorcycle gang your boyfriend is in?”
“Club,” June and I say at the same time. Then I add, “It’s a motorcycle club, Dad. Not a gang.”
“Right, I knew that,” he says. “You made me watch that entire Children of Chaos show.”
“Sons of Anarchy.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s literally not.”
Dad and I playfully argue for the next ten minutes, then we’re pulling into the two-car garage of my childhood home in Whitley Heights.
It’s a contemporary Mediterranean house with a front deck, a balcony, and a private backyard deck all overflowing with plants and flowers that my mom treats like her children.
There are five bedrooms inside, though one now serves as my dad’s home office.
Excited to spend a few days with my chaotic family, I jump out of the car and don’t bother grabbing my bag before rushing inside.
“Ma!” I shout.
“Magnet!” comes the reply. The next second, I’m enveloped in soft arms and the welcoming smell of basil and lavender. Thick black hair obscures my vision as I return my mom’s hug, squeezing her as hard as she squeezes me. “I missed you, sweetheart.”
“Missed you too, Ma.”
“No, that’s okay, I got my own bag, thanks!” June shouts from behind me.
I chuckle, releasing my mom. “You have a ten-pound carry on. I think you can handle it.”
“Juney, Evelyn, come here, my darlings.” Mom pushes past me to pull my friends into a hug. While they do their greetings and quick life overviews, I grab two bags, taking them to the guest bedroom on the first floor. Dad follows behind me, depositing the third bag and my large backpack.
“We have this room and your old bedroom set up,” he says. “Will is staying here while his place gets fumigated, so he’s in the corner bedroom.”
“That’s fine. Where is he?”
“Probably still at work. Who knew stunt doubles were that busy?”
“Stunt doubles as generic looking as Will with his skill? Of course he’s busy.” With a grin, I follow my dad back to the living room, where my mom is supplying the girls with a tray of variously flavored fancy drinks and a charcuterie board she put far too much effort into.
My friends clearly agree because June exclaims at how nice it all looks and how delicious the lavender lemonade tastes, while Ev says, “You didn’t need to do this, Ms. Forrest.”
I turn to my dad and mouth the words as my mom says, “It’s Marian to you, dear.”
He snorts a laugh, which earns him a glare from Ma.
“What are you two laughing at?”
“Magnet was telling me about a penis-shaped cactus she saw on the way to the airport.”
“Sadie!” Mom chastises.
“Thanks for that,” I mutter. My mom passes me a glass of her famous orange kiwi refresher, and I nearly moan with delight at the first taste.
Without further preamble, Ma says, “Tell me all about this sexy biker of yours, June. How did you meet? Do you have a picture? I can’t find him online. What crime does he practice?”
“What kind of question is that?” I laugh.
A glance sideways at my friends shows Ev looking down at her little plate of fruit and pretzels, likely fighting her discomfort and knee-jerk judgement reaction, and June with an incongruous, embarrassed grin.
The expression is so unlike her that I take a double look, realizing that behind the embarrassment is a bone deep happiness.
“He prefers to keep his online presence low,” June says. “Most of the Saints do.”
“And the Saints are his little club?”
June laughs softly, then nods. “The Saints of Purgatory. He’s their president.”
“Got any pictures?”
She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and scrolls for a bit, the pink in her cheeks deepening.
I wonder what sort of pictures she’s scrolling past, proud of my best friend for claiming her joy without an ounce of guilt or shame.
Finally, she settles on a picture, then turns the phone around.
Mom takes it, lifting it too close, then pinching the screen to zoom in.
Thankfully, she doesn’t try to scroll to the next photo and instead exclaims how handsome he is, asking about his tattoos and Saints cut.
Ev excuses herself while the two talk. I watch her go, frowning, then follow and find her in the upstairs bathroom, gripping the edge of the counter and letting her head hang forward.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She flinches, snapping her head up to look at me in the mirror. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“It’s okay if you’re not okay, Ev.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Theo really is a great guy. And he loves June in a way I’ve rarely ever seen.”
“I know that.” She doesn’t sound angry. In fact, she sounds resigned, almost sad.
“Then what’s wrong?”
She closes her eyes, pulls in three deep breaths, then turns to face me, her light amber irises shining. “I can’t lose anyone else.”
“Oh, Ev.” I pull her into a hug. Questions crowd the back of my throat, but she doesn’t need an inquisition right now. She needs safety. So, we stand in silence, her mind a turmoil of fears I can’t begin to understand, and mine a sinking pit of insecurities.