Chapter Seventeen
Blake
I make it home before my dad, who has to stop at the hardware store for a new paint swatch my mom wants for the kitchen. We all know she’s not going to change a damn thing, but we let her have her fun anyway. Selena Lucia Miller may be a fun-loving, take-life-by-the-horns, and all those other idioms type of woman, but she despises change in her home. She likes the comfortable and the predictable where that’s concerned.
And who am I to judge? That comfortable and predictable have always been my saving grace.
After I drop off the multitude of gifts for my family on the counter, I make my way upstairs, only to find the devil herself waiting for me in my room.
“Hello, mother,” I say dryly but with a tender smile.
“Oh good, just the daughter I was looking for,” she says as if she had any others, and pats the spot on my bed next to her. I roll my eyes but plop down in the spot anyway. “?Qué ha estado en tu mente últimamente, morrita?”
What’s going on in that head of yours, little girl?
It’s her favorite way to start one of her maternal conversations, unfortunately I know what this one is about—the same thing that had her worrying when someone else dropped me off after work.
Rolling my eyes, I retort, “?Esto de nuevo?”
I knew she wasn’t fully convinced last night, but it doesn’t mean I want to have this conversation. And I didn’t think she’d bring it up this soon.
“Yes, ‘ this again ,’” she repeats but in English now. “Blake, what happened to your tires? Was it those gir—”
I shake my head earnestly, cutting her off. My parents and insurance pay Catalina very good money so I can talk about it there. Not here. In my home, in my room. I refuse to let them taint everything. “No, no. It wasn’t anyone, Mom. Lo prometo, ” I emphasize the promise to her. She takes a breath, not looking wholly convinced.
She does her best, still it always comes back to the incidents . Plural. I know she means well, but I don’t want to talk about it—about the fear, the shame, the way it all mixed into anger before fading into a hollow, exhausted numbness.
And from the look on my mom’s face, I know she’s replaying that day we all ended up in the head mistress’s office, rather than the swim trials that were happening in the gym—the last day I ever stepped into that god-awful building.
Trying to shake off the memories and lingering dread, I link our hands together. “I really think it’s just because of that stupid pothole by the clinic. Even the Pain in My Ass was complaining about it when she brought Benji last.” Giving her a wry look, I add, “It might be the only thing that we’ve agreed on.”
“Blake Carmen, don’t be mean. You know she’s just… eccentric.”
“O loca , ” I mutter under my breath.
Her airy laugh fills the room as she leans back on the pillows, pulling me down and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We lay like that for a while, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars she helped me put up when I was younger. I remember being so jealous when I walked into Grady’s room and found him with the girl from next door, Vivi, jumping on his bed and sticking them on the ceiling.
The next day, my mom came home with all different packs—different sizes, colors, and a variety of space shapes—and spent hours helping me place each one meticulously and filling me up on homemade pan de dulce until my stomach hurt.
Grady never cared that I had more or better stars. For him, it was about the little redhead girl he got to spend those hours with. For me, it was about not wanting to feel left out. Again.
“How was your day with Adrian?”
Finally she brings up the topic I know is the other reason she was waiting for me.
“My day was fine. There’s a bunch of shit on the counter from everyone.”
“Don’t cuss,” she reprimands. “He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”
I don’t have to look at her to know she’s smirking. It isn’t the first time she’s commented on how attractive he is—like anyone with two semi-working eyes could miss it. Even now, in the dim light of my room, I can’t help but remember how the sun made his dark skin glow, like he just absorbs the light and radiates it back out. Don’t get me started on the way his biceps flexed under the soft button-up when he caged me against the wall and took up all of the air. Or the way his eyes soften every time he knows I’m starting to feel flustered, though he never lets me off the hook, either. I weirdly enjoy it.
Handsome doesn’t do Adrian justice. I don’t think I know of a word that really encompasses it.
Instead of telling her any of that , I just shrug and ask in a teasing tone, “You know you’re married, right? Unless you’re looking for a new pool boy like all the other moms that come into the clinic.”
She just throws her head back in a laugh and swats at my elbow. “We don’t even have a pool.”
“ Mom ,” I scoff, even if I’m chuckling along with her. “I don’t think most of those women do either.”
After her laugh dies off, she quietly adds, “You know, your dad said he had a feeling about him.”
“What? Like he’ll be a good vet?” I roll my eyes. I mean, he’s an amazing vet assistant, and will be an even better veterinarian, but my dad’s always going on about his feelings . Like how he had a feeling about—
“Hmm, I’m sure there was that. It was more like he had a feeling about you two. Quite similar to what he used to say about your brother.” And Vivi , goes left unsaid.
Aaand there it is.
“Yeah, because that was sooo spot on,” I mock. “They only haven’t spoken in what? Four years?”
“I think they talked at our vow renewal a few months ago.”
Yup, my parents have been married for twenty-five years. Crazy, even if I’ve only been alive for eighteen and a half of those years. Last spring, they had a small event in our backyard to celebrate. It was simple and beautiful. But…
“Vivi was drunk as a skunk.” I tilt my head in thought. “In fact, all of the Davies were.”
Vivi and her three siblings grew up in the house behind us and moved to Amada Beach about a month before we did. After she and Grady met at a Fourth of July party, their mom Bonnie and my parents became best friends. Eventually, we spent holidays together and a gate between our backyards was installed.
While our parents are still close, Grady and I don’t talk to the four siblings much anymore.
She waves her hand dismissively. “Either way, I think they talked.”
I snort. If only you knew how that conversation went.
“And now another woman is having Grady’s baby. Dad should turn in the vet coat and open a tarot stand on the pier,” I say dryly.
“You’re right, Grady is having a baby with another woman. But a baby doesn’t make a couple fall in love, Blake.”
“You don’t like her.” It’s not a question. Despite wondering for a while, I feel like this only confirms it.
She shakes her head and sighs. It’s deep and tired, like everything going on with Grady is really taking a toll on her. I mean, it’s been a hell of a year for him between tearing his ACL and finding out he’s having a baby with his then ex-girlfriend. Not to mention the years before that were centered on me, and my wellness.
My ever-present, ever-dedicated mother must be exhausted.
“It’s not that I don’t like Arielle. She’s a nice enough girl. She’s ambitious and polite. And she sure is a gorgeous little thing, isn’t she?” Tall, slim, and elegant with dark hair and bright blue eyes. She’s gorgeous. And aloof and stuffy. “I just don’t see her or Grady being a good fit. He’s my son, but he’s not perfect. None of us are. And I just worry that their flaws will start to pick the other apart rather than balance each other out.”
“Do you think he picked Arielle because she’s the opposite of Vivi?” I startle myself by letting the question fly out. Call me an annoying little sister, but Grady’s relationships are fascinating to me. He’s definitely not the most emotionally vulnerable person you’ll ever meet. Yet he’s charismatic like our mother and a go-getter like our father, so all of his relationships are complex and messy in a way I don’t understand. And I’m not sure I ever want to.
“Sometimes, yeah. I’m sure similar thoughts went into Vivi’s previous relationship too.” She shrugs again, and I know that’s all she’ll say about that. She gossips like a hairdresser on a Saturday morning, still there are some things she refuses to talk about out of respect.
“However, that’s not the point. The point is… a relationship is about balance. Your hard edges need to smooth out theirs, and vice versa. Does that make sense?” I shrug, not really understanding but not sure I wanna have this conversation either. She carries on regardless. “I’ve never had any sort of feeling , but as your mom, I’ve always seen you with someone… less jaded,” she says gently.
“Even from a young age, I could see that this life was going to take a toll on your soft spirit. And despite what anyone might try to tell you, that is your biggest strength. You still love so much after what you’ve been through. You just don’t give it away to anyone.” I can hear the emotion behind her words, and it makes a knot grow in my throat. “I won’t tell you who to be with or try to persuade you. It’s your life, morrita. But I hope you find someone who’s captivated by life and the unknown, someone to smooth those hard edges.”
We don’t say anything for a few minutes. And I appreciate the silence because I’m starting to understand what she means. Or as much as someone with my amount of experience in life can.
There’s no denying that what she says sounds refreshing. Invigorating, even. I am jaded. I’ve felt beaten down and exhausted by life for as long as I can remember. And for the second time today I’m thinking, there’s no guarantee that it is Adrian, but maybe it could be him.