Thirty-three
Danica
A week later, the morning sun rises as I pull at the waistband of my running shorts. They hang loose after the miles I’ve pounded out on the pavement, each step an attempt to outrun thoughts of Austin. But no matter how fast or far I go, there’s no escaping him. It’s been two weeks since the EnergiFusion party and the last time I saw him.
I push myself hard as I run the Embarcadero. I’ve lost more than weight. Sleep now eludes me, snatched away by images of him—always him—and that damn green Lamborghini, a flash of ostentatious speed that cuts through the City’s streets and straight into my heart.
I round the corner, and there he is again, larger than life on the flatscreen in the electronics store window. EnergiFusion’s logo glints behind his head, and beside him, Sandrine, radiant in red, is clutching his arm. My breath catches, and for a moment, I can’t tell if it’s the run or the sharp sting of losing something who it seems was never mine.
“Come on,” I mutter to myself, pushing past the pain. “Keep moving.”
Back at Anna’s place, with Mischa winding around my ankles, I finally admit the truth. I can’t stay here, not with Austin’s shadow cast over every corner of San Francisco. I need space, clarity…Yardley.
Pick up my phone and call my sister. “How’s the wedding planning going?” I ask as soon as she answers.
“It’s good. Have you picked out a bridesmaid dress? Anna said she was leaving it up to you.”
“I’m still trying to decide.” I take a deep swig of water. “I was thinking about coming up next weekend. I can fly out Friday afternoon and come back early Monday morning. What do you think?”
“I can’t wait!”
A long weekend in Seattle, drowned in wedding plans and sisterly love, might be the perfect respite. With shaky fingers, I book the cheapest flight I can find. I’ll leave early afternoon and land in Seattle soon enough that we’ll miss some of the Friday traffic. Wedding planning with Yardley. That’s what I need.
I push through the next week, taking pains to leave things firmly in hand at my office, and then when lunch time arrives on Friday, I head for the airport. The BART ride to Oakland feels like a pilgrimage, each stop an exhale, releasing bits of San Francisco—and Austin—from the tangle of my mind. It feels good to take tangible steps toward something different, something healing.
“Goodbye, San Francisco,” I whisper as the plane ascends, breaking through the clouds. “Hello, Seattle.” I try to read, but nothing holds my attention. I need a break. But this weekend in Seattle is going to give that to me.
Once we land, I weave through the maze of weary travelers. The buzz of the airport fades when I spot her, not Yardley but Mom leaning against the railing, scanning the crowd until she finds me. I’m so excited she’s here. What a wonderful, unexpected surprise.
“Danica!” she calls.
“Hey, Mom.” My voice sounds foreign, strained from the flight or maybe from the effort to appear okay. I let go of the handle of my suitcase, and she engulfs me in a hug that smells like lavender and home. “What a great surprise.”
“I couldn’t let you sneak into town and not see you.” Pulling back, she examines me with a frown, her fingers ghosting over my arm. “You’re looking so thin, honey. Is everything okay?”
“Running,” I say, brushing off the concern. “It helps with the stress from work.”
“That sounds very healthy. Good for you.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she lets it go, grabbing the handle of my suitcase and leading us toward the parking lot.
As we drive toward Yardley’s house, the traffic takes her focus, and I’m grateful for the silence, which gives me time to gather the thoughts swirling like leaves in a storm. But there’s one thought, one question, that’s been tugging at me, growing heavier with each mile we travel between the airport and our destination.
“How are you enjoying San Francisco?” Mom asks before I can speak. “I’m hoping you’ll move back when Anna returns.”
“Honestly, I haven’t decided. I love my job. But I’ve been pretty spoiled living in Anna’s loft while she’s been gone.”
“Are you saving any money?”
“As much as I can. It’s an expensive place to live, but I try not to eat out too much and avoid Union Square.”
“What’s in Union Square?”
“It’s shopping at The Bravern on steroids.”
She laughs. “Are you making time to go out with friends?”
“Marisa and I get together quite a bit. Most of the people I work with are married or in long-term partnerships.”
“So you haven’t been dating? I thought Yardley told me you were seeing someone. She thought you might bring him home this weekend to meet us.”
My heart lurches. “No, I’m single. I was seeing someone, but not anymore.”
“I know your dad and I were not good examples, but you deserve to find happiness.”
“Mom…” I start, hesitant. “Why did you stay with Dad after…everything?”
She sighs, a long, heavy breath that seems to carry years of unspoken sorrow. “We made a vow, Danica. For better or worse.”
“But he cheated on you regularly. He broke that vow. And then he left you for…” My words trail off, the bitterness hard to swallow. He’s living with her best friend somewhere in Florida now.
“Your father was very clear. If I left, he’d fight for full custody. And he would’ve won, He had the money, and he was a partner in a big law firm with a whole group of family lawyers.” Her knuckles whiten on the steering wheel.
I recoil, stunned by the admission. “You never said—”
“It wasn’t your burden to bear.” She gives me a sidelong glance, her eyes softening. “I wanted you girls to have options. To be strong and confident. That was something I could give you.”
My heart clenches, admiration and anguish flooding in. There’s been a lifetime of sacrifice and resilience I’m only beginning to understand.
“Thanks, Mom.” It’s all I can manage as I stare out the window, watching the Seattle skyline come into view. “Did you ever regret it?” I ask after a moment. “Staying with him?”
Her gaze remains fixed on the road, but her lips purse slightly before she answers. “I loved your father, Danica. Despite everything. But I was stuck. With no money, no education…” She shakes her head slowly. “I did what I had to do for you and your sister, made sure you both went to school and learned to hold your heads up high.”
The car slows gently as we pull into a parking spot near Yardley’s quaint house, nestled in the West Union neighborhood. I reach for the door handle but pause to look at Mom.
Her eyes meet mine. “Never think I didn’t want better for you girls. And I’ve never spoken ill of him to you because that’s between your father and me. It mattered that you both kept a relationship with him.” She smiles weakly. “I wasn’t easy to live with either, but look at me now. I’m happy.”
“Mom…” Emotion tightens my throat, and I have to swallow hard to find my voice again. “Thank you. For everything.”
When she nods, I step out of the car, and she follows. The weight of our conversation lingers, but the sight of Yardley’s place offers a glimmer of normalcy.
“Danica!” Yardley flings open the front door, her smile wide and welcoming. “Come in! I’m so happy to see you! I’ve got so much to show you! And hey to you too, Mom.” She looks around me and her face falls. “I thought you might be bringing Austin.”
I shake my head. “We still haven’t spoken.”
Yardley makes a face. “Well, fine then. You don’t want some man who chooses his mother over you. Good riddance. But I have to say, you were a beautiful couple, and that dress was to die for. Maybe you should wear that for my wedding?”
I laugh as I follow Yardley into her living room, which seems to have become wedding central. “That’s not a bridesmaid’s dress. Plus, Anna would freak. That blue would look terrible on her.”
“How much did you pay for it?”
“Austin bought it for me. It’s an Oscar de la Renta.”
Yardley’s eyes grow big. “That man really had it bad for you.”
“ Had being the operative word.”
Jack and Mom join us, talking about something going on with the condo.
I hug Jack as the ladies take seats in front of the coffee table. “Are you excited?”
He looks at my sister like the sun rises and sets on her. “I only asked a dozen times before she said yes.”
Yardley rolls her eyes. “You didn’t even know my name the first time you asked.”
I laugh, thinking again of the story. They were in line for the concession stand at a UCLA versus USC football game. His friends dared him to make a scene, so he got down on his knee and proposed to Yardley, not having any idea who she was. He told her he’d always wanted to marry a girl from USC. People stopped to stare, and just to spite him, she said yes. They had a lot in common, and turns out both of them had grown up here in Seattle. Eventually, they started dating, though he didn’t hold her to the engagement until later. If only it was always that easy to meet the right guy.
A little while later, I’ve stowed my things in the guest room, Mom is doing something in the kitchen, and Yardley and I are back to attending to the business at hand.
“Look at this one,” Yardley says, pointing to one of the bridal magazines spread out on the coffee table. Lace and tulle spill across the pages. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“Beautiful,” I agree, flipping through another one. I’ve done my homework, bookmarking photos and scribbling notes on sticky tabs. “But check out the designs I found.” I retrieve my folder, brimming with dress ideas I hope will catch her eye.
“Anna’s going to be back from Paris in a few months,” Yardley says, settling beside me on the plush couch. “It’ll just be the two of you in the wedding. So, whatever you pick, make sure it’s something you love and will wear again.”
Eventually, Mom joins us, and Jack passes through periodically, going between the kitchen and his home office. As a third-year associate in his law firm, he has long hours to put in for a big case that’s coming up.
We spend the next few hours leafing through magazines, exchanging ideas, and laughing over memories. “I’m glad you’re here to help,” Mom tells me. “Yardley needs someone more in tune with this than me.” She wraps her arm over my shoulder and squeezes.
The ease of our conversation holds my recent heartache at bay. Mom’s laughter mingles with ours, and for a while, we’re just three women, united in happiness and anticipation.
As dusk settles outside, I lean back against the cushions, content amid the clutter of bridal magazines and fabric swatches. This is what I needed—simple, unguarded camaraderie. Here, in the comfort of Yardley’s small home, I can breathe again.
Then Yardley holds up a dress that captures us both, a delicate confection of lace and silk that seems to glow in the fading light. “This might be it,” she breathes, and my heart flutters in agreement.
“Yardley, it’s perfect,” I murmur, tracing the intricate patterns with my fingers. The dress is timeless, elegant, a mirror of my sister’s quiet strength.
She beams, and for a fleeting moment, Austin’s shadow retreats completely from my thoughts. We hug, our laughter filling the room, and I bask in the joy of this find. This dress is a promise of new beginnings, love, commitment.
We’re still ooh ing and ahh ing when Jack brings out a tray from Paseo’s, our favorite sandwich place. We take a break from wedding stuff to catch up while we eat, though I limit my update to what’s going on with me at Unmanned. As we’re cleaning up, Mom gives me a tight hug.
“I’m going home, but come back again soon,” she says. “I miss you.”
“I promise I will,” I assure her. “I love you.”
She waves goodbye, and Jack returns to his home office, leaving us to get back to wedding planning. “What’s next?” I ask Yardley. “I feel like we’ve made good progress on dresses.”
She claps her hands. “Let’s do venue next.”
“Bring it on!”
“Look at these,” she says as we sprawl across her living room floor, surrounded by brochures and images. She hands me photos of Skamania Lodge, nestled among towering trees and verdant landscapes overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the Columbia River. “This is the venue we have reserved. It’s not far from Portland, so you and Anna will be able to fly in easily. Outdoors, yes, but look at this pavilion.”
I take in the chandelier and all the white lights. “Yardley, it’s beautiful! And this covered area? It’s like it was made for your wedding day.”
She nods. “Mother Nature won’t stand a chance against this place.” We discuss logistics, menus, and music, plans weaving together.
When it’s finally time for bed, I head to the guest room. The house is quiet, but the muffled sound of turning pages tells me Yardley is still poring over details. Alone with my thoughts, I sink to the bed with a sigh.
Austin’s face comes unbidden into my mind. I remember the way his mouth would curve up, the way that seemed only for me, replaced by the stony expression he wore the last time we spoke. My chest tightens, the hurt sharpening like a knife twist.
Why have you pushed me away? Why won’t you at least talk to me?
I curl up under the sheets, clutching the pillow as if it could absorb my pain. Tears spill onto the fabric, soaking it with the sorrow of lost love. No matter how much I’ve tried to distract myself, to live in the moment with my sister, Austin’s rejection haunts me here in the darkness. How long will I feel this way?