Chapter 30 Lili
Thirty
Lili
The sun is cresting the rooftops, its golden light brushing the edges of the sky, when I find myself heading back to McCleave’s
later that week. Goldie has her face lifted up to the early morning warmth, eyes closed as she pedals without a care in the
world.
“So does this mean you forgive me?” I’ve been asking her the same question for days of nonstop sister bonding, and she always
gives me the same answer.
She keeps her eyes closed. “Maybe.”
“And what exactly do I have to do to get more than a maybe?” I joke, but my voice carries a note of longing.
“Be a better sister.”
My foot slips off my pedal and the bike wobbles before I can straighten it again. She didn’t even say it harshly, but she
didn’t have to.
I watch her profile, thinking how grown-up she suddenly looks. “There are so many things I wish I could do over from this
summer.”
She rolls her eyes. “I know, I know, Tour Guy.”
I reach out to tap her arm until she looks at me.
“Yes, things with him. But with you, too.” I inject a note of softness into my voice, so she can hear how serious I am.
“Goldie, I don’t ever want you to feel like you and Mom aren’t the most important people in my life.
I got caught up with a lot of things and I didn’t notice what you were trying to tell me.
I know Dad used to do that with us, and he missed out on a lot because of it.
I don’t want to be that way with you, and I’m really sorry. ”
Goldie pedals her bike as she looks at me, gauging me, and then she says, “Okay.”
“Okay?” I almost laugh at her single syllable response. “That’s it? You’re not gonna make me grovel or be your servant for
a week to earn your forgiveness?”
She screws her face up. “I’m not nine anymore.”
No, she’s not, and I think we both know she’s letting me off easy.
“So you liked that Wren guy, huh?”
Or maybe not so easy. “Yeah.”
“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?”
I lower my head until I’m staring at the road under my tires. It comes out like more of an exhale when I say, “Yeah.”
“Well, I think he should’ve picked you.”
My throat gets tight as I look at her, caught between a smile and tears. “His girlfriend is actually really great.”
“So are you.” Before I can react to the sweetness I absolutely haven’t earned from her, she’s standing up on her pedals and
racing ahead of me.
I ride the high of Goldie’s words until we’re standing in front of the museum a few minutes later and I’m clutching my bike handles like a lifeline. The air is cool and crisp, but heat prickles along my skin.
Goldie skips beside her bike, her excitement palpable, as we guide them to the rack. “I can’t wait to see the mermaid. And
you said they’re adding a boy mermaid too? Do you think they’ll let us see it?”
I shrug, trying to match her enthusiasm. “I guess we’ll find out. Can you lock the bikes while I make sure there’s someone
here to let us in?”
She grins in response. “On it!”
The truth is, I’m dreading seeing Wren again. It’s only been a few days since I was here, but I still don’t know how to make
things better. Or if that’s even possible.
That realization slows my steps as I reach for the door, only to have it swing open before I can touch it.
Tate leans against the frame, wearing a T-shirt with an outline of Rhode Island next to one of Nantucket, with a caption that
says, That’s not an island. That’s an island. He’s eyeing me like he doesn’t think I should be here.
I don’t exactly disagree, but I made a promise to my sister and I’m not breaking any more of those, so I eye him back. Neither
of us says anything.
Goldie skids to a stop beside me a few seconds later. “Okay, we can go in now.”
“Oh, can we?” Tate turns and stares at my sister, causing me to tense and inch a hand protectively toward her. I’m not about
to let him take his apparent anger with me out on her.
He looks her over. “So you’re the sister?”
She stares back. “And you’re some guy I don’t know.”
I press my lips together to muffle a laugh, then drop my guard. Goldie’s just fine all on her own.
He continues looking at her, then offers her an Oreo from the mini pack at his side—he doesn’t offer one to me—and asks, “How
do you eat yours?”
She answers by shoving the entire cookie into her mouth.
“Efficient,” he says, before popping his own cookie into his mouth.
They smile at each other. And just like that, they’re friends.
Tate stands back against the wall for us to pass. The museum won’t open to the public for another couple of hours, so none
of the backlights have been switched on yet. The gift shop is partially dark too, with just a few display-case lights adding
a glow to the room.
Goldie doesn’t need light though. She spots the table of Nerissa T-shirts and immediately starts grabbing at them, begging
me to buy her a new one.
“I’m an unpaid volunteer,” I remind her, easing the fabric from her hands and smoothing out the folded shirts.
“With an employee discount,” Tate says, piling more into her eager arms.
Goldie grins at him. “What’s the most expensive thing in the gift shop?”
Tate smiles back, twisting to face one of the large blown-glass figurines on the shelf behind the register.
I looked at the price tag once and nearly choked, and still break into a sweat every time I have to dust it. “No!” I say,
before he can point it out. “You can have one shirt, one.”
Goldie makes a grumbling sound that fades as soon as Tate offers her another Oreo.
“There’s nothing that amazing in here anyway. We keep the real mermaids locked up.” He pulls a keyring from his pocket. “Wanna sneak a peek at the new one before anybody else gets to see it?”
They take off so fast that I nearly drop the T-shirts in my hands. “What happened to wanting to spend more time together?”
I call after her.
“I see you all the time, I live with you. Right now, I want to check out the mermaid with this guy!”
I faintly hear him tell her his name as I start to refold the shirts, only to jump as another, much closer voice speaks from
behind me.
“His younger brothers taught him all the kid tricks,” Wren says. “That, and he always has snacks.”
His voice is casual, light, but it still makes my pulse stutter. I force my eyes down to the shirts in front of me, trying
to focus. My hands are moving too fast now, my fingers shaking a little as I try to keep folding.
It’s not that I mind Goldie picking Tate over me. It’s more that I was planning on keeping her glued to my side today so I
wouldn’t have to deal with being alone with Wren. Just me and him. The last time we were together, things shifted, and I don’t
know how to shift them back.
“All his kid tricks seem to cost me money.” I lift a T-shirt then gesture to the register. “Want to”—I stop a split second
before saying “check me out” and instead say—“ring me up?”
Thankfully, Wren doesn’t react to my halted sentence and moves behind the counter, reaching down to power on the register.
We wait for the boot-up sequence to start.
“My sister and I—well, mostly Goldie—talked with Mrs. Mayhew about donating portions of her husband’s collection to McCleave’s, and she’s happy to give you whatever you want.”
Wren’s gaze drops to the counter, shoulders tensing. “Yeah, she called to make the offer herself. My dad agreed to let me
look, but we can’t promise her anything in terms of displays. Mostly I’m hoping to sort out anything of financial value for
her future.”
I nod, aching over the helplessness I know he feels having to say that.
“But thank you,” he adds, his voice carefully even, as though he’s trying to smooth over his frustration with his dad before
it spills out. “I’ve offered several times to help her, but she never would have accepted if your sister hadn’t found those
letters.”
We’re quiet for a moment too long, and I wonder if this is how it’s always going to be between us—forced politeness and awkward
silences. “Yeah, I mean, you’re welcome.” The words feel like stones in my mouth. I clear my throat. “Do you know when—” I
start, but Wren interrupts me.
“Tate is going to pick up the boxes later this week and bring everything here for me to go through.” He pauses. “I didn’t
know if you’d want to be around for that.”
My gut tightens. Yes, I want to be there, but the thought of being so close to him again, of working side by side, weighing
every word like it might crack something else wide open, fills me with dread. And now I’m worrying that there was something
in the way he spoke just now that means he thinks I should say no, or at least is hoping I will.
Everything with Wren and me aside, I can’t forget why I sought him out in the first place, or the promise I made to find the answers my dad couldn’t. I need to know if that letter we found is real and whether or not there’s more to find. And I can’t do that on my own.
“I still don’t know for sure who she was. I can’t walk away until I do.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I could either.” He almost smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that feels like a wave breaking too far
out, barely touching the shore before it pulls back. Then his gaze lowers to the computer screen almost gratefully when the
login prompt appears.
The clacking of the keyboard is the only thing I hear as I fold and refold the shirt even though I know it’s going to get
tossed into a bag. The POS software initializes, running its checks, connecting to the barcode scanner and receipt printer
with a few soft beeps. The familiar sounds should settle my nerves a bit, grounding me in the perfectly fine and professional
routine.
Instead everything echoes miserably.
“Is this really how it’s going to be between you and me from now on?” I lift my gaze to Wren’s. “Because I don’t think I can
keep doing this.”
Wearily he says, “You can go find Tate and your sister.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“What do you want me to say, Lili?” His voice cracks, just a little. The sound of my name on his lips feels different now,
rougher, like it’s been scraped against something sharp.
I flinch but I can’t stop myself. “I don’t know, but I hate feeling this way and I hate that I hurt Eryn and you. And I know
it doesn’t change anything, but I’m so sorry.”
At first I think he’s going to blow me off or even tell me to leave again, but he doesn’t. He looks right at me. “I’m the one at fault here. You didn’t do this”—he raises his voice when I open my mouth to interrupt him—“and I’m the one who has a girlfriend.”
My heart pounds painfully at the present-tense reference to Eryn. I just assumed they broke up, but only now am I realizing
how naive that was. And how wrong it was for me to subconsciously hope they had.
“Or maybe I only had a girlfriend. I still don’t know.”
My heart clenches, but I keep my face neutral. “You haven’t talked to her?”
He grabs a pen and twists it in his hand. “I keep trying, but she’s not ready to talk to me yet.”
His head is tilted just slightly forward, and it’s painfully obvious what he wants. “You want her to forgive you.” I have
to fight the urge to cry.
“I don’t want her to hate me.”
“I don’t think Eryn could hate anyone.”
His smile doesn’t touch his eyes. “She might make an exception for me.” Then he drops his head before lifting it again. “It’s
hard to explain, but we’ve been together for four years.”
“That’s a long time.” Especially considering they aren’t even twenty yet.
“It’s more than the years, it’s everything that happened during that time.” His features twist and his breathing grows heavier.
“I didn’t want anyone around after my accident, but she knew I needed her, so she was there, no matter what. She’s always
been there for me, and I—it’s not like I owe her, but it would feel like a betrayal of some kind to give up on us, when she
never did.”
He falls silent after that, pinning me with an intensity I can’t escape, like he’s willing me to understand something he barely understands himself. “Before you, that had never been hard to do. But, Lili, if—”
“No, don’t, please.” I close my eyes as if that will somehow stop his words. I take a step back until almost the full length
of the counter is between us. He’s not moving toward me or even reaching out in my direction, but I still feel the need for
the added physical distance between us. “I don’t need you to say anything else. In fact, I’m asking you not to.” My eyes trace
over him, instinctively taking in the way his dark hair curls just a little at the edges, the conflict in his eyes as they
dart away from mine. And then his jaw. It’s tight, a warning, like he’s on the edge of saying something that would ruin us
both. “I understand, more than you know, but I can’t hear you say it, okay?” I don’t think I could handle that.
I hurry off in search of Tate and Goldie before the ache in my ribs becomes any harder to breathe through. I know I don’t
have a right to want Wren to choose me, but it still hurts to know he won’t.