Chapter Thirty-Two
“PASS THE LICORICE, PLEASE,” LOLA mumbled, her words slurring as she sank deeper into the coma-like haze of an all-day movie marathon. Her hand dangled limply toward me, waiting for the candy.
I groaned and reached over to the couch cushion next to me as if the exertion were herculean. It was pathetic. As was the fact that we’d been glued to the couch since ten that morning, drizzly rain drumming softly on the roof like we’d ordered it to set the mood.
In the twelve hours since then, we’d consumed six Dateline episodes—each featuring women who snapped under pressure and murdered their partners—followed by The Break-Up , a YouTube montage of tear-jerking commercials, and now The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement . Because every girl needed to watch that with her sister at least once, and I was bound and determined to make up for lost time with Lola—and, hello, Chris Pine.
I handed Lola the licorice. “Do you think we should eat some protein?”
She barely rolled her head in my direction, her face framed by the faint glow of the TV screen. A pillow had imprinted its seam onto her cheek, and her hair was wild from hours of lying down.
“Nah. Maybe tomorrow,” she said, unapologetically.
“I’m okay with that.” I snuggled closer to her, the quilt pooling around us, as I shoved as many Skittles as I could into my mouth. “ Don’t you think Chris Pine looks a lot like Logan?” I asked, my words garbled as I chewed with my mouth open.
“Oh, chica.” Lola rested her head on my shoulder. “You asked that about Keith Morrison and four of the six men murdered by their wives.”
I giggled, even though I’d been marinating in self-pity all day. “But this time, I really mean it. It’s those amazing blue eyes.”
“You might actually be right this time. But I thought we weren’t talking about the stupid men in our lives.” She viciously ripped off a piece of licorice with her teeth like the candy was to blame for our sad situation.
“Except we keep talking about them,” I reminded her.
We bashed Father Dearest every chance we got, dissecting all his shortcomings and lies. He really was stupid. According to Lola, he’d begged her to tell me how sorry he was. Yeah, he was sorry all right. He wasn’t even man enough to tell me himself. Not that an apology would get him anywhere. I wanted nothing to do with him.
But the other man in my life? I definitely wanted something to do with him. I’d replayed every moment Logan and I had spent together out loud, like a broken record, scratching the same grooves over and over again, wishing our song ended differently. But every time it ended in heartbreak. Even so, I tried not to feel too sorry for myself.
My mom had sent me to Aspen Lake to take life to the limit, and I had. And I knew what I had to do next. I had to walk away with my head held high. Mom had let Maxwell push her to her limits, even past them, and I knew she regretted it. Logan wasn’t Maxwell—not by a long shot—but I wouldn’t let myself repeat her mistakes.
I was walking away from Logan and Maxwell on my own terms. I already felt some major hot shame about running to Logan the night before. Ugh. It was just one more thing that would keep me up at night for years to come.
“Yeah, we do,” Lola sighed in agreement. “It’s just, I can’t believe the Papi I thought I knew is the man I see now.” Her voice cracked like she was shattering inside.
My heart broke for her. For my sister’s sake, I regretted that I’d exposed the truth. “ I’m so sorry, Lola.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” she said with the blazing attitude I’d come to associate with her. I loved it—and her—so much. “This is on him. I hate what he did to you and your mom. And me. I’ve missed you my entire life. He stole that from us. I want compensation.” And then, despite the pain of the situation, she laughed, making me smile.
It made what I had to say next even harder. I steeled myself before asking, “Lola, will you help me finish my mom’s bucket list this weekend?” I only had two items left: dance in the rain and play beach volleyball.
She bolted upright, making the Skittles and the bag of licorice fall to the floor. The tinkling of rainbow candy bouncing on the area rug said the entire bag was a goner.
“You’re going to leave, aren’t you?” Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“I have to.” My voice begged her to understand, my own eyes wet and blurring. “You could come with me—you know, until you have to go back to Wharton. I mean, have you really lived until you’ve seen Nebraska?”
Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure Nebraska was my final destination. All I knew was that I had to go home, start from somewhere familiar, and figure it out from there. Forge my own path. One that took it to the limits. And, of course, I had to get my goldfish, Nancy ... or Nathaniel.
A small grin tugged at my lips despite this crappy situation. I really needed to look up those tubercle things, or whatever they were called, before poor Nancy got officially rechristened. And Claire would kill me if I didn’t come back for at least a while.
“Chica, I want to, but I can’t leave my mamá right now. She’s devastated. I don’t even know if my parents’ marriage will survive this.” Tears spilled over and down her cheeks. “Of course, she doesn’t blame you,” Lola made sure to say. “Honestly, she says she’ll be your mamá. She loves you. The biggest reason she’s upset with Papi is because he denied us a relationship with you all these years. You know, and the fact that he didn’t take responsibility for you.”
Lola didn’t know how much that meant to me. My tears burst onto the scene, flooding my face in moisture. I wrapped my arms around my little sister and held on tight, our sobs mingling together for what we’d missed out on, but also for what we’d gained—each other. It made all of this worth it.
Lola shook against me as I smoothed her gorgeous dark hair. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. I’m always going to be here for you. If you need me, I will spend every dime I have on a plane ticket.”
“I know. But you know I would never let you do that. I have a lot of money.” She giggled.
“Yeah, I got that feeling,” I teased her.
“You know, Papi would give you anything you want if you asked.”
“I’ll never ask him for anything. Besides, the only thing I ever wanted from my father , I don’t think he can give to me.”
“What’s that?”
“To know that he wanted me and that I belonged with him,” I said, the words catching in my throat. “But I don’t belong here. I wanted to believe I could be part of the Aspen Lake crowd, or at least Logan’s crowd, but just like my mom, I have to own that this place isn’t me. But unlike her, I have to move on from it. I don’t know if she ever did. Honestly, I think she always loved your dad—our father.” I was still wrapping my head around that. “She probably hated herself for it. But the magic of this place must have gotten to her, and she never let that go. Maybe she thought things could be different for me here, but I have to face the truth—I have to find my magic somewhere else and with someone who’s not Logan.”
I hated admitting that because I knew we were good together, but it was clear he didn’t feel the same way.
Lola snuggled more into me. “I know you have to go, but I think you do belong here. You don’t need our father or Logan for that.” She spoke with such certainty, it was almost enough to make me believe it. But my feelings were too raw to even entertain the thought. And my bank account wanted to disagree. I had a healthy balance at the moment, but that wouldn’t last long in Aspen Lake.
“Will you help me finish my summer bucket list?” I whispered.
She nodded against me, sniffling.
Feeling a burst of adrenaline and knowing what I had to do, I jumped up and pulled Lola along with me. “Let’s go dance in the rain.”
I dragged her through the darkened house and out the back door to the charming deck full of potted flowers and the cutest patio furniture. Oh, was I going to miss this place.
The cool rain greeted us and kissed my warm skin. I wished it could wash away some of the sadness, but that was going to take a lot more than rain. We grabbed each other’s hands and twirled together like two little girls. Little girls who had missed out on so many years together and all the memories like this that we should have had. The tears, though, soon became laughter. And I decided that was what I would take with me from this place: all the laughter and even all the love—the spoken and unspoken.
Thank you, Mom, for my sister and lifelong friend, I whispered to myself. I now knew this was truly who my mother had meant to give me. But the lingering question was, why in the world would she have ever wanted me to have a summer fling?