Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Kiera
Mid-afternoon sun cast the cabin in dim light as Pete, Danica, and Kiera shared snacks, the plane's hum a steady background to their makeshift inflight feast. Kiera and Danica were sharing a selection of trail mix, dried mango, and dark chocolate covered pretzels. Pete, on the other hand, was working her way through an entire bag of Sour Patch Kids with the reckless abandon of someone who had never once worried about a sugar crash.
Kiera, needing a distraction more than food, picked the pepitas from her trail mix. The conversation around them had dulled to an indistinct murmur, with most passengers either dozing or mindlessly scrolling through their phones. Across the aisle, a man snored softly against the window, his head bobbing with each minor bump of turbulence. The hush of the plane, coupled with the dim glow from the overhead reading lights, gave the moment a surreal feeling of being paused in time.
Kiera could still see Izzy’s back as she’d walked away, disappearing into her bedroom. Then, this morning, disappearing completely without saying goodbye. Kiera had expected awkwardness, had anticipated tension, perhaps even a little giddiness, but she hadn’t expected Izzy to flee like she was escaping a crime scene. She’d awoken with the intention of having a long talk with Izzy about what that kiss meant, but Pete had broken the news gently over a cup of coffee. Danica and Maggie were surprised that Izzy had to leave early, and Pete had given her a long, knowing look. How the tables had turned since Telluride, when Kiera had been the one giving knowing looks and leaving early.
The mood had shifted into something slightly awkward and reserved, but the last day of a trip was always difficult for various reasons, with Danica trying to convince everyone to be at the airport four hours early and Maggie attempting to put makeup on around her bandage. They’d gone to brunch, then carpooled to the airport in the rental car. The terminal was small enough that they could all sit together before their flights, though none of them were very energized after the three day trip. After Danica had made sure Maggie took a decongestant and ibuprofen to help with her nose swelling, they'd parted ways to board their own flight.
Now, Danica stretched her legs as best she could in the cramped row, sighing as she shifted against the headrest. “I wish this plane had First Class."
"Okay, bougie girl. I let you fly First Class three times and now you're too good for Comfort Plus?" Pete sighed dramatically and shook her head.
"You only have yourself to blame," Danica joked, before glancing sideways at Kiera.
Kiera said nothing, too distracted and disconnected to pay attention, and reached for her water bottle to take a slow sip.
"You doing okay? This weekend was weird, right?" Danica asked. "What was with Izzy leaving so suddenly?"
“I’m fine.” Kiera hadn't told anyone about the kiss, and she wasn't sure if Izzy had told Pete. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and pushed her glasses up her nose, fidgeting.
Danica let out a quiet snort, shaking her head as she turned toward Pete. “You know, it's pretty rich, because Izzy called me a coward for running away in Telluride.”
Pete, who had been mid-chew, stilled. Her usual lazy grin flickered, her eyes narrowed just a fraction. “Come on,” she said, her voice quieter, gentle. “She's just protective."
Kiera glanced between them, catching the way Danica’s expression softened. "She is very protective over you , and vice versa. Clearly. That doesn't mean she's not being slightly hypocritical," Danica said, her eyebrows raised.
Pete shook her head, popping another sour gummy into her mouth.
Danica exhaled, running a hand through her hair before offering a small, reluctant nod. “In Izzy's defense, she was right at the time,” she said, backtracking with an apologetic smile.
Pete silently snagged a piece of dried mango from Danica then nodded, like that was all she needed to say.
Kiera watched the quiet exchange, the way Pete’s fingers brushed against Danica’s wrist as she leaned back into her seat, the way Danica’s smile turned softer, her body relaxing just a little. Years of mess and uncertainty couldn't break them. They found their way back to each other, a simple, unshakable bond.
She busied herself with rifling through the trail mix to pick out more pepitas, looking away as Pete leaned in to whisper something into Danica’s ear. Whatever it was, Danica laughed, tilting her head toward Pete like magnetism alone drew her in.
Kiera had never had that. Definitely not with Alex.
She thought about the night she left him, the way she had stood in their too-large kitchen, staring at the backsplash she had picked out herself, and said, I'm leaving. I know you're having an affair, and I'm done. She had expected a fight, some kind of protest, but Alex had only sighed, tired and resigned, and said, Alright.
That was it. Alright . As if anything would ever be right ever again. There were no grand declarations, no last-minute attempts to salvage their life together. Just the continued quiet unraveling of something that had already frayed beyond repair.
Then had come the custody talk, or rather, the lack of custody talk. Alex had agreed to Kiera taking full custody of the girls, with a few visits during school breaks. He’d come to see the girls around Christmas, and he planned to take them back to Omaha for a week or two in the summer, but that was it. That disconnection hurt more than any other part of the divorce, but it was no longer her job to make him into a father.
The overhead speaker crackled, and the pilot announced their descent into Denver. Pete and Danica exchanged a glance before Pete reached over and squeezed Danica’s knee, grinning as Danica rolled her eyes but didn’t move away.
Kiera exhaled, adjusting in her seat as she stared out the window at the city lights blinking below. The lingering pain of the heartbreak of divorce felt familiar as her chest ached now, thinking of Izzy landing early in San Francisco, pretending none of this ever happened.
And Kiera had no idea what to do about that.
When Kiera finally pulled up to her parents’ house, she immediately spotted the sleek silver car parked in the driveway.
Frowning, she climbed out of the Uber, exhaustion pressing down on her as she grabbed her bag and made her way inside.
The smell of her mom’s burnt sage hit her first, but it was the familiar scent of rose perfume that made her pause in the doorway.
“Aunt Jade,” Kiera realized aloud, as she stepped into the living room.
And there she was, poised effortlessly on the couch, a half-empty glass of red wine balanced between two perfectly manicured fingers. Aunt Jade was opposite to her sister in every way — modern, chic, refined, practically glowing with self-assurance. Her tailored linen pants were a stark contrast to the loose, patterned dresses Kiera’s mom favored, and the delicate gold jewelry she wore looked like it belonged in a magazine spread.
“Well, well,” Jade said, setting her glass down on the coffee table with a warm smile. “Look who finally decided to return to civilization.”
Kiera sighed, dropping her bag at her feet and giving her aunt a gentle hug, afraid she might wrinkle her carefully pressed clothing. “Hi, Aunt Jade.”
She barely had time to steady herself before a blur of strawberry-stained cheeks and tangled dark hair came barreling toward her.
“Mama!” Eliza shrieked, launching herself at Kiera with all the force of a child who had spent the past few days running free and untamed. Quinn was only a second behind, her little arms wrapping around Kiera’s waist as she squeezed in between them.
“You’re back!” Eliza beamed up at her. “Grandma and Grandpa let us name the new chickens!”
Kiera blinked, her travel-weary brain struggling to catch up. “Wait, what new chickens?”
“The new chickens, Mama!” Quinn echoed, bouncing on her heels. “Grandpa built them a house and everything!”
Kiera shot her parents a look over her daughters’ heads, but her dad just grinned, unrepentant as ever, as he casually sipped his tea.
“Of course he did,” she muttered, before turning her attention back to her girls. “Alright, hit me with the names. What’d you pick?”
Eliza, held her head high to share the news. “Mine is named Chiquitita,” she declared proudly. “Like the ABBA song!”
Kiera pressed a hand to her heart, overwhelmed with pride. “That is an excellent name.”
Quinn wiggled in excitement, already impatient for her turn. “And mine is Chicken Nugget Rocketship!”
Kiera let out a bark of laughter, scooping Quinn into her arms as she kissed the top of her head. “Wow, that’s… that’s also a name, alright.”
“I was gonna name her just Chicken Nugget, but then I thought, what if she wants to fly?” Quinn explained, entirely serious.
"Very wise." Kiera smiled, glancing at her dad. “And you let them do this?”
Her dad spread his hands wide, his sun hat hanging by a string around his neck. He smiled and attempted to look bashful. “They made compelling arguments.”
Her mom, clearly trying to suppress a laugh, placed a warm hand on Kiera’s shoulder. “They’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Thankfully, they don't have Jade's fear of mud."
"You should see the state of their nails," Aunt Jade said, and Kiera could have sworn her eye was twitching.
Kiera finally took in the full picture — both girls were caked in dirt, their fingernails practically black, their socks grass-stained. She sighed but smiled all the same. “Alright, my little garden fairies, go upstairs and shower before dinner, please."
Eliza and Quinn groaned in unison, but Kiera was already ushering them toward the stairs. “No arguments. If you want to play with Chiquitita and Chicken Nugget Rocketship after school tomorrow, you need to at least pretend to be clean humans.”
As they dragged their feet toward the hall, Kiera turned back to Aunt Jade, who was watching the whole scene with an amused expression, twirling her glass of rosé between two fingers.
“You, my dear niece, could use a summer somewhere with fewer farm animals and more cocktails,” Jade said with a tip of her glass.
Kiera sighed, rubbing her temple. “Give me a minute. I’m still processing the fact that Mom and Dad have chickens."
Her mom appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “We rescued them."
Kiera narrowed her eyes in skepticism. "Where did you rescue the chickens from?"
"Just a neighbor down the street. They were going to eat them," her mom said with a concerned expression.
"Tell me you didn't steal our neighbor's chickens, Mom."
"No, your father went up to the door and paid for them, of course. We're not criminals."
Aunt Jade closed her eyes as she sighed. "Ask John what he paid for them."
"Two Costco rotisserie chickens," her dad said proudly.
"And that worked?" Kiera blinked, looking back and forth between her parents, feeling a combination of worry, amusement, and general confusion.
"No," her dad laughed. "They wanted $50 each for them."
"You paid $100 for chickens?"
"No," her mom said with a laugh. "Jade did, though."
Aunt Jade dissented loudly, but all three were still laughing as Kiera’s mom and dad headed upstairs to check on the girls.
"You're just as bad as they are," Kiera said, looking back to her aunt with a laugh of disbelief.
“I did bring wine, if that helps,” Aunt Jade said, shrugging and daintily crossing her legs.
Kiera collapsed onto the couch beside her, exhaustion pulling at her limbs. “It does. So, what’s the occasion?”
Aunt Jade arched an eyebrow. “Can’t I just visit my favorite niece?”
Kiera raised a skeptical brow.
Aunt Jade sighed dramatically, pouring Kiera a glass from the bottle on the coffee table. “Alright, I came to talk about your next steps. Why are you still chasing a teaching job like it’s your dream?”
Kiera groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. “Aunt Jade…”
“Just hear me out,” Aunt Jade interrupted smoothly, reaching for her wine again. “I know you decided against alimony, and even with Alex paying you for your half of the house… How can I help? If it’s a down payment for a house you need, I’m here for you, my love.”
Kiera sighed. “You’ve already helped plenty. And it’s not just money.”
Aunt Jade blinked slowly, watching her. “Then what is it?”
Kiera hesitated, swirling her wine glass slowly, watching the deep red liquid catch the dim light of the living room. It wasn’t just one thing — it was everything. Signing a lease would make it real in a way it hadn’t been before. And then there was Alex, who had worked and traveled so much that the girls barely asked about him now. Alex, who had barely blinked when she walked out, who had treated their marriage like a worn-out sweater — comfortable but ultimately disposable. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for. Closure? A sign? A version of herself prepared to leave it all behind without looking back? She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "It's complicated," she finally admitted. “And I’ve applied to so many jobs. I’m just waiting to hear back.”
Aunt Jade sighed and sipped her wine. “What districts are you applying in? Maybe I know someone who can pull a string. Or, perhaps there’s an extra certification I can help you pay for to make your application stand out. Have you thought about branching out to other grades?”
Kiera groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. “Aunt Jade, I do appreciate the worry. Really. I’m fine, though. I’ll figure it out.”
“I know it’s far, but if you’d like to stay at the condo?—”
“To be honest, the idea of letting my children into your perfect condo in Telluride is enough to make me want to set myself on fire,” Kiera admitted. “It was bad enough trying to convince my friends not to break things.”
Before Aunt Jade could respond, the sound of feet stomping down the stairs interrupted them. Eliza and Quinn appeared, their hair still damp from their showers, looking up at Kiera expectantly.
“Pizza party?” Eliza asked, eyes wide with hope.
Quinn nodded furiously. “Grandma said we could!”
“Pizza sounds perfect,” Kiera said with a nod. The girls cheered, and Kiera stood, knowing full-well that her parents were going to try making some strange dough recipe with an alarming amount of nutritional yeast.
Jade gave her a knowing look. “Consider it, darling.”
Kiera rolled her eyes but clinked her glass against Jade’s anyway. “I’ll think about it.”
Kiera had set out for a Pilates class, taking Izzy’s advice to heart. She adjusted her gym bag over her shoulder and slowed as she passed a sleek studio with floor-to-ceiling windows. The gold lettering on the glass read Luna Pole & Aerial . Just as she glanced inside, two effortlessly cool women — one sporting bright pink hair and the other filling out a pair of booty shorts that screamed confidence — opened the door to the sounds of laughter and Chappell Roan. The way they entered, strong and self-assured, made Kiera slow.
She paused at the window, her sneakers scuffing against the sidewalk as she stopped, taking in the way the polished chrome poles gleamed. She had never considered pole fitness before, but the space, the women of all shapes and sizes walking in without a second thought, intrigued her.
The door swung open, and a woman with a high ponytail and an easy smile paused, holding it open for her. "Are you here for the 6 p.m. class?"
Kiera's mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. She had mentally, physically, and emotionally prepared herself for Pilates. She knew what to expect there, knew the routine. Pole fitness? That was an entirely different world. She’d heard pole fitness was a hard workout, and Kiera wasn’t sure she possessed the right amount of sex appeal she’d need.
"Oh, no. I mean, no, I'm just—" With a vague gesture, she attempted to justify her presence outside, peering through the window like a voyeur. "Sorry, no, I’m not."
The woman gave her a knowing smile but just nodded. "Maybe next time."
Kiera forced a small smile and hurried away, heading for the Pilates studio down the block. Inside, the scent of eucalyptus and the low drone of meditative music surrounded her with familiarity, but she still felt out of place. She glanced at the women on each reformer beside her and instantly felt self-conscious — about not only her body, but also her tax bracket. She kept thinking about the pole fitness studio, about the way those women had walked in without hesitation. She contemplated the terrifying yet intriguing prospect of trying something that frightened her.