Chapter 17 Sweet Sixteen
SWEET SIXTEEN
“Urgh,” Andy groans, part in pleasure and part in frustration as the foot bath bubbles. “Who knew I was going to miss Micha like this?”
“I could have told you.”
Andy rolls her eyes. “You could not.”
“Yes, I could. Why don’t the two of you just start dating, already?”
Andy is quiet and suddenly very interested in the bubbling water. Finally, in a small voice she says, “He hasn’t asked.”
I have to stop my jaw from dropping into my lap. Andy is not the girl I ever thought would wait on a boy for anything. She’s a go-get-it, girl. The girl who lets no one stand in the path of something she wants.
“Why don’t you ask him?”
Her eyes meet mine, and for the first time since I met her, I think they’re truly vulnerable. “I don’t know.”
“Micha likes you, Andy.” Her nose scrunches, but she doesn’t speak. “You’re so confident all the time, maybe that’s why he hasn’t asked. Maybe he thinks you’re not interested.”
“Or maybe he’s Micha, and it’s all just fun and games to him.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But you’ll never know until you ask him. Or at the very least tell him how you feel about him.”
“Sometimes, I hate that I love you.”
I snort. “Uh huh. Get used to it because I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s not true. Everyone knows you’ll leave Rubble Ridge with Holt.”
“You wouldn’t follow Micha?”
“Even if I do get with Micha, he doesn’t have the same drive as Holt. He won’t make it pro.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Micha knows that. He’s said it plenty of times.”
“Yeah, but he plans on going to school in Vancouver, too. I know he hopes to keep playing hockey.”
Andy shrugs. “If we do get serious and he wants to go, I’d follow him.”
“Yeah?” Something in my chest feels lighter knowing I’m not the only one crazy enough to follow a boy.
“Why not? College would be fun.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Do you want to go to college?”
“I guess.”
“For what?”
Andy groans as she drops her head back to the chair. “Is it bad that I have no freaking idea?”
Another wave of relief slides through me. “Not at all.”
Andy starves a half-laugh with a snort. “You don’t know what you’re going for either, do you?”
I shake my head. “Mom is taking me to an expo on Thursday. Want to come?”
“Uh, totally.”
“Great. I’ll tell her.”
We leave the salon with pretty painted toes. Mine are a peach pink and Andy’s are the color of a stormy sunset.
She throws her arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close to plant a wet kiss on my cheek. “Happy birthday, boo.”
The front door closes behind me and I release a heavy sigh as I lean my back against it. It’s been a helluva long day, first fishing with Mom and Dad, and then pedicures and a movie with Andy. Since I only just turned sixteen and don’t yet have my license or a car, her mom drove me home.
Now, I’m feeling a chill night in bed with a book.
Look at me, sweet sixteen going on sixty. I’m pathetic.
“Hey, hon.” Mom appears from around the corner with a dish rag between her hands. “How was the movie?”
“Good.” I push off the door, kicking off my sandals. “Do I smell burgers?”
“There’s my little foodie, all grown up.” Dad swings an arm over my shoulder to pull me in close to his side. “The Wilder’s invited us over for a fire tonight. Your mom offered to make her famous jalapeno and cheese burgers.”
I’m confused. “But Holt’s not home.”
“He’ll be missed, honey. But we’re still going to keep with tradition.
” Mom wiggles a bottle of wine. “And me and Elise have been looking forward to this all day.” At my frown, she sets the bottle down on the counter.
“Unless you really don’t want to go. In that case, I can give her a call and tell her you’re not feeling up to it tonight. ”
I’m being silly. “No. I’m just tired. It’s fine, though.”
Mom is studying me a little too closely now. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Okay.” She frowns. “If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.” I start for the stairs but stop when Mom speaks.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Tate dropped off a birthday present for you. He said it’s from Holt.” Mom gives me a cheeky little wink, sensing the perk in my mood. “I put it on your bed.”
My heart flutters, because he remembered me even though he’s not here. With a quick, “Thanks.” I race up the stairs to my room.
The box is little and wrapped in peach colored paper.
My heart flips and I can’t contain my nervous little giggle as I hurry to the box.
Behind the cage of my ribs, my heart flutters.
I tear into the wrap and flip the lid of the box to find a raw rose quartz bound in a simple, thin gold band.
I slide it from the cushion that holds it and slide it onto my right ring finger. It’s a perfect fit and so pretty.
With a happy little sob, I pull my phone from the pocket of my shorts. It’s still shiny, and new and, of course, pink. I slide the phone up to expose the keyboard and type out a message to Holt.
Me
I love it.
It’s a promise, Faye.
A promise of…?
That you’ll always be mine.
I flop back on the bed feeling full of emotion. So full I could burst.
My phone chimes with another text.
Happy sweet sixteen, baby.
I love my boyfriend.
Miss you. So much.
Miss you, too.
A tap on my door sounds before it opens and Mom leans against the frame. She wears a small smile that looks thoughtful and maybe a little sad. The super boost of happiness my gift and little chat with Holt gave me dwindles as I sit up.
Mom enters. When she closes the door behind her, I know whatever she wants to talk about is serious. The bed dips under Mom’s weight. I pull my heels up to the edge and wrap my arms around my knees. Mom lets a big sigh loose.
“So.” Even though she just let out a sigh, she manages to blow another breath between puffed cheeks. “Sweet sixteen, eh?”
I bob my head. “Yeah.”
“I’m not going to lie, honey, I thought you’d want to make it a big thing.” I lift a shoulder and Mom forges on. “I thought there’d be a big party, pink everywhere, and at the very least a cake.”
“I never said I didn’t want a cake.”
“Well.” Mom rolls her lips. “It’s a good thing your father didn’t listen to me, then, isn’t it.”
I love my parents. “Does he ever really listen?”
“No. No, he doesn’t,” Mom teases. “Suppose I was a little lax in his training.”
I giggle, but it’s shallow. Mom smiles.
Mom says, “Honey, I know you miss Holt, but is something else bothering you?”
She always knows. “How do you always know?”
“You’re my baby. You’re a part of me. All I have to do is look at you and I feel it. Your happiness, your sadness. That mixed up feeling in the middle.” She scoots closer, her side now brushing mine. “Do you feel like sharing?”
“I just—” It’s my turn to blow a breath between puffed cheeks. “I feel overwhelmed.”
“With what, honey?”
“All of it?”
Mom gives a low chuckle. “Welcome to getting older.”
“Getting older kinda sucks.”
Mom giggles. “I think I said the same thing.”
“I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”
Mom’s eyes sway to mine. There’s a sheen of wet in them that tells me this conversation isn’t exactly easy for her. She feels my aging in an entirely different way than I feel it.
I snuggle closer and she wraps a comforting arm around me. “Baby, you don’t need to know what you want to do with your life. You’re sixteen.”
“Yeah, but there’s only two more years left of school. I don’t even know if I want to go to college.”
“Then don’t go.”
“Mom.” Her name flatlines on my tongue. “I’ll end up working in a restaurant my whole life if I don’t go to college.”
She gives me a squeeze. “That’s not true, Faye. Besides, even if it were true, that’s honest work.”
“Honest, yeah—but…”
“But what?”
“But I don’t want to struggle my whole life to pay bills.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Mom kisses the top of my head.
“Life is a struggle and no matter what you do, the bills will be there. I think the thing most people miss is that life is about so much more than the money we make. Of course, money is important, there’s no denying that.
But money is only a fraction of life. Real wealth is measured in time. ”
“Time?”
“Yes. The time we have to spend with those we love, doing what we love. That’s true wealth.
If you’re a world-class surgeon making all the money you could ever want and need, but you spend your entire life in the operating room while your family lives their life entirely separate from you, and you miss all the big and little life moments—does that feel like wealth to you? ”
“No. I think that would be torture.”
“I agree.” Mom sniffles. “We aren’t rolling in money, Faye, but we have a beautiful, comfortable life with all that we need.
I am so blessed to have been able to be home with you.
To watch you grow into this beautiful young woman you’re growing into.
To be there for your falls, and to cheer for your wins.
” She gives me another kiss. “Oh, baby, I know life feels really big right now. But I just want you to follow your heart. If you do that, I promise all the pieces of your life’s puzzle will fall into place exactly where they were always meant to be. ”
“You really think so?”
“I know it. No matter how life might look, we all have a puzzle. The pieces are constantly falling to fill the picture of our life. Sometimes, that picture is going to look messy and hopeless, but in the end, when you’re finally looking at the complete picture of your life—oh, baby, it’s going to be such a beautiful picture. You just wait.”
“Thanks Mom.”
“Always, baby.” She pats my knee. “If you’re not feeling like coming to the Wilder’s tonight, that’s okay, too.”
“Did Dad really get cake?”
Mom smiles. “It’s his baby’s sweet sixteen. Of course, he got cake.”
“Then I’m coming.”