Chapter 29
Jonas
“You’re planning to fix that with YouTube and willpower?” Hayes asks me as the two of us hang out by the broken hot tub while the pizza party’s winding down.
And by winding down , I mean everyone else has left except for me, Hayes, Begonia, and Zen.
Bash has remained largely unimpressed with me tonight, choosing Zen and Begonia over everyone else. That’s why they’re still here. He insists that they help give him a bath and put him to bed.
Or possibly he’d do that anyway.
Even if he hadn’t seen me make Emma cry.
Yep. Still feel like an absolute asshole for that.
I don’t know if he remembers. I don’t know how long toddler memories are. I’ll have to look that up.
But I’ll remember.
I hold a flashlight to study the side of the tub where it looks like chickens pecked through the wall and into an electrical cord of some kind. “If I can’t fix it, I’ll replace it.”
“Have you ever fixed a thing in your life?”
“I’ve played a mechanic four times .”
He doesn’t reply.
Likely because we both know what he’d say if he did. I’ve seen the reviews on those movies, and a high number pointed out you can’t change those kinds of cars’ oil from the top of the engine .
In my defense, two of those roles were as mechanic in training . When I was playing teenagers. And before I figured out how much I loved researching the quirks of the roles I took.
“Ready to learn new things,” I mutter.
“Like how to take Mom’s phone calls for yourself?”
“I’ve texted her.”
“She’s getting concerned. And Begonia’s getting closer to her due date.”
I know what he’s saying.
I have to face my mother sooner or later. Lay out for her what I will and won’t tolerate with the whole family being let in on the news about Bash.
And Emma.
Before my sister-in-law goes into labor if I want her and Hayes around for support when Mom finally figures out where I am and arrives.
Our mother doesn’t worry about me the same way she worried about Hayes.
But she’s worried about me more since my divorce.
You take a woman whose first priority is her sons’ happiness followed closely by a priority to keep the family’s public reputation just as perfect and happy as our amusement park and movies, and she’s an unstoppable force when she thinks something’s wrong.
“Thank you for sending Emma blackmail material after Bash disappeared at the café,” I tell my brother.
He grunts the equivalent of a you’re welcome .
Speaking of things we both know—we both know Emma wouldn’t have freaked out at Bash disappearing in a café she goes to all the time if there wasn’t the element of me in her life now.
A few weeks ago, she was anonymous and happy and somewhere she felt safe.
Bash disappearing into the kitchen of Sabrina’s café was probably normal then.
Between watching how many people are in Emma’s close circle who adore him, and the stories Grey and Theo told about how close-knit the community is as a whole, it wouldn’t surprise me if Bash can slip into any kitchen in any restaurant in town, ask for a cookie, get it, and slip back to Emma’s side before she has reason to be concerned.
Now, though, normal things are grounds for anxiety for Emma.
Because of me.
“I’m quitting acting,” I tell my brother.
He doesn’t respond, which could mean duh, of course you are , or it could mean are you sure about that?
“It’s the right thing to do,” I add.
Again, no reply.
The back door opens. Begonia’s belly comes first, followed by the rest of her, and then Emma.
And I have a desperate, unquenchable desire to know what Emma looked like when she was carrying Bash.
How it felt when he kicked inside her.
If he ever got the hiccups and made her entire belly shake.
I want to have been the one fixing her a spinach and cottage cheese omelet in the middle of the night.
Or whatever her cravings were.
Will I miss acting?
I will. It’s always come easy and I like it.
But there’s a hole in my life that I can’t fill with roles playing someone else, no matter how big the roles might be. I missed Bash’s birth. Holding him when he was a baby. Sending Emma back to bed while I changed a diaper or gave him a bottle in the middle of the night. His first birthday.
I don’t know what his first word was. What his first solid food was. When he started walking. If he’s ever needed stitches. How often he gets his hair cut.
How she did it all on her own.
I’ll miss acting.
But I can’t miss any more of this .
Of life .
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think Bash has as much energy as all of our camp kids combined,” Begonia says. “He wins. Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”
“I’d prefer to simply take you home,” Hayes says, rising from the lawn chair beside me.
“That’ll work too.” Begonia hugs Emma. “Thank you for the pizza party. It’s like you knew what I was craving.”
“Thank you for coming. Bash had a great time.”
“That’s the Marshmallow effect.”
Hayes grunts.
Begonia giggles.
The dog in question sticks his nose out of the back door, a chicken in his mouth.
“ Marshmallow ,” Begonia chides. “Drop the chicken.”
Hayes adds a throat-clear as he stares at the dog.
Yolko Ono squawks once, and Marshmallow sets her gingerly back on her one leg, then licks her.
Yolko Ono flaps her wings at him, just once, then hops under him and settles to the ground beneath the dog’s chest.
Like he’s her shelter from the rain that isn’t falling.
All of us stare at the two of them for a second before Begonia giggles again. “That—that was not funny,” she says between snickers.
Hayes smiles and loops his arm around her neck, pressing a kiss to her head. And then he snaps his fingers. “Marshmallow. Car. Now. Before you squash the chicken.”
I have never been so jealous of my brother in my entire life.
Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been jealous of him. Everything that’s come easy to me has come hard to him, and I know it.
He deserves to be happy and in love and saying volumes with grunts that his wife replies to with laughter and orders to her dog that the pup answers with whines and reluctant obedience.
I want that .
Not because I’ve ever felt like my life is lacking.
But because I want to laugh and have private jokes with Emma and learn how to give her chicken commands that it’ll listen to.
“Need a ride?” Hayes asks me.
“Nah, I’m gonna figure out what else I need here. Thanks.”
Hayes gives Emma a shoulder-hug, which is almost as startling as if he’d picked her up and swung her around in an impromptu square dance. “Thank you for dinner.”
Emma smiles at him. “My pleasure. Thank you for coming.”
And then my brother and his wife and their dog depart, leaving me alone with Emma and Yolko Ono.
She settles into the folding chair close to me, pulling the chicken into her lap and petting it like it’s a purse dog. “Jack said to tell you to call him if you want help with the hot tub.”
“Will he help, or will he pretend to help?”
She smiles. “He’ll help. He’s actually incapable of doing a project wrong, even to make a point. If Decker or Lucky or Zen had offered to help, though, I’d advise against taking them up on it.”
Not much else I can do tonight. Not without the replacement parts.
And a fence to keep the chickens out of the hot tub area.
So instead, I open up the other chair and take a seat next to Emma.
“How was camping?” she asks me.
“Everything I expected it to be and more.”
“Oh, god, what did Theo do?”
I smile. Can’t help it. “Nothing I didn’t respect.”
“That is not the right answer.”
“I’m not bloodied and bruised, so this is an improvement.” Don’t, ah, ask me about my intestinal tract though.
Camp food, man. It is not what I’ve been served the few times I’ve visited Razzle Dazzle’s camps. And the pain didn’t stop with the fire in my mouth, if you know what I mean.
Emma eyes me but doesn’t press for more details.
The truth here is the one thing I won’t share with her.
That’s a step too far.
I’d honestly hope Hayes wouldn’t share details with Begonia either if the same ever happened to him.
“It was fun too,” I tell her. “Would probably be more fun the next time.”
She pulls her knees up to her chest in the chair, cradling the chicken in one arm beside her knees while the bird makes a noise that sounds strangely similar to a purr. “You’d go again?”
“Sure.”
“ Sure, if I had nothing else going on , or sure, I hope they invite me again? ”
“I hope they invite me again, and if they don’t, I’d plan something and invite them instead. Especially since I know about Theo’s sneezes now. Won’t be nearly so scary at four a.m. next time.”
“His sneeze literally starred in my wedding video. It opens my wedding video.”
“It’s different in real life.”
She shakes her head. “That I can agree with.”
We both smile.
“You’re serious about staying,” she says slowly.
“Completely serious.”
“You won’t miss acting? Traveling? Being in the public spotlight?”
“I would miss being here more.”
She rests her chin on one knee and stares at the chicken coop.
And it’s so peaceful .
Soft clucks. The sun sinking lower, but not yet casting the deep shadows of dusk.
Yolko Ono purring like a cat. Swear on my lone Oscar, she’s purring.
Bash’s voice drifts down, singing a song I don’t recognize, but Emma could probably name.
I like my life.
I’ve never felt like anything was missing.
But when I’m here, I feel like I’ve found where I’m supposed to be.
Who I’m supposed to be.
Who matters.
“Was he an easy baby?” I ask in the stillness.
“What makes an easy baby?”
Huh. “I…don’t actually know.”
She smiles out at the chickens again. She gathered eggs and fed them while the rest of us were picking up the pizzas and cleaning dishes, so I don’t think she’s worried about them.
I think she’s contemplating how much she wants to share with me.
How much I’ve earned.
How much she believes I’m worth the time to let me a little further in.
“He was the very best baby,” she finally says softly.
“He wasn’t fussy?”