Chapter 28
“If you don’t find that fucking clipboard, I swear to god.”
Welp. Zola’s feeling better.
They’re keeping her at the hospital overnight as a precaution, but I think that’s mostly because when they said the words bed rest, Zola literally laughed.
The doctor has since made her promise that for the next few weeks, she won’t be on her feet for more than thirty minutes a day.
She was somewhat placated by the doctor’s suggestion that Zo get a little bell to ring when she needs our help. Mom and I were less amused.
“I mean it,” Zola continues, barking orders like she’s in a three-piece suit, not an open-back hospital gown and grippy socks. “I need to sign at least three clients from that party just to break even. I’m sitting in the red right now and I’m almost out of time.”
“I already texted Ro,” I remind her. “I’m sure he has it.”
Even connected to a bag of fluids, Zola doesn’t miss an opportunity. “You texted Ro?” she asks, eyebrows raised and mouth downturned with suspicion. “Not Liv?”
I smile because it’s further proof she’s feeling better.
“I like him for you,” Mom says, emerging from the attached bathroom at exactly the wrong moment.
“You saw us together for like two seconds,” I say, ignoring the pang I feel at the thought of him.
“I like him too,” Zola says, as if I haven’t spoken a word. “He seems like a really good guy.”
“A really good guy,” I repeat, testing the words in my mouth. “I think I read about those once.”
Mom steals a cafeteria french fry from Zola’s discarded tray at her bedside. “You don’t think he’s a good guy?”
“I mean, sure,” I say, collapsing onto the most uncomfortable little couch in the world. If Zola asks me to stay the night, we’re drawing straws for the bed. “So far. They all seem good at first. But it’s death, taxes, and guys going Hyde. Or Jekyll. Whichever the bad one was.”
Neither Mom or Zola says a word, so I continue with a shrug. “The things in life you can count on.”
Now Zola’s the one who looks unamused. “Is this seriously how your brain works or are you just trying to get a reaction out of us?”
“If I wanted a reaction, I’d tell you guys I had sex with Ro two weeks ago.”
“WHAT?” they both shout in unison.
“See?”
“Talk about burying the lead,” Zola says, smiling. “Though professionally speaking, I can’t condone it. As your sister, though…”
Zola pops her shoulders in approval.
Mom holds her hands out to reclaim the floor. “Okay, we will be revisiting that, but let’s try to stay focused for a minute. Kai, you can’t really be ready to write off every guy because there’s a possibility they’ll let you down at some point in the future.”
She joins me on the couch and I laugh when she looks down at the lumpy cushion like it’s stabbed her.
She ignores me. “Relationships aren’t that simple. Life’s never that simple. It’s messy and awful and it gets really ugly sometimes—”
Zola’s face twists into a knot. “What side of this are you arguing?”
“And,” Mom says, to hush me and Zola. “It’s impossible to protect yourself from it. Honey, you’re gonna make yourself miserable trying.”
“Seriously,” Zola deadpans. “Mom. What are you doing?”
“There’s no point in lying to you girls. You’re gonna get hurt.”
“Shocker,” I say out the side of my mouth.
Mom rolls her eyes. “But if your only focus is how or when something will end, or all the things that might go wrong, you’re gonna miss out on the good stuff.
And there’s so much good stuff.” She enunciates the word so I can’t miss it.
“Even when things end in that bone-deep hurt that makes you so sick to your stomach, you can’t stand up straight—”
I don’t have to ask what comes to mind for her when she says it. It was only ever really my dad.
“Even that’s temporary. There will always come a time when you stand back up and walk again.
And when you do, what you take with you is everything else.
All the things you learned. Stupid inside jokes that still make you smile.
The long nights with sick babies, where neither of you wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
” Her voice cracks on the word. “Him holding you girls in that goddamn recliner.”
I rest my hand on Mom’s. She turns hers over in mine. And squeezes.
“That’s not the consolation prize,” she whispers. “That’s all of it. That’s life.”
The room is a mess of unshed tears, and when Mom clears her throat, I’m prepared for her next life lesson to send them spilling over.
“So…” she begins. “You fucked Ro?”
Zola and I turn to each other and scream. The tension in the room splintering to give way to laughter, as Zo and I shout, “LANGUAGE!”
And it’s that same laughter that brings a new wash of tears, because my little family is as whole right now as it’s ever been.
—
I survive the Ro interrogation that follows, and once she’s convinced she’s bled me dry of intel, Mom leaves to make a call.
“So, what are you gonna do?” Zo asks. Her eyelids are heavy after our eventful day.
“Who knows,” I say, standing to adjust the pillow she’s struggling to reposition. “Maybe nothing. Don’t even worry about Ro right now. You need to rest.”
“It’s my job to worry about it,” she says, a lazy smile at her lips. “We signed a contract, remember?”
I’d been hoping that somewhere between the bonfire and the baby, Zola would’ve been the one to forget, but I don’t tell her that. “You want me to stay while you sleep?”
“No,” she says, through a yawn. “Mom said she would.”
I’m collecting my things to leave, when I see the awaiting messages from Ro. Zola will want to know if he’s found the clipboard, but I think better of checking now. XO by Zo can wait a day.
And there’s one thing I can’t wait to ask any longer. I nod toward the open door leading to the hallway. “Who do you think Mom’s out there calling?”
Zola shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine. My services are for paying customers only.”
“You say that now,” I sing.
“I mean it. This kid’s coming any day now. I won’t have time for anyone else’s drama unless they’re cutting me a check.”
I’m about to argue the likelihood of that, but Zo cuts me off.
“If Mom can learn how to date without making it our problem, I’m happy to let her.”
Even if I don’t believe either of them are capable of that kind of change, I appreciate the sentiment—and for tonight, that’ll have to be good enough. Even with Mom’s sweater over my beach getup, I haven’t stopped shivering since we got here. I need clothes and Zo needs sleep.
I lean down to hug my sister, but Zola’s tired eyes are still working on something. She’s still got something on her mind.
“Listen,” she starts. “I think we can all agree I got dumped pretty fucking hard. But if what happened to me is the big, bad thing you’re so afraid of, I just want you to know, I’m okay.
And even if I’d like to think I could’ve learned these same lessons a little more gently, in some ways, I’m better for what happened to me.
” She rubs her belly as she finishes. “You can only really walk things back so far anyway. I’d never wish my relationship with Jason away.
It got me to this moment with this little boy. ”
I hate myself for even caring enough to ask this next question, but I do. “You think Dad would say the same thing? About not wishing us all away.”
Zola smiles in a way that reminds me so much of how Mom used to look at me. Like if she couldn’t stop my hurt, at least she’d hold my hand through it.
“What I think,” Zola says, finally, “is that trying to forget us is the only way Dad could stand being gone. He loved us, Kaia. I remember. Love doesn’t just go away.”
I place a hand on her belly and try to force a smile too. Then I feel my nephew moving below my palm, and my smile comes a little easier.
8:59pm
Me: She was just dehydrated. They put her on bedrest for a few weeks but other than that she’s ok.
Ro: Bedrest? Zola?
Me: Ha, Mom and I are gonna have to take shifts holding her down.
Me: Thanks again for your help.
Ro: All I did was grab a clipboard. Liv handled everything else.
I near the hospital exit, watching Ro’s typing bubbles appear and disappear. As much as I want him to clear the air about what happened between us on the beach tonight, I also kind of don’t. I’m too tired for a reckoning.
“Kaia?”
At the sound of my name, I turn to see a face I’d expected to leave buried in the pages of my old yearbooks. #28. The boy I’d once branded my cheek for. Asher freaking Hall.
His laugh sounds the same as I remember. It takes me back to a time when life was so much less complicated.
“Oh my god,” I say, smiling genuinely, despite the night’s events. “What are you doing here?”
He pulls me into a hug, and it feels good to let somebody else hold me up for a minute.
“I work here,” he says, into my hair. “What are you doing here? Everything good with Zola?”
I pull back. “How’d you know I was here for Zola?”
“We ran into each other here a couple months back.” Asher looks like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t as he says, “Actually, she was supposed to be setting me up. With you.”
“Oh” is all I say.
But I’m not disappointed exactly. Which may have something to do with how adorably uncomfortable he looks right now. Or it might be that he’s Asher freaking Hall, standing in front of me all these years later, with a stethoscope at his neck, asking about a date.
“My schedule’s been impossible this month,” Ash continues. “I thought Zola was gonna come escort me outta the OR when I had to cancel a couple weeks back.”
We both laugh, because, well, Zola.
“I can’t believe you were the date.”
“Were? Does that mean I shouldn’t ask if you’re free now?” He checks his phone. “I could sneak out for coffee or dinner, or—I don’t know. You got any errands to run?”
I get lost in his golden eyes for a beat too long, and I’m back in the student section on those hard metal bleachers.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say, finally.
He doesn’t try to hide his smile. “I was just thinking the same thing about you. You look—”
“A mess,” I say, suddenly remembering my current state of mid-beach-bonfire-emergency dress.
“Really good,” Asher corrects.
And the way he says it, I almost believe him.
“So,” he continues, “you wanna catch up over dinner?”
Even though I’m half dressed and bone-tired, when Asher asks, I say yes. Because, while I may not be up for a reckoning, a girl’s gotta eat.
—
I sent Zo a text about the universe’s assist when I stopped to do a quick change at the house. I’m halfway back to Asher when she finally responds.
Zola: Damnit! I wanted to do the reveal.
Zola: He looks exactly the same right?
I’ve only got a few seconds left at this red light to hammer out my response. I waste one or two biting the inside of my cheek at the thought of Asher’s bright eyes and warm brown skin, before typing:
Me: Same old Ash.
The pause before Zola’s next text is longer than I would’ve expected for someone getting everything they want.
Zola: You sure you wanna do this?
Me: WHAT?! Isn’t this what you’ve been plotting all along? saving Ash for last. Your big finish.
Zola: That was before you told us about Ro.
Earlier, rushed by the night’s relentlessness, I’d skipped right past Ro’s missed texts. But with Zola’s reminder I open them now, and my heart sinks at his words on my screen.
Ro: You want this stuff tonight?
Ro: I can swing by before I go see my parents. Drop everything off.
Ro: Have you guys eaten?
Ro: ??
Shit.