Chapter 30
thirty
EZRA
The unnamed thing waiting in the wings has started to tick like a time bomb, waiting to explode and destroy the tentative peace Jo and I have found.
I can feel it coming, like the air has shifted, and a monster is breathing down my neck.
Except it’s just the seasons slowly changing and a monster of my own making.
I’m standing on the rocky beach after having made my way down the metal stairs I hate.
They seem like they’re solidly built into the side of the cliff, but I will never trust anything that takes that much of a beating from the weather.
The only reason I trusted them today was because I needed a minute to myself.
I can’t get that with Jo in the house, and there’s so many nosy people when I make a trip into town.
They all want to know how Connie is or when this boyfriend of mine is making his appearance.
The teenager at the coffee shop yesterday morning openly accused me of making him up.
I didn’t blame him since we’re going on a month up here and there’s been no sign of Maverick.
We’ve been here long enough for the leaves to change and the breeze coming off the ocean to become bitter.
Even the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks seems harsher.
The world is changing around me while I fight to stay in place.
Stay in my anger and resentment of Jo. It’s not working, and I’m having a lot of trouble coming to terms with that.
It’s how I ended up with my ass planted on cold, wet rocks staring out at an angry ocean.
Jo said she was going to shower and work on her podcast stuff.
It’s not abnormal. She’s always working on something.
I don’t think she could relax if her life depended on it.
But today is her birthday, and she hasn’t once mentioned it.
I’m sure she’s not aware that I know or maybe she assumes I wouldn’t want to celebrate it with her.
Except I do know, and I do want to celebrate with her, and I don’t think there’s anything more confusing than that.
I tried to tell myself to keep playing it off like it was just another day, but my mind won’t let me.
I’ve been thinking of places to take her to celebrate or maybe making dinner here with just the two of us so we don’t draw any more attention than we already do.
The cake I ordered at the cafe yesterday is ready to be picked up, and the gift I bought her is already wrapped and in the closet of my bedroom.
I’m just so fucking confused about my feelings towards the infuriating woman, and since confusion has been translating to anger for me recently, I removed myself.
It’s not Jo’s fault I’m an emotional mess, and I’m not emotionally stunted enough to think it’s okay for me to take it out on her.
But what the fuck am I doing? I don’t buy birthday gifts.
I sure as shit don’t buy cakes for people.
Saying no to the fucking balloon and stuffed animal bouquet yesterday was the only smart thing I did.
And if I’m honest with myself, I only said no because Jo doesn’t really seem like a stuffed animal person.
My phone vibrating in my pocket interrupts my downward spiral.
Pulling it out, I see it’s a FaceTime request from an unknown number.
Frowning, I look around like I’m going to be able to spot whoever it is that’s calling me.
I sigh, hoping it’s just my dad with another burner.
He does that a lot if he isn’t at his house in front of all his screens.
The face that greets me used to be a mirror of my own. “Kai,” I say, hearing the surprise in my own voice. Luckily, the wind is calm right now. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to hear a thing.
“I blackmailed Cal into giving me your number. I hope that’s alright,” he says. He’s nervous, and I hate it because I am too. He’s my twin, the other half of who I am. Things should never be awkward between us.
“Dad told me you didn’t have a phone. I would’ve called you sooner!” I’m panicking. I never panic anymore, but I don’t want him to think I wasn’t contacting him on purpose. “Kai, I swear I didn’t—”
“You’re fine, Ez. Dad doesn’t know. I snuck into a gas station like six hotels ago and bought a burner. If I had known Cal was in contact with you, I would’ve called sooner.”
“What did you blackmail him with?” I ask, smiling now that the panic is slowly receding with the tide.
“Do you remember that Spice Girls phase he went through?” Kai asks with that mischievous sparkle in his eye I’d recognize anywhere.
“Don’t tell me you have pictures of that!” I laugh.
“Better. I have a video of Sparkle Spice in all his glory,” Kai says, snorting just at the memory. I laugh along with him, remembering a preteen Cal dressing in a bright blue jumpsuit that was originally a Freddie Mercury costume his dad wore for Halloween.
“The wig,” I say, laughing too hard to finish the sentence.
I don’t need to though, because Kai knows what I mean.
Jason gave Cal the jumpsuit but had long lost the wig.
Cal being, well, Cal, decided he needed a wig to finish the look, so he used one of Belle’s.
A long red one she used to dress as Ariel from The Little Mermaid.
Between the blue sparkles and the red hair, he just looked like a gender-bent Ariel at the end of the movie.
“We have to show Cora someday. I only agreed not to put it on Instagram.”
“Did Cal tell you what she’s been calling me?” I ask, my mood sobering. Jo has been making me part of her FaceTime chats with Cora and Harlow as much as I’ll let her. Sometimes I love it, but there’s other times when it’s almost too painful.
“No, but I also only talked to him long enough to get your number.”
I nod. “She keeps calling me ‘Not Uncle Kai.’”
Kai snorts. “Of course she does. I love that kid, but she’s going to be a little shit just like her dad.”
That makes me smile because he might have a point. She never says it with anything other than a statement of fact or recently, affection.
“How’s Maverick?” I ask, not looking at the screen. I know he’s okay from what Harlow has told us, and I know my brother wouldn’t be acting as chill as he is right now if something was wrong.
Kai sighs. “He’s hanging in there like the rest of us.” Kai turns at a noise out of my line of sight. “Shit. I have to go. I hear Harrison, and he’ll be pissed if he knows I have a phone and contacted you.”
“Stay safe,” I say.
“You too. Love you,” Kai says, hanging up before I get a chance to respond.
His words were simple. They’re always how we used to end phone calls, but I haven’t had my brother tell me he loves me in over eight years.
The sentiment hits me in the chest, making it hard to breathe as tears sting my eyes.
I look at my phone for the time and shake off the lingering emotions.
I need to get to town and get Jo’s cake.
Maybe swing by the grocer. I think I’ll cook dinner for her tonight.
That way we’re home if Kai can call back and somehow get Maverick with him without Harrison noticing.
That stops me in my tracks. Usually, the idea of having to share even a moment of Maverick’s attention with Jo makes me angry.
I stand at the bottom of the cliff steps, waiting for the anger to surface, but it doesn’t.
Huh. That’s something I’ll have to analyze later.
I have a birthday girl to surprise. I’ll figure out what the hell is wrong with me tomorrow.
I’m frozen in the produce aisle of the grocery store. Making dinner for Jo seemed like a great idea until I remembered that she’s always the one who makes the dinners and the only thing I ever cook is breakfast. The only thing I’ve ever cooked is breakfast.
“Why are you staring at the mangoes like they insulted your mother?”
I spin around to see Darren looking at me with that concerned doctor expression he gets sometimes. He probably thinks I’m having a psychotic break in the grocery store. He wouldn’t be wrong.
“It’s Connie’s birthday, and I was going to make her dinner, but I just remembered I don’t really know how to cook.”
Darren laughs so hard he ends up bent over with other shoppers staring at us. After what feels like far too long, he stands up and wipes the tears from under his eyes. A few stray chuckles slip out as he pulls himself back together.
“Do you know how to grill?” he asks, going into problem-solving mode.
“I’ve made burgers and hot dogs on a grill, but that’s about it.
” I don’t mention that the last time that happened was a decade ago when I went camping with Kai and Cal.
I’m not sure if Jo even eats that stuff.
She probably does, but she’s also a really healthy cook, so I’m not positive.
I’ve eaten more vegetables since I’ve been here with her than I have in the past year.
Darren must be able to read my face because he just smiles and grabs my arm, pulling me along after him.
We end up at the meat counter. “You do have a grill, right?”
“Yes. I don’t know what type. Martha picked it out.”
Darren nods, probably knowing exactly what his wife would’ve picked. He orders some marinated chicken, asparagus, and potatoes, putting them all into the basket I’m holding.
“This is a meat thermometer,” he says, holding up a red rectangle. “The probe folds out, and you stick it in the chicken. It has to be at least one hundred and sixty-five degrees before you serve it to anyone or they’ll be sick.”
“Got it. What do I do about the other things?”
“Make a foil packet and stick it on the top rack of the grill. They’re already seasoned and buttered, so it should be easy for you.”
I let out a breath, and my shoulders relax. “Thanks, Darren.”
“No problem,” he says, slapping my back. He pauses, clearly thinking about what he wants to say next. That does not bode well for me. “You know, it’s okay if you’re not gay. Sexuality is a spectrum, and being attracted to a woman doesn’t mean you can’t also be attracted to men.”
I inhale so fast I choke on my spit. “What?” I squeak. Darren slaps my back so hard I lurch forward and slam directly into the meat counter.
“You’re just going through a lot of trouble here,” Darren says, his voice low but gentle.
“She’s my friend. She’s been through a lot. We both have. I just thought . . .” I shrug, not really liking that I have to justify cooking dinner for someone who lives with me. Damn small towns.
“I thought since your boyfriend—”
“She’s important to him, too,” I say, cutting off the questions I know are coming. Everyone wants to know where he is and why he isn’t with me. If I hadn’t been so confident, so delusional, about thinking Maverick would be the one here with me, I wouldn’t have this problem.
“Hmm,” Darren hums. “Well, good luck tonight. See ya around, Ben.”
I watch him walk away, both grateful and confused by the entire interaction.
I grab some potted blue flowers before paying for everything and leaving. I’m not sure there’s a vase at the house for the cut kind. Not that I should buy Jo flowers, but I’m suddenly second-guessing the gift I got her, and this seems like an adequate backup. Dinner and flowers for her birthday.
Fuck. This sounds like a date.