Chapter 42 #2
“Taking notes for my brother-in-law, Daniel. Camilla’s husband.
He used to be a cop, but now he’s a detective.
I don’t know if this”—he waved his phone—“is enough to warrant an investigation, but we can try.” His dark brown eyes were dead serious, but he gave me a soft smile.
“Because you’re family now, Chen. Like it or not, we show up for family. ”
Tears sprung to my eyes, and I pulled them both into a hug before I knew it. The sorrow in my chest still ached, but hearing an outward proclamation of someone claiming me as family soothed it more than I thought possible.
The morning sunlight through Anthony’s window continues to burn my sleepless eyes as I watch Amantha scoop things into my duffel bag. I wonder if cleaning becomes second nature once you become a mom.
“You don’t need to do that,” I say. “I can move my own stuff to the futon.” But a flood of exhaustion sends me rolling over and shoving my head under a pillow.
“Kate freaking Chen. Get up this instant.”
“You know your mom voice doesn’t work on me, right?” I mumble.
I receive a slap to the behind.
“Get your butt out of bed!”
I pop from beneath the pillow with a laugh. “Fine, Mrs. Spankerson, sheesh.” Gosh, I love my best friend.
“Good. And also, Julia is coming over.”
I sit up. “Julia?”
“Don’t worry, she told me to tell you that she’s Switzerland. She adores you as a friend and is committed to keeping your relationship separate from hers and Brandon’s.”
I blow out a long sigh. “Okay. But why is she coming?”
“Dunno. She says she has something for you. She’ll be here in about an hour and a half.”
An hour later, Anthony’s room is put back together and waiting for him, my stuff litters the office futon, and I stand blow drying my hair in Amantha’s bathroom while flicking through social media.
My phone vibrates with a text.
TANNER: Hey, I hope it’s okay that I’m texting you. Your mom said you might have had a change of heart, and that I should reach out? I’d love to talk things over, if you’re willing.
Bitterness floods my tongue.
I’m irritated at my mom, sure, but what stings is that I feel trapped in the past. Like the time Brandon and I spent together in Marisol Bay didn’t even happen. This time-warping text threatens to erase every touch, every joke, every kiss…
I slam the phone down. Tears work their way to my eyes, and I soon clutch the vanity counter because of my sobs.
Amantha finds me, wordlessly bracing me with a hug beneath a sheen of her own emotion.
She holds me for a long while, then gently takes the blowdryer off the counter.
Directing it down my long strands with a brush, she finishes the task I couldn’t.
The blast of heat and rhythmic strokes help to ground me. I’m somewhat composed in a pair of wide-legged linen pants and a cropped shirt by the time Julia rings the doorbell.
At the sight of me, Julia’s naturally large eyes grow into worried blue lakes.
“Oh crap,” she says, flapping her hands like she’s swatting flies. “I’m sorry to have pushed this visit on you, Kate. I shouldn’t have come. Please, forget I was ever here.”
I crack a smile at her antics. “Stop, Julia.”
She stalls after a few steps away.
“My life imploding is not your fault. Get in here,” I say.
“Okay.” She takes a deep breath like Amantha’s living room is a pool she must cannonball into. “I’m coming in.”
We aim for the living room, but Amantha redirects us to her dining room table, announcing that this pow-wow now requires the rest of the ice cream Val brought home last night.
We’ve barely sat down with bowls of ice cream when the front door opens again. Val enters with a gym bag and an impressive amount of sweat slicking his muscle tank.
I hear Amantha’s spoon clatter to the tabletop, and I snort a laugh.
Val says hello to the three of us, toes off his sneakers before placing them neatly into the shoe closet, and swipes a protein shake from the fridge.
“I was never here,” he says, kissing the top of Amantha’s head. “I’m just gonna shower off and watch the Vikings game in the office.”
Amantha exclaims, “But we moved Kate’s stuff to the office.”
Val redirects. “K, I’ll watch it in our room after I shower.” He catches Amantha practically drooling and hitches an eyebrow. “Unless you’re also in sudden need of a shower, Adams?”
I yank my best friend back down into her chair and yell, “Gross! Get out of here, Russo!”
Julia’s cheeks are hot pink, and I think Amantha mutters something about not wanting cold soup as she pokes at her ice cream.
I peer at Amantha, whose antics seem kinda off today, but I can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s because Ryan will be dropping off Anthony this afternoon, and she always gets weird when Val and her ex are in the same place.
Julia distracts me by retrieving a laptop out of her leather cross-body bag. Her eyes rove the ceiling for a second like she’s prepping for a speech.
“Kate, I have a few things I need to say. The first is”—her rosy lips lift—“thank you.”
I stare at her, and she takes my hand with a timid smile. “If it weren’t for you pitching me to the museum, I would have never been able to test my marketing skills on a bigger scale. I’ve had the time of my life these last few months.”
A soft blanket wraps around my aching heart, and it feels less raw.
“Thank you for saying that,” I say.
Julia pulls her shoulders back. “I wanted to give you something in return. Something that you might be able to use in the future to market your photography, if that’s ever something you choose to do. Or to have just as a keepsake.” She opens her laptop to a video, and Amantha and I scoot closer.
And on the screen, it’s… me.
There I am on Hammond Boulevard, cold wind chapping my pink cheeks, my camera poised and ready at the mural across the street. Julia must have been filming from over my shoulder, because I don’t remember her taking this shot.
There I am again, on that sunny day outside Patterson’s Market.
I remember the thump in my chest as I lined up the hand-heart mural within my viewfinder.
A surprised laugh puffs out of me as I watch myself twerking after capturing the shot to the chorus of taxi honks.
I watch myself stick my tongue out at Julia. The montage continues with shots of me.
It’s like I’m watching a stranger, so silly, so full of life that she almost puts the vibrancy of the murals to shame. They dull in comparison to this bright-eyed woman who lives in color and dances to the rhythm of the city.
Gregory Dickerson’s fierce lion fills the screen, as does a close-up shot of the wonder in my eyes as I lower my camera.
Then comes the Starved Rock mural, the viral pizza mural, and so many others.
Each video clip showcases yet another facet of my skill set, another taste of my personality.
Julia’s edits are timed perfectly, and the video has a trendy, upbeat feel.
I don’t realize the tears leaking from my eyes until Amantha hands me a tissue. I swing to her, and am surprised her face is already mottled from crying.
Julia’s own eyes look shiny, and a proud smile quirks her lips.
“You like it?”
I shake my head, overcome with too many words and not enough breath. Julia looks alarmed, so I immediately redirect my head into a rapid nod. Giving up on explaining, I rush around the table to pull her into a hug that she returns. She smells like cinnamon and honey, a warm cup of tea for my soul.
This was exactly the reminder I needed.
That joy exists. That I exist, and that I matter.
And that regardless of who chooses to love me, I am still worthy of it.
“Thank you, Julia,” I whisper.
She squeezes me again before we sit back down.
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do.
” Julia smiles at me with so much kindness in her dark blue eyes, I begin crying again.
“I’m grateful to have met you, Kate. You’ve shown me by example that it’s okay to be bold.
To be fierce. To go after the things I want in life.
In fact, I finally got brave enough to tell my boyfriend, Dallas, that I want to get engaged.
You guys…” She leans closer, happiness misting her eyes.
“I think he went ring shopping a few days ago.”
Amantha congratulates her while I press a hand to my heart, still trying to process so many compliments at once. But the pleasurable warmth in my chest is a welcome distraction, one that I pray will finally stick around.
It’s late afternoon when Julia gets ready to leave.
Our bellies are full from ice cream, and my cheeks hurt from smiling.
I didn’t expect to have formed such a deep relationship with Brandon’s childhood friend, but I’m so grateful I have.
We walk Julia to Amantha’s front door, but Amantha stalls before opening it.
“Okay,” Amantha flaps her hands. “I can’t take it anymore. Julia, I know we’ve only just met and this is so last minute, but would you be one of my bridesmaids? I don’t have sisters or a ton of friends, and—”
Julia’s screech of acceptance makes me laugh so hard I snort.
“Welcome to the tribe, Julia,” I chuckle.
“Thanks.” Julia pulls open the door but pauses on the handle.
She chews her lip for a good while before she speaks.
“And Kate, I know this is likely going against my whole Switzerland thing, but I think you deserve to know. Regardless of whether you and Brandon patch things up, I’m grateful he reconnected with you. ”
I freeze as Julia goes on. “I think it healed a part of him. He’s… I don’t know, more sure of himself. Not the cocky stuff he usually puts on, but deeper than that. And although Brandon didn’t tell me exactly what he heard your parents saying in that study, he—”
“What?” I cut in, staring at her.
A blush stains her cheeks, her lips flapping as she tries to backtrack.
“Brandon heard that?” I whisper. “How?”
After a minute, Julia caves. “He went inside the main house for cold water, I think? Then he heard yelling and wasn’t sure if you needed rescuing, so he waited outside the door…”
I pale, but my voice takes on an urgent tone. “Screw Switzerland, Julia. You have to tell me everything he heard!”
Julia’s shoulders slump. “Something about him not being worth messing up your family over? That you’d be stupid to stay with him, or something? Once he heard that, I think something cracked in him, and he left.”
Panicked breathing fills my lungs. I shove my fingernails into my thighs until I feel their bite through my pants.
He heard, but he didn’t hear.
How much I care about him. How much I was willing to fight for him. That I said goodbye to my inheritance, to my family, all to be with him. I chose him.
A strangled noise whimpers out of my throat.
Julia’s blue eyes are a midnight ocean of sorrow. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you.”
I wave a hand through my tears. Amantha takes Julia’s shoulder, giving it a kind squeeze.
“Let’s give her a sec,” Amantha says.
But Julia bites her lip as she looks back at me. “Since Switzerland is officially busted, I guess I should tell you this too. When you see Brandon next, be gentle, okay? His mom just got dumped, and he’s kinda spiraling.”
Worry stalls my tears in their tracks. “Is he okay?” It’s a stupid question, but I ask it anyway.
Julia shrugs with a sad smile. “No, but he’s hangin’ in there. So is she, I think. For now.”
They say goodbye while I stare blankly. My thoughts are soup, and Julia’s revelations are the whisk stirring them into oblivion.
I decide to retreat to the office, yank the blackout curtains shut, and lie there for what feels like hours.
I think I hear Anthony come home after Ryan drops him off.
I think I smell dinner being prepared, see a tray set in the sliver of light beneath the door with a soft knock.
I hear Val and Amantha’s TV in their bedroom turn on as they watch Whisper Harbor late into the night.
But no matter how hard I try to sleep, I cannot quiet the screaming in my thoughts. Liza might hate me. Could even be siding with my parents as I lie here. Does Brandon hate me? Is he okay? Is his mom still sober? My skin crawls.
There’s only one solution for a moment like this.
I order a car service, slip into my gym shoes, and steal across the house to the front door.
I need to hit something.