Chapter 43 #2
She gives me an Am I wrong? look. “How many friends do you have, Brie? Real friends, not acquaintances, people you know, or women you saw regularly at yoga while you were in Indy. True friends.”
My eyes shoot up to the ceiling to count my innumerable friendships, but she interrupts me.
“It’s a rhetorical question, Sis. The answer is zero.”
“You don’t know that.” It comes out petulant and childish.
“What are Dev’s hobbies?” It’s barely a question.
“Um—”
“How many men has Mara slept with?” Gia interrupts.
“Hey!” Mara says, and Gia gives her a Look that has her slumping sheepishly in her seat. “I guess maybe I could be more open, too.”
“Where am I taking Lizzie for spring break?” Gia asks.
My shoulders rise to my ears, both annoyed and embarrassed at the truth of it all. So I’m an introvert, what’s the big deal? We’re all entitled to our own solitude if we want it. It’s not like Gia’s any better.
“I’m not done,” Gia says. “These are all things you haven’t asked others. But it’s a two-way street. Whenever someone asks you a personal question, your instinct is to deflect at best, run away at worst.”
I want to argue, but it would be a lot easier if I hadn’t literally run away tonight.
“You don’t open up to anyone, you don’t let anyone in.
We’ve all just learned to not ask questions of you.
But Mara has me, she has Tucker, she has Layla,” Gia says, referring to Mara’s boyfriend and her friend-slash-boss.
“And I have my own people I can rely on. People I trust who I’m open with. Can you say the same?”
This, by far, is the most interesting revelation, and I get a twinge of jealousy. Who is Gia close to? If anything, I assumed she was more of a loner than I am.
Before I can ask, Gia plods on. “This instinct to keep to yourself is a bad habit you must break if you ever want a relationship. I don’t just mean with a partner, but with anyone, including Mara and me. Lizzie. Dev. Tess. Or,” she adds slowly, “anyone in the new city you move to.”
“Are you really leaving?” Mara asks.
I’ve already been offered jobs at three schools, and I have more video interviews scheduled.
“It’s the plan,” I say helplessly.
“Why?” Gia asks. “So you can keep running from the people who love you? So you can have an excuse to never open up?”
I wince.
“If it’ll make you happy, we won’t stop you,” Mara murmurs. “But we just got you back.”
“Blue Ridge isn’t my home,” I tell her. “It never really was.”
“That’s a choice, Brie,” Gia insists. “If you want to make a home here, you fucking do it. Whatever you say, I think you never really left this place. It follows you wherever you go, and you pulling away from everyone shows that.” She sighs, face softening.
“A lot of people here love you. If you do go, then own it. Don’t leave because you’re running away. ”
I think about all the questions I’ve skirted from Tess. About Sawyer’s confession, raw and honest, about his past that I didn’t match.
About how I considered sneaking in through the back to avoid my sisters and this exact conversation.
I’ve been running away since I got here. Since long before that.
Gia drains the last of her wine. “You belong wherever the hell you want.” Her tone is fierce, uncompromising.
The truth is, I never felt like I belong anywhere. Growing up in this town wasn’t easy. My deepest desire back then was to go unnoticed. By Sawyer, by this town. So I learned to close myself off from everyone.
Mara shifts, and I look at her. She clears her throat, pushes her wine glass away, then pulls it toward her. Then gazes up at the ceiling.
Before I can say anything, Gia uses her Big Sister Voice. “Mara.”
She bites her lip. “Just to, uhm, add to all that . . .”
“Yeah?” I prod.
“I kind of forgot about this, it happened right around when Tucker and I got together. Actually, Tucker and I got together kind of because of it, and—”
“What?” I interrupt, impatient.
She inhales. “I ran into Sawyer before you came back into town. Like, a week before.”
I make a move it along gesture.
“He was in a rare mood, chatty almost. He asked about you, said he thinks about you a lot, that his therapist basically has tomes about you. And he even jokingly, but not jokingly, asked me to pass an apology to you. But then he told me not to bother you, then he asked me about helping out with the school computers.”
That explains why Sawyer and Mara were acting strange my first day at the school.
“This was before I came back into town?” I ask, voice breaking.
Mara nods. “Gia’s right, Brie. A lot of people here love you, and I think that includes Sawyer.
Based on what you told us, I think he always loved you.
And I know Blue Ridge was a hard place for you to grow up in, harder than either of us had it” —she gestures between herself and Gia— “but if you want to belong here, there’s room for you.
We’ll make room for you. Especially Sawyer. ”
Something in my brain clicks into place. Christopher tried to hide me, and I never thought twice about it, preferring the anonymity.
But Sawyer is nothing like Christopher. It never crossed Sawyer’s mind to hide me. Partly because he simply can’t hide in this town—it’s a given that he’ll garner attention wherever he goes—but mostly because he’s only had honorable intentions since I got here. He’s a genuine, good man.
Tenderness spreads through me, followed swiftly by shame at how I behaved tonight.
Don’t all my problems with Sawyer boil down to the publicity of being with him? The itch to slither into the shadows every time we’re out together?
That’s not what went wrong tonight.
I think back to a couple hours ago. To earlier this afternoon, and Bob Ross. To Sawyer’s comment about Christmas. The itchiness I feel every time I think to the future.
At once, it dawns on me: I don’t want to leave. Something that’s been coiled tight in the deepest parts of me begins to unknot.
I’ve taken it for granted that I have to leave. But the discomfort of living in this town is eclipsed by the overwhelming desire to stay with the people I love.
When did that happen?
Cold fear penetrates my bloodstream. What if I can’t stay? The hiring process isn’t up to Sawyer, it’s done differently here.
It would break not just my heart, but maybe Sawyer’s if I’m forced to leave after confessing I want to stay. I’ve already caused him too much grief as it is.
I’ve got to make sure I know what I want before I talk to him. He deserves that much.
“Now,” Gia says, pushing herself off the counter. “I belong in bed.”
Mara and I watch as she puts her empty wine glass in the sink, recycles the wine bottle, and wipes down the counter with practiced efficiency. Then, she walks around the island to where Mara and I sit.
We swivel on our stools to face her.
Her arms come around the two of us. Simultaneously, we stand, wrapping one another in a tight hug.
“I love the two of you so much,” she says into my hair. “And I’m so profoundly proud of you both. You deserve happiness.”
Mara sniffles. “I love you both, too.” Her voice is a restrained wail. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“I love you too,” I ugly-cry into their shoulders.