41. Sloan #2
The phone buzzed in Sloan’s hand, and she blinked the tears away and accepted the video. Penny’s face greeted her. “You doing okay?”
“Hanging in there.” Sloan made her way down a center aisle Dad had left in the space. Boxes were all to the right, furniture was all to the left. All the furniture that had meant something. “I just . . . I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m glad it makes you happy. It’s all yours.”
Sloan’s jaw dropped. “You don’t want anything?”
Penny shrugged. “Not really. What am I going to do with that stuff?”
“Mom’s china? Her jewelry?”
“I don’t wear jewelry. And I’m definitely never going to use china—what, when the king of England comes to visit?” Penny said with a laugh. “Have at it, darling. I wouldn’t wish sifting through all that crap on anyone.”
“It’s not crap,” Sloan said, tearing up again.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” Penny gave a wan smile.
“I know they’re treasures to you. Hell, some of it is probably even worth some good money.
I just don’t want to have to deal with it.
And I want you to have it. I think you need it a lot more than I do anyway, and I have no use for any of it. ”
At least she was being honest.
Sloan swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Penny.” Her eyes landed on a box labeled “jewelry,” and she pulled it down, setting the phone on another box. “But are you really sure?”
“One hundred percent. I even told Dad to make sure he’s leaving it all to you. So, really, you can do whatever you want with it with my blessing.”
Sloan pulled the lid off the box. Mom’s old jewelry box—a leather one that had reminded Sloan of a treasure chest when she was a kid—stared back at her.
“Mom’s jewelry,” she said, her heart giving a sharp pang. She opened it, then lifted a delicate silver chain with a single, large pearl. “I’m shocked you don’t want anything.”
She held the necklace up for Penny to see.
“I know. I’m heartless.” Penny shrugged. “I just . . . What am I going to do with it? I honestly can’t remember the last time I wore any jewelry. Even at your rehearsal dinner. Nada. I think your wedding planner said something snarky about it.”
That put Sloan instantly on Penny’s side. “Well, screw her. That’s a personal decision.”
“Exactly.” Penny gave a sly grin.
Sloan slipped the necklace on, clasping the pearl tightly. The last time someone had worn this . . . it had been Mom.
And that made Sloan feel like she was still here in a way.
“It looks beautiful on you,” Penny said, a wobble to her own voice.
Sloan packed the box back up, then set it under her arm. “I think it’s going to take some time for me to go through everything. But thank you for being here with me the first time.”
“You can always call me, Sloan. Always.”
That was enough for Sloan to get teary-eyed all over again.
“I should get back home before Kyle wonders where I’ve gone,” she said, walking back to the door. She flipped off the light, then locked the unit again.
“Oh yeah? How are things going with Mr. Winnick?”
“Good,” Sloan said. She put the box in the passenger seat and smiled. “Really, really good. He loves me. And I love him.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. Anyone who saw you guys together when you were young knew it was the real thing. Made me jealous, if I’m telling the truth.”
Sloan started her car. “I should get off before I start driving. Thanks, Penny. I’m glad I called you.”
“I'm glad you called me too.”
They hung up, and Sloan stared at the black screen. They weren’t like the Winnicks. There were no big shows of affection. No effusive declarations of familial bonds.
But she was glad to have her sister back in her life.
The house wasn’t too far from the storage facility, it turned out, but once again, the house was dark.
She shook her head. Does Kyle bother turning on the lights when I’m not here?
Sloan went inside, carrying the box with her mom’s jewelry with her. The dogs didn’t greet her either, though. Instead, she found Kyle on the back lawn, new firepit lit, dogs lying at his feet, beer in his hand.
“Hey,” she said, heading toward him slowly. She dragged an Adirondack chair toward the firepit, then sat beside him.
“Hey yourself,” he said, voice low. “Did you have a nice time at work?”
She nodded, then leaned back in her chair, staring up at the stars. This was the sort of life she’d visualized when she’d stayed at the Murdock’s ranch. Sure, they had a lot of money, so the house and the setting were more luxurious, but that wasn’t what she’d found herself longing for.
She wanted quiet evenings at home, a couple of dogs at her feet. Maybe a family someday. Someone to hold her hand and grow old with. The burn of sore muscles after a hard day’s work. Good food or drinks shared with friends. And laughter. So much laughter.
All the luxury in the world couldn’t give her that.
She knew that from firsthand experience.
She studied his profile. He looked serious, but didn’t speak, his thumb tapping the neck of the bottle.
“I went to the storage facility where Dad put all my mom’s stuff.”
He ducked his chin, surprise on his features. “By yourself?”
“Yeah. But I called Penny, and we did a video call.”
“And you’re . . . okay?”
She shot him a look. “You know how you didn’t want to be treated like someone frail?”
“I know, but this is different.”
“It’s not.” She frowned, sitting forward in her chair as she turned to face him.
“Listen. I know we haven’t really talked much about the whole race-in-Jackson thing, but we probably should.
Because I love you and I want to be there for you as you start something important to you, even if I don’t understand it. ”
“But . . . ?” He searched her gaze.
“But what?”
“You’re not mad?” He gave her a skeptical look.
“No, I am mad.” She spread her hands out and shrugged. “But I think you knew that. There are consequences for not telling your girlfriend important things and blindsiding her at a family dinner. But, you know, that’s not really what bothers me the most.”
He took a slow pull from his beer. “And what would that be?”
Sloan looked away. “It bothers me that you let me believe we were building something safe and stable, and all the while, you were making plans to quietly gamble with your life.”
He flinched. “I’m not in danger of dying, Sloan—”
“You don’t know that. Just like I’m sure you didn’t think you might die when you hopped on that Jet Ski in January. But you do know you’re taking a risk—one that affects us both if something goes wrong, and you planned to do it anyway. Without even asking me what I thought.”
He exhaled, then swallowed another mouthful of beer.
“We weren’t together when I started making plans.
We’d . . . only just started something when the offer came through—the same morning you left for San Francisco.
And the timeline was tight and you were gone and I had to make a decision without you. ”
He’s justifying his actions. Something about that was rubbing Sloan the wrong way. She could also see his point of view, but they were dancing around the real point. Trust. The future.
“Kyle, like I said, I’ll support you.” She reached across and took his free hand in hers, gently. “Just . . . if there’s something you need to tell me, just tell me, no matter how badly you think I’ll take it. I want to be there for you. I want you to tell me what you need.”
He set the bottle down and looked at her evenly. His jaw tightened, like he was holding something back. Then he said, “I need you there, Sloan.”
She nodded, his words crushing her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She wanted him to say he wouldn’t do it so badly. To change his mind. To tell her that he’d thought it over and realized risking himself wasn’t worth it—not if it hurt her.
A still, strong voice spoke from the back of her mind. Let him go. Let him go and he’ll find his way back to the sun. Find the route back to us.
Then she thought of Delilah’s words. “Maybe loving him means accepting him for who he is and stepping out in faith too. Maybe you’re meant to be by his side. With him.”
With him.
Even if he didn’t blame her, even if they’d made a tenuous peace with their past, Sloan knew that if anything happened to him, she’d blame herself. Because his options were limited because of me.
And just like that . . . she knew what she needed to do.
Why she needed to go to that storage facility tonight.
She knew Mom was looking out for her.
. . . and maybe Granny, too.
“Can I ask you one question?” she said at last.
“What’s that?”
“Are you doing this because you feel backed into a corner, without any other options, or are you doing it for you?”
His lips lifted in a smile, as though her words made him feel better about something. “For me, Sloan. I’m doing it for me.”
But instead of saying any of what she was thinking, she just squeezed his hand, her chest squeezing like she was bracing for impact. “Then I’ll be there.”