Chapter 4 #3
When she answered her phone, Chloe’s voice had been trembling and Aspen remembered how her heart immediately sank when she thought something had happened to their father.
She had braced for the words she was certain were coming.
Dad’s gone. He was in an accident. There was nothing they could do.
She remembered, very acutely, wondering in that moment: was this how Maddy felt?
Instead, Chloe had said she was pregnant.
Aspen’s initial reaction was relief; followed quickly by shock and panic.
Chloe had gotten knocked up by some rich guy she’d met in Cabo six weeks earlier who wanted nothing to do with her or the baby.
Aspen had tried to convince Chloe that having a baby would be a mistake and to let her take her to Planned Parenthood because the thought of Chloe turning into their mom made Aspen sick to her stomach.
Now, as Aspen looked down at the amazing eight-year-old sitting beside her on the bench, she thanked whatever higher powers existed that Chloe hadn’t taken her up on the offer.
Instead, Chloe had assured her she wasn’t scared of turning into their mother—that she would never do that to her child—that she was just scared of doing it alone. So Aspen had called the residency program and rescinded her acceptance.
The following week, she walked into Offshore Wellness and practically begged Lena van der Berg to hire her as the in-house PT.
It was a holistic wellness center for the Coronado community with massage therapy, yoga, acupuncture, chiropractic, and hypnotherapy.
Aspen pleaded her case that physical therapy was a natural addition to their services and that the treatment rooms and indoor yoga space were already well-suited to most physical therapy needs.
After Lena had asked her to come back for a formal interview, had called her references, and had confirmed that all of her credentials were in order, she decided to hire her.
Seven and a half months later, Maisie came into the world. The moment the nurse placed her in Aspen’s arms, she knew she would never leave her. That she would do absolutely anything in the world for that seven-pound-four-ounce little girl.
And she wouldn’t trade the past eight years for anything.
She loved every second of being there to witness Maisie’s early milestones—first step, first word, first birthday, first friend, first day of school.
She loved watching Maisie grow and develop into her own unique person with her own very strong personality.
She loved picking Maisie up from school or the salon and spending time with her like this.
Right now. With red syrup staining the corners of her mouth, and her tongue, and her white shorts, and her fingers, and—somehow—her forehead?
As if on cue, Maisie swiped a strand of windblown hair from her face with her red sticky fingers—ah, that’s how.
Maisie was still going on about the octopi. “—and the giant Pacific octopus is the biggest one. It can weigh up to six hundred pounds and can fit through a hole the size of an orange…”
Aspen’s phone buzzed against her hip. She pulled it from her pocket, and her thumb went still against the glass.
Maddy Sterling: Where’s the storage unit located?
No greeting. Just a question.
She hadn’t acknowledged Aspen’s original text or the wink emoji, but it was a question she easily could have asked Bunny, and she’d texted Aspen instead.
Aspen typed before she could think about it.
Aspen: The U-Stor-It just across the bridge on Sampson.
She chewed the inside of her cheek. Her fingers flew across the screen again.
Aspen: It’s a bit of a mess in there though. If you’re willing to wait a few days I can go with you on Sunday. I know where everything is.
She watched the screen. Maisie was still talking beside her, and Aspen was listening with one ear and watching three gray dots appear, disappear, reappear.
Maddy Sterling: Fine.
Fine. Maddy’s signature one-word response. Aspen stared at it for a moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard again. She could push. She could send something flirty and teasing—the kind of text that would force Maddy to look at Aspen’s name one more time and drive her wild.
The pull was there in her fingertips, the same intoxicating feeling that had hummed through her at fourteen when she’d first watched Maddy at the debate podium.
She closed her eyes. Chloe’s warning rang through her mind. No. She pulled her thumb away from the keys.
Not this time, Maddy Sterling.
She locked the phone and slid it back into her pocket. She would help Maddy with the Cup, as promised, and leave it at that.
Maisie leaned into her side, still completely absorbed in recounting every detail she learned about octopi last night, and Aspen wrapped an arm around her niece’s small shoulders.
This. This was what she had. This was real.
This island, this girl, this life she’d built with the people she loved.
No one was going to mess with that. Not even Maddy Sterling.