Chapter Twenty-Six
The Phone Call
Wilder
Go have an adventure with the girl we love, man. You’d be a fool not to take it.
Cash’s words are on repeat in my head as Ingrid lays her head back against my chest on the sandy beach.
The sun is setting, and Cash is off with Britta. They’re shopping or something. I don’t know. I haven’t been able to think about much else since he said those words to me yesterday.
…the girl we love…
I exhale. Hard.
Cash lost the right to feel anything for Ingrid when he left. How he came back. How he let Fanny treat her.
It used to bother me when Ingrid and Cash were together.
But I also knew there was nothing I could do about it. Ingrid acted like I was the plague. And that was easier.
It was easier to think she hated me.
“You keep huffing,” she says in my arms.
I kiss the top of her head. She smells like sunscreen and saltwater.
“I have a lot on my mind,” I say.
Her hands slide along my thighs. She pushes herself up and twists to face me.
“Like Elowyn? Or Margot?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Maybe thinking about Cash and Ingrid is easier than thinking about my half-sister and her sick mom.
A dying mom?
I don’t even know.
I should know.
“Cash thinks we should go to New York,” I blurt out, trying to distract Ingrid.
Ingrid smiles. “No. We’re not talking about New York. Or Cash. We’re talking about Elowyn.”
The most irritating part of being in a relationship with the right person is that you can’t ever pull a fast one on them.
“What do you want me to say, Blondie?”
“Say you’ll call her.”
In a perfect world, I could do that.
In a perfect world, there was enough room in my dad’s life for both of his children. But he destroyed a marriage and abandoned a son in favor of his affair partner and their daughter.
He could have done things differently.
He could have made room and space for me.
He could have lessened the blow a little.
“We’re half-siblings,” I tell Ingrid. “But that doesn’t make us brother and sister.”
“It could,” she argues weakly. “I hate to think that you could have another person in your life who loves you. You deserve that, Wilder.”
She and Cash sure love to tell me what they think I deserve.
“I love you,” I say to her. “You’re all I need, Ingrid. I don’t need anyone else.”
“But what if—”
“What if what?” I challenge with a raised eyebrow.
“What if I call up Elowyn, ask her how things are, she tells me how horrible Margot is doing, and then what? I show up at the funeral like I’m part of the family?
I don’t know these people. They’re… they’re strangers. They’ve always been strangers.”
She sighs. “You might regret it one day.”
“I doubt that,” I return.
“I’m not saying you have to go to the funeral. I’m just saying it never hurts to be there for someone who needs you.”
“What about all the times I needed my dad and he wasn’t there.”
Ingrid’s warm fingers find my jaw. “This has nothing to do with your dad or Margot. It’s about Elowyn. Even if you’re pissed at your dad, Elowyn was always an innocent bystander. You don’t want people to judge you by the choices your father made. So, why are you doing it to her?”
The words hit like a slap to the face.
I’ve spent years trying to ignore the whispers around town. The pitiful looks. The hushed words wondering if I’ll be just like him. If I’ll keep a child a secret. If I’ll leave the family I built in public for the one I built in private.
I’m doing the same thing to Elowyn.
I exhale. “Fine. I’ll call her.”
“Now?” Ingrid returns instantly.
“Now.”
She hops up from the towel and motions to the water. “I’ll be close by if you need me.”
My heart pounds as I watch her walk toward the restless ocean.
I fish my phone out of my pocket and click on Elowyn’s latest message.
She’s on hospice. They give her two weeks max.
I’ve never been great at comforting people when things are hard. My dad taught me how to deal with it. Just ignore the problem and move on. Let everyone else clean up the mess.
But is that who I really want to be?
Someone who runs every time things get hard?
I take a deep breath and hit the call button.
I’m not sure what to expect. Part of me hopes she doesn’t answer.
The other part? I just want to get this over with.
“H-hullo?” I hear.
“Elowyn,” I say.
“Wilder?” She sounds surprised. Shocked, even.
“Uh… how are you?” I ask, then instantly feel like a jackass. She’s not doing well. Her mom is dying.
“I’m okay,” she answers. And for a second, it almost sounds like she’s relieved someone asked her that.
“I’ve been off grid with Ingrid and Cash,” I quickly try explaining my lack of responses. “We’ve spent the last few days road tripping out to California.”
“Ah,” she says, her tone casual. “Spending your summer off grid. Sounds nice.”
“Listen,” I mumble as I clear my throat. “I only read a few of your messages. I know things are pretty serious with your mom right now. If you need to talk about it…” I trail off, my throat uncomfortably tight. “I’m here.”
She exhales, and it sounds like the weight of the world is being lifted off her shoulders.
“They caught it too late,” she begins. “We had no idea. Looking back now, there were signs, but they were also easily explained away. Fatigue. Weight loss. The occasional bruise that lasted a little too long. We never thought—” She cuts off quickly, and I hear a small sob.
I’m not great at this, but as I look up and see Ingrid standing on the edge of the water, watching the sky turn fiery red as the sun slips lower on the horizon, I take a deep breath.
I can do this.
I can be the person Elowyn needs right now. Even if it’s just ten minutes.
“Do you remember that little dog your mom had a few years ago?” I say.
Elowyn doesn’t say anything, but I keep going.
“She called it Cupcake and I couldn’t stand it.
But,” I quickly add, “she loved your mom.” I only saw the dog a few times.
Those rare visits where we all tried to be a family but failed miserably.
“She did,” Elowyn whispers.
“Sometimes, I wonder if I had kept coming around, maybe Cupcake would have warmed up to me.”
Elowyn inhales sharply. She knows I’m not just talking about Margot. I’m talking about her. About life. About all of it.
“Dad’s not doing well,” she mutters. “He just keeps finding excuses not to be home.”
Yeah, sounds like him.
He and hard things don’t mesh well.
“I…” Elowyn trails off.
“He’s not really the person you look to for comfort,” I try.
“I can see now why you stayed away,” she says. “When things are going well, he’s great. But when they’re not, he’s gone. He’s not here. I have to do it all on my own.”
Another child he’s abandoning when they need him most.
Seriously, Father of the Fucking Year.
“I’ll be home soon,” I tell her. “I can stop by and help.”
“Oh, Wilder,” she cries. “No. That’s too much. I just… I needed to get it off my chest. And—” she sniffles—”I needed to tell you that I’m sorry. I have been pushing you to come around for years and I can see now why that was hard for you.”
The words make my head hurt.
I hate that I’ve known the world is decidedly unfair and Elowyn is just figuring it out now.
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask her.
My sister inhales sharply. “I know this is a big ask, but would you mind coming to the funeral?”
A lump forms in my throat.
“I don’t think Dad will be there,” she quickly adds. “You’re the only family I have, really. I… if you could just stop by for thirty minutes, it would mean so much to me.”
I want to say no. That’s the coward’s route. The one that makes me feel least uncomfortable.
But what if I was in Elowyn’s shoes? What if I really needed her?
“I’ll be there,” I tell her.
She breathes a sigh of relief through the phone. “Thank you.” She pauses before adding, “I don’t know how to do this, Wilder. I don’t know how to say goodbye to both of my parents at the same time.”
My heart throbs. “You’re not saying goodbye to Dad.”
“I am. He’s not the same person he was before her diagnosis. He won’t be the same person once she’s gone.”
I still have my mom.
And that makes me feel both relief and guilt.
“I wish I had the answers you need,” I say. “But all I can tell you is to take it one day at a time. And if you can’t do that, then… I don’t know. Take it one hour at a time.”
She half-laughs, half-sobs. “That’s really good advice. Thank you.”
It’s funny how we change when we’re loved right.
A year ago, I would have run and hid from Elowyn in a shopping mall.
Now, I’m giving her advice like an older brother is supposed to.
My gaze lands on Ingrid ahead of me. She’s walking along the water.
“You’re going to be okay,” I tell my sister.
And for once, I actually believe it.
“I’d like to meet up for lunch when you get back from your road trip.”
“I’ll text you,” I say.
She laughs. “You better. Or I’ll tell Cash. He said he’d kick your ass if you didn’t show up.”
Cash?
“You’re talking to him?” I ask her.
She clears her throat. “He just checks in every day to make sure I’m doing okay.” There’s a beat of silence before she adds, “Just as a friend.”
Friend.
That’s all he better be.
“Tell Margot I say hello,” I say.
“Um…” Elowyn hums. “If you’re up to it, my mom would really like a chance to say goodbye to you.”
I swallow hard. “Can I think about it?”
“There’s no pressure, Wilder. It’s up to you.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“She’s waking up,” Elowyn whispers. “I have to go.”
Before I can say goodbye, the line clicks.
I shove my phone into my pocket and head straight for Ingrid. She’s picking up a shell when I reach her.
“How’d it go?” she asks me.
I hitch a shoulder. “We have to go to the funeral.”
Ingrid frowns. “It’s that bad?”
“They think she has two weeks,” I tell her.
Ingrid’s eyes glass over. “I feel so horrible for Elowyn.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Did she say how your dad was doing?”
“He’s, uh, not around.”
Ingrid narrows her eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means that he can’t handle the cancer and he’s officially checked out,” I try explaining.
“No wonder Elowyn kept reaching out.” Ingrid sighs.
I guess that makes sense now.
“She wants to get lunch when we get back,” I say.
“That’s a good idea.”
“And,” I continue, grimacing, “she’s been talking to Cash.”
Ingrid whips her head back. “Why?”
“Who the fuck knows,” I grumble.
She reaches for me, pulling me close. “She needs people right now. Especially with your dad suddenly going MIA. Don’t make it a thing.”
Oh, I’ll make it a thing if I have to.
But I keep that thought to myself.
Instead of answering, I kiss her on the beach as the sun settles on the water. She tastes like honey and cinnamon and salvation.
I keep kissing her, memorizing the feel of her lips, the taste of her tongue, the way the heat rolls off her and warms some part of me I didn’t know needed it.
But then, she breaks the kiss and I groan.
“Why, Blondie? Why?”
She laughs softly. “Should we talk about Cash seeing us… having sex?”
I frown. “Do you want to?”
“No,” she rushes to get out. “I just… did you talk to him about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say gently as I run my fingers through her hair.
“What about NYU?” she tries. “Can we finally talk about that?”
“Cash thinks I should take out a student loan.”
Ingrid’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“I’m considering it, but I don’t you to get your hopes up,” I warn.
“I want you to do something for you,” she says. “This could be a really great opportunity.”
“And you’d go with me?”
She licks her lips. “I already looked into online classes,” she confesses. “I think it’s doable. But I’d need to find a job right away.”
“I’m sure they have waxing parlors in New York,” I tease her.
“I’ll miss Pierre.”
“And Jill,” I add.
She nods. “It would be worth it for me. To see you chase a dream, it would be worth it.”
I run my thumb over the promise ring on her finger as she traces the letters of my Blondie tattoo.
“If it doesn’t work out, there might not be a room waiting for you when you get back,” I say.
Ingrid exhales. “I know. But maybe I’m ready to let the room go.”
“Yeah?”
“Isla won’t be returning to school,” she says. “This baby is all she has now.”
“You wouldn’t want to stay and help take care of the baby?”
She places a hand over her chest. “It’s not my job. I love my family, but I want an adventure that’s just ours.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay,” she repeats.
“I’ll call the admissions office when we get back home,” I tell her.
Ingrid gives me a breathtaking smile. “We’re really going to do this?”
I nod. “Really.”
She hugs me tight, and I wrap my arms around her, wondering if this—freedom, certainty, excitement—is what it feels like to chase dreams instead of run from fear.