Finn takes out a baggie of celery sticks and pops one into his mouth. “So, Nevada, huh?”
My brows pinch together in thought.
“Your license plate gave you away.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, Reno.” I spoon another bite of yogurt into my mouth. My stomach growls, asking for a little more sustenance.
“Biggest little city in the world.” He almost grins—but doesn’t. His mouth simply turns up, but he stops it before it can be called an actual smile.
I shrug one shoulder. “Yep.”
“Okay, well, see you tomorrow, two o’clock.”
“Does this mean you aren’t pissed anymore that I’m hired?” I say before my brain can stop my mouth.
This time he does grin, closed lipped, and cynical. “Nope.” He steps out of the car and shuts the door, but rests his hand on the jam of the opened window. “I am glad you didn’t get crushed today, Esther.” He taps the door with his palm and waves goodbye.
5
“This one was taken at Disneyland, the only vacation your dad and I went on together.” Rodrick hands me the picture. Dad’s maybe a year or two older than me, but there’s no doubt its him. Even in this photo his blue eyes stand out to me. He looks so happy with his smile stretching across his face.
“Where are you?” I scan the line of kids, but I can’t find Rodrick’s face.
Rodrick points to his mom, my grandma Anna. She’s still alive, but I don’t know her. She sends me a check on my birthday with a nice letter, but she never called Lisa’s house, and I never thought to give her my cell number.
I look closer and see that Anna is holding an infant in her arms. “Ohh,” I hum, my face softening, and a sympathetic titter leaves my mouth. “You guys really didn’t spend much time together.”
He laughs a little too. “We didn’t.” But then his features turn down and his tone is sorrowful. “By the time I had any memories he was married. I don’t remember him without Sara. I was young and they—” He pauses, not wanting to say what we both know. They weren’t accepted by his family. It wasn’t a secret that Dad’s family didn’t care for Mom. They said she and dad were too different and it would never work. Anna was still trying to talk Dad out of the marriage when he announced that they’d already done it. They were married, and because of her complaints, she hadn’t been invited. She never quite forgave him.
I can’t really blame my parents. They loved each other dearly. The ceremony goes—until death do you part—and my parents couldn’t even allow death to part them.
“Well, we didn’t see them much,” he finishes.
Two-year-old Harmony runs into the room, chased by her six-year-old brother Angelo. They’re both loud, squealing and jabbering. Harmony finds safety in the arms of her dad.
“Hey, you,” Rodrick says, embracing the little girl. Angelo reroutes, racing out of the room. “Angelo, are you teasing your sister again?” But the boy is already gone.
“It’s kind of an older brother’s job.” JoJo teased me to tears on a regular basis—at least I think he did. The memories are sparse.
I don’t realize how close Rodrick and I have gotten on this couch, reminiscing over old pictures, until Harmony reaches out and puts her pudgy little hand on my bare knee. I don’t have a lot of experience with kids. But I tap her dimpled hand and peer down at her. “Hi.”
“Harmony, did you know that Esther is your cousin?”
“Yeah,” she says, and her voice is louder than I expect it. She looks at her hand on my knee, studying the contrast there.
“You’re so pretty,” I say, still drumming my finger over the back of her hand. Her blonde hair hangs in waves down her back, and her eyes are that Ray family blue—like Dad and Rodrick’s.
Summer comes into the family room, a dishrag in her hand, and a smile on her face. “Bedtime, Harmony.”
I clear my throat. I got back from work just before nine and Rodrick and I have been going through pictures ever since. I’m sure I’ve thrown off their routine. Summer seems like the kind of mom who would cherish her routines.
Harmony shifts her gaze to her mom and then back to me. She leans her head down and kisses my knee. “You’re pretty.”
I bite my lip through a grin and watch as she trots towards her mother.
“Rod are you—”
“Yeah, I’m coming, honey.” He pats my knee where Harmony kissed me. “We’ll talk later?”
“Ah, I think I’m going to bed, too.” I know he’s trying to connect and that’s fine, even nice, but it’s draining.
“Goodnight, then.”
“Say goodnight to Esther,” Summer tells Harmony, just as a cry sounds from upstairs—baby Brayden.
Summer hands off Harmony to Rodrick and she blows me a kiss as they leave the room.
Summer and Rodrick didn’t say anything about the explosion—I don’t think they felt it over here. So, I never mention it. No need to worry them. Besides, no matter how unlikeable Finn might be, I want to keep my job.
I ready myself for bed, but video chat Cytha before laying down. I relive the day and tell her everything that happened. She listens silently and when I’m done, her mouth is agape, and for once in her life, she is speechless.
“Cyth, say something.”
She blinks. “I—I—I don’t know what to say. Are you kidding me?”
I set the phone so it sits on the desk and leans against the wall. I tie my thick hair back into a ponytail. I’m tired and I run a hand over my face. “I wish I were.”
“Es, that’s crazy.”
“Believe me, I know.
“What did your uncle say?”
I scoff. “I didn’t tell him.”
She chews on her short fingernails. “So, what do you think will happen tonight?”
I hadn’t thought about that. Tonight… Maybe I will relive The Reading Mother’s attack for the rest of my life. “I don’t know.”
“Call me, first thing in the morning.”
I nod and we say our goodbyes. I miss her. Has it really only been a day? I can’t remember not seeing Cytha every day of my life since moving in with Lisa and Smitty. Even on Christmas, we’d meet out in the front yard and show each other what Santa had brought. When we fought, we’d pass each other outside at one point or another. She’s my other half, the Thelma to my Louise, and she’s seven hundred miles away.
I lay in bed, but my eyes aren’t ready to shut. It’s really not that late—just after ten. I scroll through Instagram on my phone and somehow find myself searching the name Finn… only I don’t know his last name. It’s a fruitless search that brings up a hundred guys, old and young, but none of them him.
I find the meditation app that Cytha recommended and set a timer for sixty minutes of ocean waves before settling down in my bed.
I wake up at eight in the morning to Brayden crying and Angelo shouting. I slept through the night for the first time in weeks. It was a dreamless night. I snuggle down in my blankets and squeal into my pillow.
Yes! It’s over. I didn’t realize what a burden the dream had been—until it’s gone. But it feels like such a relief to not have to live that moment over and over.