AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If you don’t factor in endless fog and rain,” Mara contradicted, shaking her head. “LA puts us within two hours of Emerald Bay with Alice and the twins.”
“Valid point,” El said, weighing her words and reactions carefully, refusing to give too much away.
“You could plant yourself between the two and have an hour in either direction.”
“An hour commute to work every morning?” Chris challenged. “That’s fourteen hours a week in the beginning. That’s a part-time job.”
“Okay, so she stays in the city, and drives the two hours to Alice. It was just an idea.”
“An idea that needed to be vetoed for the sustainability of her mental health.” Chris’ protest made me chuckle, mostly because he sounded like Max with his need to look out for her. He wasn’t wrong. But I couldn’t help but wonder how this would play out for us. Was she going to live there year around? If she was following a traditional school schedule, it was at least nine or ten months of it. And those were the same months I’d be bound to Mistyvale. Suddenly, the idea of her pursuing this school made me anxious. But god, she needed it. Needed to build that dream. For her and her future students. A sinking sensation in my gut matched the dread pinching my brows as I attempted to force my eyes back to the book in my lap. The words seemed to blur into some other dimension, because all my brain could understand was that I couldn’t derail all of that. The rational option was staring me in the face; I would be the one to uproot my life and follow her. But that meant leaving my family. My parents and surviving grandparents. Jameson and Noel as they started their family. As he was the closest thing I had to a brother left on the island, that one hurt the most.
El was happy to wander from place to place never growing roots as she rode wherever the wind took her, where I was like a coastal redwood, every ounce of my being settled in the mountains of Mistyvale Island.
But, for El… I could start over. So what, if I’d dedicated six years to Mistyvale University? I could start that run for tenure over. Even though my chest felt heavier just thinking about throwing that away.
My phone lit up with an incoming call, and I sat up, a bit relieved when I saw my dad’s name on the screen. As quietly as possible, I slunk from the room before answering.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Brod!” No matter how long or short our absence, the thing I loved most about my father was that he possessed the enthusiasm of a Labrador Retriever at a Fourth of July barbecue when he answered the phone. As far from the stereotypical, solemn lawyer as you could get outside the courtroom. “How’s my son?”
So much to unpack there. Opting for the simplified version, I said, “I’m great. How’s the trip?”
“Your mother says I’ve caught a tan,” he supplied with a chuckle I couldn’t help but echo. Of the two of them, dad’s South African bloodline made the concept laughable next to Mom’s light skin. And the joke was one she never seemed to tire of.
“So, the island hopping is going well, then?”
“I’ve gained ten pounds,” he said with significance.
“Congratulations, you can be black Santa again this year.”
“Always my greatest honor,” he said, tone entirely jovial. Mistyvale had come a long way as far as diversity went in the last few decades, but logically speaking, Filipino Santa would have made a lot more sense. Regardless, Dad had played the role for five years running, and loved every moment. Every hug. Every affirmation spoken over kids that might just need to hear they were good and shown that they were loveable. “How is everything back home?”
I weighed the question and decided it wasn’t a lie to skirt my current whereabouts. “Home? Home is good.”
“Mmm,” he said, tone astutely suspicious. Good luck lying to a lawyer. “And my son? How is my son?”
“Your son is good.”
“Should I ask where is my son? Would that be more accurate?”
Dammit. “Uh, I’m in Chicago at the moment. Fly out tomorrow morning.”
“Now, with all due respect, you lead the conversation with something like that. Why the hell are you in Chicago?”
“I got to watch Paxton throw a game-winning Hail Mary pass yesterday.”
“Ahh, the Wolves won again. Pax is about to get himself another Super Bowl ring, isn’t he?”
“Pending the playoffs, it’s entirely possible.”
“Good. Very good news for a talented kid. But you didn’t answer my question.”
I palmed my face, dragging it down across my mouth as I groaned, and he laughed at the sound.
“You used the same deflection techniques as a teenager. I asked why you’re in Chicago, not what you’ve been doing.” I glanced back at the room door, thinking that those were details he certainly didn’t need. “Is there a new woman in the picture?”
“Now, why do you sound so hopeful?” I pushed back when his voice was just a tad too cheery for my liking.
