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“Don’t cry. There’s other ways to get ahold of him.”
“How?” I squeaked out between sobs. “This is hopeless.”
“That is quitter talk,” Caroline said. We sat in silence for minutes, in my childhood bedroom, as we thought. My gaze drifted to the pregnancy test, sitting on my stack of summer reading.
Caroline snapped her fingers. “I got it. I know how we can get ahold of him.”
5
Max
Well, that was interesting.
After I walked back to my car from the brewery, I shake out my hands and try to wrap my brain around what just happened.
I saw her. As expected, she looked stunning and just as beautiful as I remember her. Maybe even more.
Her hair was slightly longer and wavy, falling like scrunched silk on her creamy shoulders. The eyes were what I remembered the most. The color of jade, staring into mine when we saw each other for the first time ten years ago. Sundresses have always been my weakness, and the one she was wearing hugged her figure—her small breasts, her hips. I had to tell myself to look from the neck up. The whole situation was unfair, and a laugh in my face.
What I feared would happen happened. When I saw her, it was like no time had passed. I was twenty-five again, rattled by a girl who took over my world with a Diet Coke and a smile.
I agreed to dinner, considerably later in the day, and now I need to figure out how to get back to San Diego in time for my eight a.m. patients tomorrow, folks who had appointments for weeks. I work as a partner at my dad’s dental practice, with the intention of taking it over when Dad retires later this week.
My dad always instilled in me that our patients come first, above all else. If we have personal appointments, we do it outside of practice hours. I’ve taken exactly one vacation since I started at the practice eight years ago, besides my annual dental missions to Costa Rica. I went on my first one the year I met Emily, after my first year of dental school.
My dad allows it because it looks good for the business to take a break from our well-off clients once in a while. I do it because it’s the only time I truly love being a dentist. Helping people gives me so much joy.
Sawyers do not get distracted. My mother works at the office as a receptionist, so the Sawyer Dental Practice is a family affair. She never books serious procedures, like root canals or veneers, on Monday. So at least there’s that.
Guilt roars through me as I look up maps and timeframes of how fast I can get from rural Northern California to San Diego after our dinner. It will be ten hours, at least, of driving, mostly through the night. For all my mom knows, I’m on my way back now, probably north of L.A. Not in this tiny town we went to once for the rare vacation my mom practically threatened divorce over.
Time moves slowly as I wait. I try to nap in my car since I’ll have a long drive ahead of me. Every time I close my eyes, I see her, terrified at my presence. Pulling me aside to ask me to go to dinner. Why was she so scared to see me? We did make all our promises to each other, and then she never responded to my emails and changed her phone number. There’s hope, though—she wants to have dinner with me, and on her birthday no less. Maybe this has been eating at her like it's been eating me.
Dinner is a big deal. If I were nothing to her, she would’ve told me to go away. She wouldn’t be meeting me.
Five o’clock rolls around, and I drive to Auburn, pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant. It’s nondescript from the outside, but inside holds some of the best Italian food I’ve ever tasted. I arrive twenty-five minutes early, my body twitching from anticipation and the long drive I have back to San Diego.
It will be worth it, though. This dinner will answer questions I’ve had for a long time.
I plan to leave for home with zero questions. Clarity. The ability to go back to my life and close this chapter forever.
After this, I can commit to Noelle, and I can finally stop thinking about Emily Finch.
Two minutes before six, a dark SUV pulls in and parks next to me. When I turn my head, Emily turns hers at the same time. Her face is long and terrified. I hope she’s not scared of me.
I wave, and she waves back tentatively. Maybe it’s just nerves.
I exit my car first. Emily stays in hers, her hands glued to the steering wheel.
I stand at my trunk with one hand in my pocket, waiting for her to come out as well. She doesn’t.
After I walk to her window, she’s staring out her windshield. There’s nothing to look at, just cars and a lone potted tree. I knock at her window.
Her door finally opens, and she steps down, her knee buckling under her. I reach for her, but she holds up her hands.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Dandy. Never been better.” Emily’s whole throat moves with a swallow.
