I exhaled, though my body remained coiled with tension. “Of course. I, um, did you get my messages?” After the blowup, I’d tried to call Lea several times to apologize. I rolled my eyes. Of course she’d gotten my messages. She’d obviously been avoiding me, and I couldn’t blame her after what I’d done.
“Yes. Thank you. I wanted to call.” She paused, then said, “I’ve wanted to call for a while.”
Why didn’t you?I nearly whispered but figured I already knew the answer. “I’m glad you did.”
“I’m not going to lie—I was upset. I always thought we were so close, and I needed time to process everything that happened.”
I nodded. “That’s fair. And, again, I’m sorry for lying. Truly.”
“Thanks. And I’m sorry too—for not being more supportive. I was blindsided, though I can’t say I’m all that surprised.”
I jerked my head back. “No?”
She laughed, and something eased in my chest. “You’ve always looked at Jonathan as if he hung the moon.”
And here I thought I’d done a good job hiding my feelings for him.
“And now I’ve seen the way he looks at you too.”
I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. “Thanks, Lea. Thank you for calling. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“I love you, Sumner. You know that you’ve always been like a daughter to me. I know we aren’t spending Thanksgiving together this year, but I’ll be thinking about you.”
“I’ll be thinking about you too. I love you, Lea. And I’m so very grateful for you.”
“Well, um, I have to get going. But I’ll check in again soon. If that’s okay,” she added, a rare note of hesitancy in her tone.
“Yes, of course. I’d really like that.”
“Good.”
We were both silent, and I strained my ears, hoping my dad would ask to cut in on the conversation like he often did. Finally, I said, “Have a happy Thanksgiving, and tell Dad I love him.”
“Bye, Sumner,” she said without committing to anything.
Even so, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she’d called. For the first time in months, I was hopeful.
After that, Lea and I settled into a routine of sorts. We’d spoken on the phone a number of times, mostly sticking to “safe” topics like school or fashion. She mentioned my dad, but he still hadn’t spoken to Jonathan or me. I’d expected it would take him time, but I hadn’t realized how painful waiting would be.
Still, communicating with Lea felt like progress. Like we were rebuilding a bridge. Since that first call, our relationship had mostly returned to normal. Well, a new normal where we dodged the topic of my dad or Jonathan.
“How were finals?” she asked.
“Good.” I smiled, tucking the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I stirred the soup on the stove. “I worked my butt off, and I’m more than ready for a break.”
“I bet. I’m sure you aced them, like always.”
“Thanks. I hope so.” I tapped the spoon against the pot before setting it on a dish next to the stove. “So…I’m hoping you’re calling to tell me that you and Dad are coming for Christmas.”
We’d invited my dad and Lea to celebrate Christmas with us in Palo Alto, and she’d been cagey for weeks.
She let out a sigh, and my shoulders slumped as I prepared myself for the bad news. “You aren’t coming,” I said, finally accepting that was the likely outcome.
“I’m sorry, Sum. I just don’t know if it’s a good time.”
“I guess I really hoped if Dad saw us together, saw how happy we were—then maybe…”
“I’m trying. But you know how stubborn he can be.”
