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“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Get in here,” I say, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him across the threshold. “Want to go out back?”
“Sure,” he says, reaching out and touching my hair. “Anywhere is fine.”
Sean follows me through the kitchen and into the living room, where I grab a blanket off the back of the couch. We go out the double doors to the back patio. Without me asking him to, Sean pushes one of the lounge chairs right next to the other; we sit and I drape the blanket over both of us.
“Okay,” he says when we’re settled. “Open it.”
I rip the paper before the words are fully out of his mouth. Sean laughs while I eagerly pry open the box. I suck in my breath when I see the silver bracelet with a heart locket.
“There’s a picture in there,” he says, pointing to the charm.
Thankful that the porch sensor lights are still on, I pop it open and feel a rush of emotion when I see the tiny framed photo of me and Sean at his mom’s studio that day so long ago. He’s standing behind me with his arm around the top of my shoulder and across my chest like he’s protecting me. Our faces are pressed together. Sean’s looking at the camera and his mouth is near my ear; my face is dipped down and to the right like I’m listening to him tell me a secret.
“I wonder what you were saying to me in this picture.”
“I know what I was thinking,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“That I love you.”
A breeze picks up and I shiver, but not because of the weather. I look into Sean’s eyes and feel like I’m going to burst. I owe him so much, for his friendship and support, for his love and honesty. For seeing the real me before the rest of the world had the chance to.
“I love you, too,” I say, and then I kiss him, just as the motion-sensor lights click off.
thirty-two
One month later, the day after Christmas, Mom lets Ella and me take Betsey to the airport alone. I know Mom wants to come, but I also know that she’s done controlling us for now. I can only hope that it’s because she’s trying to give back some of the freedom she stole away.
Instead of hugging goodbye at the curb, Ella parks and we walk Betsey inside. We’ve never left one another before, and Ella and I prolong it by getting into the security line with Bet and snaking around as far as we can go.
“Promise not to come back next summer with a Massachusetts accent?” I say, rounding a corner and stepping to the left to avoid someone’s suitcase.
“Why?” Betsey says, laughing. “They’re wicked awesome.”
“We’ll text every day, okay?” Ella says, making a pinkie promise without the childish gesture. Betsey nods.
“We will,” I agree. We’re almost to the front of the line.
“You know,” Betsey says, glancing at the two people ahead of her. She takes a few steps forward and we follow. “We haven’t said it in years, but you guys are my sisters. But more than that, you’re my best friends.” She looks from Ella to me. “Don’t forget that, okay?”
“I won’t,” I say, unable to hold back the tears. It makes Ella and Bet cry, too; we all hug, then wipe tears on our shirtsleeves and sniff back runny noses.
“Driver’s license and boarding pass,” the security agent says with no emotion, despite our blubbering. Bet sniffs one final time and gets it together; this calms Ella and me. Betsey hands the items to the guy, then looks at me and says quietly, “It’s okay to forgive her.”
There’s no time to answer; the man waves her through. But I’m not sure I would’ve said anything if there were.
Ella and I hop out of line and watch Bet take off her shoes and jacket and go through the metal detector. When she’s on the other side, she stops, turns, and holds up a hand. A hand that matches mine.
“Live your life,” I whisper to her. There’s no way she hears, but somehow I know that she understands. She nods at me, then walks away.
“Come on, let’s go,” I hear from behind me.
I turn to see Ella moving toward the exit to the parking lot, expecting me to follow. I look from her to Bet and back again, watching them pull away from me in different directions, marveling at how whole I feel in spite of it. I’ve craved individuality, but a little part of me feared that with it might come loneliness, too. But I don’t feel lonely today; I feel full. I feel strong.
Smiling, I look once more at my sisters—left, then right.
