Page 89

Tess

Five days later, my sister-in-law’s at work and my brother takes the morning off to help me be mopey over pancakes. We’re chomping at his favorite diner, The Galley.

“You want sympathy for a breakup that hasn’t happened? I love seeing you, but get off my fucking couch, or I’ll call Alex. Turn on your phone.” Alan’s normally calm face is red with frustration. Wish I could help him out. His hair’s receding, and it gives him a distinguished look. The color of his eyes mirror my own, but they look tired.

“I need to hide a bit longer. Kyle and Cheryl wouldn’t kick me off their couches.”

“Go to Kyle’s bigger house. Tiny condo, with no more room for a sister in self-imposed exile. Go to him or go home to Philly. How are you not hearing from him? You’re online.”

“I told everybody to use my book email. Avoided social media.”

“You’re hiding from your phone as well? Your willpower and resolve are scary.”

“I call it discipline.”

“Not healthy in this situation.”

“Oh, it’s so not. There are at least four therapists who would literally yell at me. Too late, it’s how I’m coping. Are you going to Dad’s for Fourth of July?”

“You’re a fucking loon! Yes. Aren’t you going with Alex’s family to the Cape?”

I shake my head. “New plan. Going to Dad’s in like twenty minutes and staying for a while, you know, through the fourth.”

“Carole will love that.” We both laugh heartily, knowing she only tolerates his kids. She’s a nice enough stepmom but never wanted to mother us. Dad overindulges the three of us out of guilt over our dead mother. But Carole can cook.

“I’m only going for the mac and cheese.”

“Get a hotel tonight. Don’t your books sell really well?”

“They do. You wanna house? Let me buy you a house with a spare bedroom, so I don’t have to sleep on the couch like I’m twenty-two and crashing?”

“You are crashing. And no. Don’t buy us a house. We already bought one.”

I sit up and start clapping. “I want to see it! Take me there. Can I pay the first year’s mortgage?”

“Save the money for something else. The house is in Seattle.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I was hired by a big IT firm up there, and it’s really good money. Kyle’s there. And it’s a good move for the baby and us.”

“I’ll go too. Southern California is played out for all of us.” I sip my coffee and then hear what he actually said. “HOLY SHIT! WHAT IS IT? I’m an AUNTIE! THE KID CAN HAVE ALL THE MONEY!” I leap to his side of the table and hug him.

“Boy. Alana’s four months and super tired and cranky.”

“I’ll get the hell off the couch.” I’m still hugging my brother and realize I have a piece of pancake on my sleeve. I’m not usually this girl. I need to get a grip.

“Can we have that money for college?” Alan winks as he leaves for work. I sip more coffee and contemplate my spider hole. I’ll go to New York with my rewrite and sleep in Joan and Daryll’s guest suite. For the first time in days, I want to turn on my phone and look up real estate in Seattle. Maybe that’s home.

I walk back to Alan’s and think about my self-imposed pity party. I need to go back to my life. And, more than anything, I need to shower. I’ve been wearing a Dodger’s beanie for two days. It will need to be burned. This is the longest I’ve ever gone without a phone or talking to Alex since we met.

I turn the corner, and a voice bellows, and every dog walker and old person out for a walker stroll turn their heads. Some sit down, waiting for the play to unfold before them. He’s standing in front of Alan’s condo stairs.

He bolts down the street, screaming, “DON’T YOU EVER GO DARK ON ME AGAIN.” I have no breath or words as Alex verbally assaults me. Not sure how or why he’s here. “As angry as I am. Fucking furious, more furious than I’ve ever been in my whole fucking life, I’m more worried. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I say nothing. A little worried he’s going to smell my BO if I get much closer.

“ANSWER ME! What do you have to say for yourself? Have you turned your entire world against me? No one would tell me where you were. Joan’s pissed off. And your father wants no part of me. Jesus. I tracked your father down from an ancient address book on your desk. Not—”