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This is what comes with raising a teenage girl, Jake. He’ll see them in the laundry at some point.
“Tiernan?” Noah calls. “Your phone is ringing!”
I draw in a breath and slide off Jake, hearing him clear his throat as we both pull up to our feet.
Running into the house, I grab my phone off the island, seeing Mirai’s name light up on the screen.
I answer it. “Hey.”
“Tiernan,” she bursts out, sounding relieved to reach me. How long had the phone been ringing? “So good to hear your voice,” she says. “I haven’t heard from you. I was anxious to see how you’re doing.”
Jake steps into the kitchen, closing the door and catches my eyes as he walks for the fridge.
My pulse still races. “I’m good,” I tell her.
“You like it there? Everything is…fine?”
“Yeah.” I linger around the island as Jake cracks open a beer. “They keep me busy. Lots of sun and fresh air.”
“That’s good.” Her voice is gentle. Sweet. Had it always sounded like that? “As long as they’re kind to you.”
“Yes,” I say, knowing Jake is listening. “They’re kind to me.”
I meet his gaze, smiling as he rolls his eyes and smirks.
“Listen, I didn’t want to bother you,” she tells me, “but your parents’ funeral will be the day after tomorrow.”
I blink, looking away from my uncle. The funeral. Guilt overtakes me. I hadn’t thought about it in days.
I actually hadn’t thought about my own parents’ funeral.
“I’m really sorry about the rush,” Mirai continues. “With certain attendees, we were pressured to work around their schedules.”
I nod. “Of course.”
I feel Jake watching me.
“You don’t have to come,” she informs me. “Everyone will understand.”
My stomach sinks at the thought of getting on a plane. The idea of leaving here—going there… It’s the last thing I want to do.
But I don’t hesitate.
“Get me a flight, okay? Tonight is fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Jake sets his bottle on the counter, planting both hands as he stares at me.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Talk soon.”
“Okay,” she says. “Give me an hour.”
I hang up, and Noah must’ve heard, because he’s walking over as soon as I set the phone down.
“You’re leaving?” he asks.
But I look at my uncle. “My parents’ funeral is the day after tomorrow,” I tell him. “She’ll try to get me a flight tonight. I hate to ask, but can you give me a ride to the airport?”
