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I’m not sure if the Mount Everest–sized awkwardness in the elevator is real or just a figment of my imagination. I think we both want to make out, but we’re still honoring the kid rule. But that’s the thing. I don’t want to live in the past, pretending to be a kid. This is my life, my future, and it’s too damn exciting to pretend to be anything else.
Elijah stands still, his gaze focused on the descending numbers at the top of the doors. It isn’t until we level out on the first floor that he looks over at me.
The doors slide open and we’re thrown into the fake forest of the lobby. “There’s something you need to see.” Reaching into my purse, I take out Sasha’s fat-cat greeting card. “I read it early. You should read it, too, just … not in front of me.”
He quirks an eyebrow and I press the card into his hand. “I’m not sure what it means. We can talk in the car.” He walks ahead of me.
In the weeks following Sasha’s diagnosis, we wasted so much breath talking about what might happen, what could happen, what would happen. After a while, Sasha shook her head and held out her hands and said, “We can talk all day long. It is what it is, okay? Let’s just live in the moment and enjoy what we’ve got.”
Her words play over in my mind as I make my way back through the giant doors and between the towering concrete bears. I’ve spent my entire life following Sasha’s path, taking up residence in her shadow and making myself comfortable there. She was brilliant and confident, everything I wasn’t. I’d never questioned the path we walked together.
But now she’s gone and I’ve got some questions.
If she were here, I don’t doubt for one second that I’d find the courage to stand up for myself. It’s a little trickier now that she’s gone, though. Can I honor her while ignoring her instructions?
But she fought her fight, and now I’m going to fight mine.
I tug my jacket around me and walk quickly to my car. Elijah is leaning against the trunk, hands in his pockets, hair all a mess from the chilly breeze. “Does this mean she doesn’t want us to be together?”
“I don’t care what it means,” I say, only stopping when my toes are pressed against his. The wind whips my hair back, probably making me look like one of those dogs with their head out a car window, but Elijah looks at me like he doesn’t mind what he sees. “I want to live in the moment,” I continue. My hands are in my pockets, but I wish they were wrapped in his. “I want to stop hiding and lying just to keep a promise we made to Sasha after she died. I love her more than anything, but she’s gone now. We have to live for us.”
His head tilts slightly and I let myself get lost in his gaze, in those oceans of deep blue. “Okay, then.”
I wait for him to reach out and pull me against his muscled chest, wrapping me in the scent of his cinnamon gum, kissing me in ways that’ll make the passing parents toss dirty looks our way. It doesn’t happen though, and instead he holds out the card.
“What do you think is on the video?”
“What video?” I ask, just as he flips the card with his fingers, showing me the back. There’s a pink URL written on the back, one of those shortened kinds that always take us to a video of Sasha.
I pop my trunk and Elijah picks up my suitcase for me. “Let’s watch it when we get home?” I ask.
He closes my trunk and nods. “Then I’ll take you on a real date.”
***
Mr. Reinhart won’t let me leave until we’ve come inside and had some of his wife’s triple chocolate cake. I’m reminded of that famous painting of the farmer and his wife when I meet the Reinharts, although they both have silver hair and Mrs. Reinhart is quite a bit bigger in the midsection. She insists that I call her Jarrah, and she serves up a slice of cake that could feed a family of four.
“I can’t remember the last time I won something,” Mr. Reinhart says. He holds his fork with two fingers and I notice he’s missing a pinky on his right hand.
“Oh?” I say.
Elijah clears his throat. “Yeah, it was pretty cool. Raquel is a lucky person.”
I lift an eyebrow and he just gives me this look like he wants me to trust him, so I turn back to his temporary family and nod enthusiastically. This must be the lie he told about why we were going on vacation.
“I wish we’d win a vacation,” Jarrah says, pointing her glass of milk at her husband. “We could use one.”
They chuckle, sharing one of those moments that makes you know they’ve been a married couple for probably longer than I’ve been alive. I find myself wishing Sasha could meet them.
Eventually, Elijah walks me back out to my car, tablet in hand.
“Ready?”
I hold my breath while he types in the URL. It could be a video of Sasha making fun of us for liking each other. Or it could be her formal blessing in person — well, in video. I don’t even know what to hope for.
Sasha appears on the screen wearing a Hello Kitty beanie with her name airbrushed across it. We’d got it at the Market Square in San Antonio several years ago. Her hollow eyes are darker than ever. This was recorded after the other videos we’ve seen. The girl on the screen is dying.
Her jaundiced face leans toward the camera. “Hey guys,” she says. “I don’t know how to tell you this, and honestly, it kind of screws up a couple videos I’ve already recorded, so now I have to redo them.” She holds up a notebook and then drops it into her lap. “I’m trying to figure out how to rearrange some letters now. My whole plan just got a wrench thrown in it.”
