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The closest is a cute yellow home with white trim. It’s the three-bedroom house that I bought for mom and dad a couple of years ago when Ala told me it went up for sale. The house further back is Ala’s white two-story home with blue trim and a porch swing. Both are built into the side of the hill and have small yards in the front. Mom and Dad’s yard has a full vegetable garden, and Ala and Ben’s has a little patch of grass with flowers trimming it.
I close my eyes for a moment, seeing two teenagers sneaking kisses and whispering promises. I shake my head and open my eyes again. Stop that. You’ll never be that girl again, and he’ll never be your cowboy again. The more I think about seeing Jaxon, the more I’m sure it’ll be just what I need to finally rid him from my thoughts for good. I’ll be able to see him as he is now, not as the boy I fell in love with all those years ago. It will be like seeing your favorite movie star in real life and realizing that they’re not the icon you’d imagined. Working in Hollywood, I’d had that happen often enough. Thanks again, Trey Wentworth. I’m sure meeting Jax again is what I need to break the spell.
I climb out of the car and grab my purse, deciding I’ll come back for my suitcase after I greet everyone. It’s a beautiful seventy degrees, perfect weather for fall. The smell of my parent’s garden and someone barbecuing fills the air. A breeze blows strands of my long hair from my shoulders. “Hello Bisbee. So we meet again.” It’s just how I remember it.
My dad throws open the front door of my sister’s house and I expect him to warmly greet me, but he doesn’t even seem to notice that I’m standing at the bottom of the stairs. He’s looking back into the house like he’s waiting. I’m about to say something, but before I get the chance, Ben and my Mom rush out of the house each holding one of my sister’s arms. They’re all talking in a rush.
“Breathe,” Mom says. “In and out, in and out.” She nods her head. “That’s right. Focus on the act of it. In and out.”
“You’re doing great,” Ben says to Ala. “You’re amazing.”
Ala breathes heavily, and her face is scrunched in pain.
It’s too early for her to go into labor, but she clearly has. I rush up the stairs to meet them. “What’s happening?”
That’s when they finally notice me.
“Malia!” everyone says with wide eyes, as if they’re all shocked to see me. I did tell them I was coming in today. Wait a minute, they didn’t think I was actually going to come. They have no faith in me. I would be more offended if I weren’t so worried about why they’re all rushing my pregnant sister out of the house.
“Pa, get the car going,” Mom says to Dad. Dad nods and rushes down the stairs. When we pass each other, he gives me an “I’m sorry” smile along with a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Aloha, Lia-girl. ‘Bout time you came to see us.” Then he rushes off to the driveway where Ala’s van waits.
“What’s going on? Is the baby okay?”
They continue to make their way down the steps. “I’m sure they’re just Braxton-Hicks contractions,” Ala says. “These three are just worrying over me like a bunch of mother hens.”
Ben’s brows are creased. “Her usual Braxton-Hicks are not typically so strong and regular,” he says.
“And it’s too early for the baby to come,” Mom adds, “so we’re taking her to the hospital.”
My sister sighs. “Guys, really it’s not that—” her voice cuts off and turns into a hiss of pain. She scrunches her face and squeezes Mom and Ben’s hands.
My heart clenches. “What can I do? How can I help?”
“Can you pack a bag for your sister?” Mom asks. “Bring it to the hospital?”
“Of course. Consider it done.” I follow them down the last of the steps.
Ben and Mom help Ala into the car now idling by the end of the staircase.
Just before Mom gets in, she gives me a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Mom. I'll be right behind you guys. If you find out anything before I get there, let me know.”
“Will do,” she says, then shuts the door.
As I watch the minivan race down the winding road, the feeling of helplessness takes root in my stomach, and I feel sick. I say a quick prayer that she and the baby will both be okay and climb back up the stairs wondering what I should pack.
A half hour later, after looking online to find out what I should pack for Ala and deciding that the recommended list isn’t nearly enough, I’m on the road heading to Canyon Vista Medical Center in Sierra Vista.
As I’m driving on the highway, halfway between Bisbee and Sierra Vista, a loud pop sounds and the steering wheel pulls to the right. The tire pressure light flashes on the dashboard with a loud beeping.
I curse and pull off onto the dirt shoulder, bringing the car to a full stop. As far as I can see, there’s only empty highway and land on either side. Of course, I get a flat tire when I’m out in the middle of nowhere. There are no buildings. No gas station with an attendant that might change my tire with a little flirting on my end. Nothing.
I climb out of the car, wave the dust from the air, and go check the damage. The tire is completely flat. Great. I have roadside assistance, but all the way out here it would probably be at least an hour before anyone came. If I change it myself, I could be out of here in about twenty minutes. It’s been years since I’ve changed a tire. Do I even remember how? I look down at my clothes and sigh. I’m wearing blush-colored fitted slacks, a white fine-knit sweater, and nude stiletto heels. Julie says to be prepared for paparazzi at all times. I’m dressed to impress, not to change a tire.
I think about Ala, and my heart clenches. I’m not going to take the extra time to wait for someone else to come do what I know I can figure out myself . . . I think. I take a deep breath and set to the task of changing the tire and ruining my perfectly posh outfit. Awesome.
I’m crouched down, working on getting the last nut off. I already have several smudges of black on my blush pants and top. I’m sure no amount of dry cleaning will get it out. I tug as hard as I can with the wrench, but no matter how hard I work at it, I can’t seem to get the darn thing loose. I have my hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of my head, but despite the cool breeze, sweat runs down my spine.
