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Swinging a giggling Ella into his arms, Luka inclines his head towards the street. “Looks like we’re about to find out.”
“Everything okay?” Seth asks in a low whisper as he moves to stand next to me, his arm brushing mine. At the curb, two shiny black SUVs pull up. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost on your phone a little while ago.”
Maybe because I did. I don’t say that, of course. I smile up at him (he sees right through it, I know, because his eyes narrow in response) and squeeze his hand briefly. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“See, that sentence makes me worry about you,” he says with a sigh, lifting Eli into his arms when my son toddles over. Car doors slam, meaning it’s time to play HGTV, and Seth directs a serious look at me. “You and I are talking after we’re finished here. Got it?”
A combination of nerves from the email and the love from Seth’s protective tone knot in my abdomen, and I nod.
They love it.
The mayor and the other three city officials we just walked through the house loved it. If, that is, the raised brows and appreciative murmurs meant anything. Not gonna lie, I felt like a proud Mama Bear watching the teens take turns explaining what we did in each room. Especially because they had no heads up to prepare. Even Alessia stepped up to the plate, sharing how we redid the master bedroom layout to have a little less closet space that allows for an en suite bathroom, complete with a shower I wouldloveto have at my house. I mean, my shower is wonderful. But the shower head we picked out is supposed to mimic arainforest.A rainforest! Like, how cool is that? Besides, all eight of us traipsing the aisles of Menards a few weeks ago was something I had to capture on video, and I will laugh so hard I snort every time I watch it back.
Apparently the shower head is rainforest-like, because Colin tested it out yesterday. Fortunately for us all, he kept his shorts on, but I didn’t think he’d turn the water on.
Back to the tour, I (biasedly) can’t see who wouldn’t like the house. What used to be closed-off, boxy rooms piled high with stuff that reeked like smoke and Chanel No. 5 was drastically transformed into an open concept, comfortable and tasteful lakefront home. With Wynn and Marshall’s expert guidance, we selected earthy tones of muted eucalyptus and oatmeal and very-close-to-white paint colors for most of the walls. Added wood accents throughout the home that give it a charming, quaint vibe. Used unique light fixtures to give it personality and chose functional but hip furniture upon Ember’s guidance to stage it.
Basically, we took a 70s baby and time-traveled it into the 21stcentury, and now everyone is awestruck by our power. We need a team name. Anybody have suggestions? I feel like it would be a perfect commemorative of this summer—this beautiful, crazy, unexpected summer—if we had T-shirts with our team’s name on them.
Yellow for the girls, blue for the boys. We’d match our cozy cottage.
“I don’t think there’s anything to say other thanwow,” Mayor Leo says when we step onto the back deck of the house. Despite the hot late August air, he’s wearing a pair of light gray khakis with a blue and yellow checkered button up, and he adjusts his glasses before continuing. “That’s something we can all agree on.” He pauses, and the three city folks with him—Mason, the city manager, Denise, the city clerk, and Ava, the city commissioner—nod in agreement. “And because of that, the chief and I have worked out a plan to give this place the recognition it deserves.”
I bite my lip as the teens look at each other, then at Seth, as if glances will answer their unvoiced questions. Seth only smiles lightly, his hand on my lower back, Eli asleep in his other arm. My little guy was a trouper until we got to the final bedroom. Apparently, the custom herringbone wooden headboard Wynn made was enough to put Eli to sleep. Ella, on the other hand, is sandwiched between her “new best friends” Mazzy and Alessia, watching the mayor with surprising intent from a five-year old.
“One week from this Saturday, we’re going to have a little open house,” Leo says, his handlebar mustache twitching as he smiles. “At this open house, there will be interested buyers, of course. It will also be an opportunity for your parents and siblings and friends or family to witness the official first recipients of a very special scholarship award, the name of which I’m not allowed to disclose yet.”
Shocked silence blankets the group, making the waves lapping at the nearby shore surprisingly loud. I’m not sure what kind of reaction I expected, but to have all four teens stare open-mouthed at the mayor wasn’t it.
Seth clears his throat after what must be a full minute. “Is that a little better heads up, Mazzy?”
The joke lifts the silence, and suddenly, there are three conversations going at once. Mazzy and Luka are talking to the mayor, practically interrogating the poor man. Alessia and Colin are talking about how Colinknewwe chose the right paint colors all along. (Men, am I right?) Seth’s talking to the other three city officials about the open house and what kind of turnout they’re expecting, Eli still asleep in his arms, and Ella now plastered to his side as she listens in, Seth’s hand resting on her head.
And I’m standing here, unable to converse because the email on my phone is burning a hole in my pocket. Quietly, I slip away unnoticed and backtrack through the house, pulling the device from my shorts as I walk. My heart pounds when I lower onto the front porch step—well, the porch itself was compromised, so the house now has a little stoop—and I tap into my email app.
At the top of my inbox, I have an unread email from Jade O’Malley.
I click on it, my eyes greedily scanning the body to see the length of the message like any person does. Then suck in a sharp breath because there are no long paragraphs. Actually, if three sentences constitute a paragraph, there isn’t even one paragraph at all.
Jenna,
I’m not in a place to reconnect right now. I hope you can understand that for me.
Jade
Hot tears pool in my eyes as I toss my phone into the plush front yard, burying my face in my hands. I pour my heart out in a letter to my older sister, wait for weeks to get a response, and then she shuts me out with a two-sentence email? All that effort from Braeden and the insistence on Sam’s part and Seth’s steady presence through it all? And for what? To have all our efforts go to waste because Jade’s “not in a place to reconnect?”
“Jen?”
Seth’s concerned voice startles me, and I wipe quickly at my eyes. But it’s too late. He lowers to a squat in front of me and gingerly picks up my phone, which I didn’t bother to turn off. I watch through blurry eyes as he reads the email, note the way his jaw tightens, brace myself for the pity in his eyes.
But he doesn’t look at me.
Without a word, he’s on the step beside me, pulling me against his chest. The fabric of his T-shirt catches my tears, and the strength of his arms anchors me to him. The thought of never seeing my sister again, of never meeting my nephew, has me clinging to him even more tightly.
“I’m sorry, Jen,” he whispers against my temple. One hand rests on my back while the other cradles the back of my head. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you wanted to reconnect with Jade.”
I’m not sure how long we sit here, but I do know I cry all the tears out in my body. Seth’s shirt looks like he did a workout and is sweating profusely, but he doesn’t comment on it when I pull away. He gently uses the pads of his thumbs to brush under my puffy, sore eyes, presses a kiss to my forehead, frames my face in his hands.
