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Asshole!
Iskander claims to have an emergency at work. Instead of driving me to the ferry station as he originally agreed, he leaves me at the bed and breakfast. He swears he’ll send a car service that’ll take me home.
What happened to the perfect weekend?
Either he didn’t believe the tests were for Nydia, or just the idea of ever being a father sent him to a hospital to get a vasectomy. Either way, I’m pissed at him. The driver doesn’t have orders to go to Luna Harbor. He drops me at the station, leaving me with a bad taste.
I’m not stranded, but I feel as if he just left me without a second thought. As I’m waiting for the next ferry, I receive a text.
“It better be Iskander apologizing for being an asshole,” I mutter under my breath.
But I’m wrong. It’s actually Anya.
Anya:Can you come to Chicago? It’s an emergency.
I stare at the phone for several minutes while waiting for her to call or tell me more. Nothing arrives.
The last time she had an emergency, it was the middle of my senior year in college. She called me in tears. Her father died of an accidental overdose. It was one of the most devastating days in her life. They didn’t have a relationship, but she was trying to build a bridge between them. She believed he had finally kicked the addiction.
I was there for her to organize the funeral and… well, almost everything. For years, we relied on each other up until she got married. Later I moved out of Chicago.
Our relationship went from forever sisters toSisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Not that we exchange one piece of clothing all the time while writing long letters about our current life. It’s more like we send each other a present for our birthday or Christmas and text often.
Last year, when she had a baby, I sent a few toys and clothes. I promised to visit her soon, but I’ve been too preoccupied with the brewery, my friends, and the small town that harbored me when I thought my life had ended.
I tell myself it doesn’t make me a bad friend. It just makes me human. But now that she needs me, I can remedy everything by being there for her. And so, I dare to text back. That’s the only way I’ll figure out what’s happening with her.
Siobhan: What kind of emergency? You need bail money? Is Rumi okay?
Anya: I have some health issues. How soon can you be here?
I’m stuck on health issues and afraid to ask more about them. Then, I convince myself it’s something simple like the flu. Maybe Mitchell is out of town and she needs help. It could be a dental problem. They say that a tooth infection hurts more than childbirth.
She needs help with Rumi. I’m not an expert on babies. The little I know, I owe it to Fisher Hannigan and his son Keaghan. Which is technically nothing since Keaghan has too many aunts and uncles to take care of him. Still, I could do something for Rumi and Anya. This is the perfect excuse to disappear from Luna Harbor.
While I’m in Chicago, I can start looking for a job, figuring out where to live, and most importantly, give my two-week notice without having to say goodbye. I’ll just ask Nydia to pack my things and ship them when I’ve found an apartment.
Siobhan: I’ll head to the airport.
Anya: You’re the best.
* * *
Under any other circumstance, I would’ve gone to Sea-Tac and waited until there was an available flight, but between Anya’s health and my need to run away, I call Byron Langdon. He manages Manelik’s band, Too Far From Grace and knows everyone in the world. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but Nydia told me that if I needed anything, I should contact him.
I’m not sure what to expect when I explain I have to be in Chicago for a family emergency.
Within ten minutes, a driver arrives at the ferry terminal. In thirty, I’m on a private jet. When I text him to let him know that I can’t afford the ride, he answers with a crypticYou’ll just owe me a favor.
Hopefully, it’s not my firstborn. I’m reminded that I have to take a test and also that I left the boxes in the hotel. According to Iskander, there’s no point in carrying them around when Nydia won’t be back for a couple of months. She can buy a test when she’s ready to find out if she’s pregnant.
This is what I get for lying. Now I have to go to the pharmacy again. At least no one in Chicago will care if I’m buying a pregnancy test, if I’m having the child of Luna Harbor’s prodigal child, or if I… if I don’t have a plan.
The private plane has wi-fi. Instead of trying to get some sleep, I spend four hours searching for a job and sending emails to my old contacts. If I’m lucky, I might be able to land a few interviews soon.
I just need… I look at my shorts and t-shirt. Maybe after arriving at Anya’s house, I can go to the store and buy new clothing. If I had packed, I would’ve brought a couple of dresses.
This is what happens when you trust your plans to someone else—something always fails. I like to be in charge. This is one of the biggest reasons Iskander and I wouldn’t have worked as a couple. He’s bossy—too bossy. I like my independence. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. If he ever lets himself love, he needs some kind of damsel in distress. That’ll never be me—I’m not weak.
