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“You have another sister.”
I snort. Our older sister Amanda has the ruthlessness of Mom combined with the quiet efficiency of Dad. She’d sort my life out in five minutes with spreadsheets, but it wouldn’t be my life—it would be hers. Plus, her wife Hazel would kill me if I called at 5 a.m. and woke up the kids.
Silence stretches and I’m about to ask Jessie if she’s still awake when she speaks again.
“You need something to be passionate about, to pour your energy into. Try stuff out and see what sticks. Volunteer at an animal shelter, or find something that would allow you to work with kids, maybe teaching them some kind of—” Whatever she says gets lost in a yawn.
It can’t be that easy, can it? Objectively, those are good ideas. I could play with dogs and goof off with kids. “Great…now how do I walk away from the stupid human tricks?” Mom calls them that. Not my favorite, but it’s a convenient shorthand for my hobbies. “How did you do it with painting?”
Her voice picks up a bitter edge. “I heard how bad I was over and over until it hurt too much to try?”
Shit. Stepped on a landmine. My heart aches for my sis. I didn’t realize this was still a sore point. I thought she’d moved on. What else is she holding on to? Orwhoelse. I clear my throat. “Right, but make this about me.” I’d rather she be annoyed with me than stuck dwelling on rejections. “How do I stop doing things I love?”
She thinks about it for a minute. “I still doodle,” she says with another yawn. “Guess I didn’t really quit.”
She doodles. Little pieces of art just for her, no risk attached. I’m glad she was able to hold on to that, but I want more for her.
“Why don’t you try running a marathon?” she suggests.
I laugh. If she knew Nic had the same idea, she’d backtrack so fast she’d get dizzy.
Jessie yawns again and this time it feels pointed and deliberate, a massive hint to me that she’d rather be sleeping. “You’re going to be okay, Timothy. You don’t need to jump around on chairs or fall out of the sky. You’ll always be a big dumb Labrador puppy in human form, and we’ll always love you anyway.”
That. Right there. My entire body freezes as something warm pushes out from my chest. I’m stuck because I’m scared. I don’t know what comes next and I’m terrified I will never be good at anything other than stunt work. That I’ll spin out and lose control and leave a trail of destruction in my wake without some place to channel my energy. That I’ll be too much for the people I love to stand by me.
I’m wrong. They ones who matter will always love me. Even Mina, even if she’s too scared to be with me.
I am loved and my fear is pointless.
And my ego…
I’d told myself countless times that the cheers and admiration were a side perk, and I was doing the job for me, to find a sense of calm and banish the twitchy feelings. Maybe sometimes that’s been true, but not always. Not even most of the time, and I can see that so clearly in this moment. When I asked my mom to get rid of the balloons and flowers in the hospital, it was because I couldn’t face disappointing people who believed in me. When I couldn’t bring myself to face Danny and the rest of the crew, it was because I felt like an impostor. When I got on that chair to play The Floor is Lava, I couldn’t let Dex have the cheers I felt were mine.
My ego needs to take a backseat. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone to be worthy of love.
“I am a hot dummy,” I say absently into the phone.
“Not hot,” Jessie replies instantly.
I laugh. God, I feel lighter than I have in days. “You give the best pep talks.”
“You called me at five a.m., what do you expect?”
“Emergency existential crisis. Couldn’t wait. Thanks, J. I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
She mumbles something about her alarm and fifteen minutes, but I end the call with a loud kissy noise and a “love you, J.”
Everything feels clear now. Obvious, in retrospect. Seriously, I am a hot dummy. I absently kick my legs through the water, enjoying the feeling of moving through it, staring at the dark sky too full of light pollution to see the stars.
I’m done with hiding away and sulking, holding onto a past that’s no longer my present. Time to be awesome at other things.
Not marathons, though.
I need to talk to Mina. I want to hold her and apologize for scaring her. I love her too much to lose her. If she’ll have me back, I’m hers and we’ll have an earnest discussion about her fears.
If she won’t take me back, I want her friendship. Even if it hurts.
Boxes of finished panties started to arrive at my place the other day, and I need to bring them to Nic’s for Mina to embroider anyway, so tomorrow morning I’ll do that. And hand her my heart one last time.
