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I don’t disagree, so I say nothing.
“Well, I enjoyed getting to know her, and I’m glad you brought her home. Plus, those gifts she gave us were so sweet.”
I pause while smearing mustard on a slice of bread. “What gifts?”
Juna leans forward. “We all got emails this morning giving us books. Mami got a cookbook, Papi got a spy novel, I got some romances that Kara was horrified to learn I hadn’t read, Noah got a book about science experiments, and Sylvie got a few YA romance novels, including one with a trans lead which—” she smacks her forehead “—why didn’t I think of that?”
Fuck, Kara is so caring and kind and, if possible, I just fell even more in love with her.
Love.
My knife clatters on the counter when I drop it. Three days holed up with my family in a snowstorm, and I’ve fucking fallen in love.
“Oh lord. That’s a serious epiphany going on there.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “I wanted to see Kara again. I told her I’d fly to see her or that she could move here, and I’d help her rebuild her business. But her family lives in New York, and asking her to move was stupid.”
“Um, why can’t you move there? You mostly work remote, and Heartly has an office in New York.”
I stare at my sister. “Because I don’t want to leave my family behind. You live here. You are the most important part of my life.”
“We are, for now.” She leans forward, clasping my hand in hers. “You know I love you and our parents. But if Tom was offered a job he wanted, if we had to move to make him happy, I would do it in a heartbeat. Most families don’t grow up as close as we do. And while I love having you around to take care of our parents or spend time with my kids, I don’t want you to sacrifice your own happiness and the opportunity for you to have love—the kind of love that brings out deeply buried joy inside of you, the kind of love that has you laughing and smiling and mooning over someone—just because you want to be near us.”
Could I move to New York? Could I stand to see my family once or twice a year? Is it worth taking the risk, hoping that Kara’s willing to be with me?
In our discussion this morning, I never thought to ask if I could move to be with her. But she also never said she didn’t want to be with me—just that she didn’t see how it could work.
She may not love me yet. But I’m not ready to let go.
I spin around, racing out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room, where my phone waits. Nash answers on the third ring.
“If I were to move to New York, would there be a job for me?”
15
Kara
“Du bisch wundervoll”echoes over and over again in my head while I wait in line, check my bags, and get to my gate. I honestly thought it would be the feel of Peter inside me, the way his hand covered my mouth, the bounce of his laugh over me, that would get stuck in my mind. Instead, it’s three simple words.
I don’t speak Swiss-German, but I know enough to know “du” means you and “wundervoll” means wonderful, and I can piece together the rest.
You are wonderful.
I get plenty of compliments. My sisters, leaving their kids behind while I babysit, tell me I’m a godsend. My clients tell me I do a great job. EvenI love you, ultimately the best compliment ever, is thrown generously around my family because, of course, we do love each other.
But after spending time with Peter’s family, the rawness of all the feelings and the awareness of beingseen, this simple compliment shoots into my chest and strikes a fire deep inside me that maybe I’d forgotten existed.
From the gate, I text my family that I’m on my way. I board the plane and fall asleep shortly after takeoff.
When I wake up, I connect my phone to the in-flight internet, and it vibrates with a message in my group chat with Bea and Clara.
Clara
I emerged from the Christmas Chalet Utopia Fog—but only briefly to wish you all a Merry Christmas. I hear the airports are open again. Kara, are you flying home? Bea, did you survive the cabin?
Bea
I did. We’re driving back after breakfast. The cabin is finally wearing our parents down. They have been less resistant to the idea of going somewhere else next year.
