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Rina’s phone buzzed in her pocket, interrupting her reverie. It was her father, calling from California. A shiver of fear raced down her spine. Rina hadn’t spoken to either of her parents in months—not since the previous summer when words that couldn’t be taken back had been exchanged. Nobody knew this, not even Steve. Rina had often considered her trips out East to be running away from her problems at home.
“Dad?” Rina answered, unable to conceal her surprise.
“Rina.” Her father’s voice was ragged and older than she remembered. “Rina, something has happened.”
Rina could no longer feel the harsh wind against her face. She could no longer hear the vibrant celebrations within the bistro. It was as though her consciousness had whittled down to only the sound of her father’s voice, all the way across the continent.
“Your mother,” he explained. “There was an accident. They don’t know if she’s going to make it.”
* * *
Rina burst back through the foyer of the Sunrise Cove. From the bistro came the sound of someone singing—was it Lola? Kelli? Rina couldn’t tell, especially not through the cacophony of the other Sheridans and Montgomerys speaking over one another. Rina was scattered and out of her mind with worry. The sharp chill outside was a horrible reminder of how far away from home she was, how nothing in her life had gone as she’d originally planned. She had to get out of there.
Rina returned to the bathroom to clean herself up. Outside, tears had sprung and frozen on her cheeks, and she rubbed her face with hot water, trying and failing to come up with a plan. What could she tell Steve? She’d never told him what had happened with her family back in California. Whenever she’d spoken about her parents, she’d mentioned them within the context of her childhood—not her adulthood. She’d spoken of them as though they were fictional characters in a book.
The bathroom door burst open yet again to reveal Gail, the twin in jeans and a black sweatshirt who’d been crying. Rina blinked at her in the mirror, waiting for Gail’s twin to appear immediately afterward. But it seemed Gail was alone. Rina had never seen them apart before.
Gail set her jaw and stormed toward the mirror, where she procured eyeliner from her pocket and drew thick lines around her eyes. Rina could see herself in this anger. She remembered herself as a wild and brash teenager who’d listened to punk music too loudly in her car and whipped down Highway 1—ready to take on the world. Or escape it. One or the other.
“Do you want some lipstick?” Rina surprised herself.
Gail blinked at her confusedly. Her lips were slightly chapped; dead skin hung in awkward places. “Okay,” she said.
Rina dug her bright red lipstick from her purse and handed it over to Gail, who tapped at her lips nervously. Rina felt on the verge of weeping, remembering how foolish she’d been with makeup as a teenager. Remembering how she’d asked her mother to help her, but her mother had never gotten around to it.
Now, Rina fought the urge to offer her assistance because Gail didn’t want it. Gail wanted to do everything alone.
Gail did the best she could with the lipstick. It smeared out of line in certain spots, and the color was slightly too garish on her. Gail was a pale redhead, while Rina was a tan California brunette. Still, a certain camaraderie existed when exchanging beauty supplies in the bathroom. Rina had wanted a child so badly when she’d been married to Vic; would she have had moments like this with her daughter? Would she have had good instincts?
“Why are you crying?” Gail asked. Her sharp tone was proof of her inner rage.
Rina wasn’t sure what to say. “I just got some terrible news.”
Gail furrowed her brow and passed the lipstick back. “Join the club. I guess it’s just one of those nights, huh?” She said it as though she’d been through the wringer. “What are you going to do about it?”
Rina drifted toward the mirror and put on the lipstick expertly. “I have to go home,” she said.
“Isn’t that in California?”
Rina nodded. “That’s where I technically live. And it’s where my parents are.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to California,” Gail said. Her hard edges began to melt. “What part?”
“Los Angeles,” Rina said. “I grew up in Santa Monica. By the ocean.”
“Just like me.”
“It’s a very different ocean,” Rina said. “But yes, I can’t imagine living far from water.”
“Try living in Amherst.”
“Is that where you’re going to college?”
Gail nodded and rubbed her temples. Her eyes were distant. In Rina’s pocket, her phone began to buzz again. It was her father. He wavered with uncertainty, so far away. And for once, he needed Rina.
“What bad news did you get tonight?” Rina asked, gripping her phone, daring herself to stay in this bathroom a little longer with this young woman who clearly needed her.
Gail forced her eyes toward Rina’s. “News that changes everything.” With that, she turned on her heel, smashed the flats of her palms against the door, and stormed out of the bathroom. Rina’s ears rang with her boots stomping along the hardwood floor.
