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Did it fly? Could Sister A see through the truth to the hope? The truth was they weren’t together. But the hope Gia wanted to use day 366 of her sobriety to kiss Roxi again. And mean it.
“Oh, sorry—the way she talks about you, I just—never mind. You needed to go. See you around.” Janelle scurried into the locker room faster than she scurried up a climbing wall, and Gia wondered. Had Roxi asked her to do that? Asked her to prod and gauge Gia’s interest? In a scene that was very reminiscent of eighth grade, where people used their friends to suss out potential love interests, had Sister A been a plant? They hadn’t seen each other since the competition in Newport Beach—why was she there that night? Or was Gia overly suspicious for no reason at all? The sisters had always been inquisitive and borderline pushy, so the behavior wasn’t out of character.
But it made her think.
She was going to Los Angeles soon to watch opening night of “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.” The last she’d seen Roxi was before Christmas—five months prior—an eternity in budding relationship time. Gia knew she’d changed. How could she not? And Roxi had been living and rehearsing in an entirely different world than her bus driver/family-centric Palm Springs one. She’d have changed, too. How couldshenot?
In Gia’s mind, she’d drive to Los Angeles—in a rental car; hers would never make it—watch the musical’s opening night. Also in her mind, Roxi would steal the show, even though she had a minor role and only a few lines. After the show, an usher would come whisk Gia backstage to Roxi’s dressing room, where Gia would tell her she was fantastic, she’d missed her so much, and in slow-motion, lit by one of those mirrors with two dozen lightbulbs framing it, they’d kiss. In her imagination, electricity would buzz through her body, from her head to her toes, and the people milling around in the background would clap. Why there were people in the background in an individual dressing room, Gia didn’t know—the imagination is a curious place.
Back in reality, on a wooden bench in the climbing gym, holding her special climbing shoes, Gia wondered—was she expecting too much? What if absence didn’t make the heart grow fonder? What if it just made two people grow apart? She tried to hush her inner critic—the one who said she was being ridiculous; she was trying to sabotage something before it even started—when Courtney sat next to her.
“Nice work today. Everything okay? I thought you’d be gone by now.”
How long had she been sitting there?
“Oh, yeah. Just watching—she’s really impressive.” Gia once again motioned to the prodigy flying up the wall, now spotted by the gym owner’s son, Caleb.
“She is. She’s been doing this since she was three. Runs in the family.”
“You know her?”
“She’s my niece! My brother’s kid. They got sick of L.A. and wanted a slower life. Her mom died when she was little, and since it’s just me and Caleb, they’re living with us for a while till they find a place here.”
“Oh,” Gia said. She wouldn’t admit she hadn’t been thinking about the prodigy climber—or climbing at all. “That’s so nice of you.”
“It’s been great having them. Takes some pressure off, having family around, you know? Someone you can count on no matter what.”
Courtney seemed different, Gia thought. Less frenetic? More approachable? “I bet.”
“Hey—if you don’t have anything this weekend, we’re having a few folks over for a bar-b-que. Why don’t you join us?”
Courtney had her. Shewasfree, unless Derrick suddenly dumped the new guy he was dating and had time for her on a weekend again. Not likely, Gia thought. “Thanks. I’d like that.”
“Great. Saturday at five. I’ll text you the address.” Courtney was five feet away when she finished her thought—her inability to sit still remained.
???
Faced with her climbing coach’s front door, large bottle of sparkling water in hand, Gia had a flashback to the first time she had dinner at Roxi’s. She’d primped and preened on the porch, unaware Roxi had been watching on the doorbell camera. Gia laughed to herself—how foolish she must’ve looked. It turned out to be a fantastic evening, but she wouldn’t make that mistake again. No porch grooming that evening. A quick press of the bell, two steps back, and a smile on deck, she waited.
“Hey, Gia! Come on in—we’re out back!” came a voice from outer space. The front door was closed, and Gia was still alone on the porch.
The video doorbell struck again. What ever happened to not knowing who was behind the door until you opened it?
Grand entrances were never her thing, especially when she knew very few people in a situation. In an attempt to look casual, Gia waited at the edge of the concrete patio, shoved a hand in her pocket and tucked the bottle of water close to her body like a football. Courtney’s backyard was full of teenagers hopping into and out of a kidney-shaped swimming pool, requisite citrus trees along the back fence, smoke wafting into the air from the charcoal grill that was being manned by an unknown man. Must’ve been Courtney’s brother. She assumed the groups of adults chatting in semi-circles were the parents of the swimmers. A clump of miniature palm trees were in the distant corner, and “Down’easter Alexa” played through the outdoor speakers. It was definitely the right house—Courtney loved her Billy Joel.
“Hey, Gia!” A hand found her shoulder. Courtney. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”
If ever there was an anxiety inducing situation, it was a “let me introduce you toeveryone” situation. She’d never remember their names and would beat herself up all evening wondering if she was talking to someone named Mary or Marcy—but wouldn’t ask.
No matter how she tried to not associate situations, Roxi found her way into Gia’s day-to-day. When ordering stock at the market, simple items conjured Roxi. Her favorite cheese. The Mexican soda she loved. Even Q-tips—an essential, Roxi said. Hearing well was critical to singing well. Every time Gia went to a sobriety meeting, she expected Roxi to block her from the cinnamon sugar donut. Now, at Courtney’s house—the pool, the citrus, the people chatting and laughing as if they’d known each other for ages— it was Roxi’s pool party all over again—without the drunk, belligerent ex. She hoped. And Gia was the new kid, all over again.
Courtney introduced her with flair and speed—completely on brand. “Hey, everyone, this is Gia! She’s one of my athletes!”
A little smile, an equally small wave, and someone handed her a red plastic cup with an unknown, yellow-tinted liquid in it. “Cheers,” they said before disappearing.
“Oh, I don’t—” Gia said to no one.
A cup of what was most certainly alcohol was in her hand for the first time in nearly a year, while the other clutched her safety net, the sparkling water. She looked at the cup. Tilted it side-to-side and watched the liquid shift and slosh. How many times had she held one of those cups with mystery concoctions and drank them without even examining? Too many. A sniff revealed it contained tequila. Probably a margarita. Courtney was buzzing around Caleb and his friends, no doubt asking about their snack requirements, and her guests were all enveloped in their own conversations. Not that anyone there knew anything about Gia, or her proclivities.
