Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Paisley

I turned in front of the mirror, touching my hair. “How do I look?”

“You look good,” Emberlynn said, leaning back against the edge of my bed. “But you looked good in the last five outfits too. I think maybe you just need to commit to something.”

I took a stuffed lizard from the shelf and threw it at her. She barely even looked, just catching it absently. She and Aria had been playing tennis more lately, and I was having less and less luck throwing things at her. “Ugh, you don’t get it. This is serious stuff. I need to look extra, extra, extra good.”

She gave me a tired smile. “You’re going to have to tell me. You know what Harper likes better than I do. I’m still not sure why she’s in love with you.”

“Ugh.” I turned my back to her, hunching my shoulders. “You really think she is?”

I’d meant it as a snarky comment, but it came out in a soft voice like I just didn’t… didn’t know if I dared to hope that. Emberlynn walked past me, putting the lizard back on the shelf, and she sighed. “I know for a fact she is,” she said. “She wouldn’t have come back here like this for just anybody.”

I looked down, fussing with the dress—that same red minidress I’d worn for our treehouse date. Because it was obvious now that they were dates, just… obvious too late. “She didn’t say…” My voice felt tight, strangled in my throat, hard to push out words. I wanted to scream in frustration. I thought I’d moved past this—thought I’d learned how to say the things on my mind, how to be the things I wanted. “She didn’t say so…” was all I managed, and Emberlynn put a hand on my arm.

“She’s a delicate woman. More than she looks.”

“I know.” I shifted. “Just… when we were talking earlier, I said… said how…”

I trailed off, and an awkward silence settled over us. Eventually, Emberlynn picked the lizard back up off the shelf.

“Spit it out,” she said. “Or the lizard gets it.”

“You can’t do that.” I reached for the lizard, but she held it just out of reach. “Oh my god, give me back Jerome.”

“Jerome is a hostage now. Tell me what you’re saying.”

“You monster,” I huffed, folding my arms, looking away. “Okay, well, if you want to know, I told her that I’d meant it all those times I said I loved her. And what did she say? Absolutely nothing. What am I supposed to take away from that? So—so really, I don’t know why I’m bothering,” I said, my voice getting thick and hot now, words coming too fast to sound natural no matter how I tried. “Now put Jerome back on the shelf where he goes.”

“Hm.” She set Jerome back on the shelf where he went, and she looked out the window, the sill crowded with my junk. “I think what to take away from that is that she’s scared of being in love with you.”

“I’m gonna try that. Just ask people if they’re in love with me, and if they say no, it’s because they’re scared of how much they’re in love with me.”

She shoved me playfully. “Take this seriously, dammit. Isn’t it obvious? It’s because if she tells you she loves you, then she stays. And for some reason, she’s convinced she can’t stay.”

“I… I don’t know.”

“She didn’t come back for anything in Bayview. She was prepared to cut everything off and become a different person. But she came back for you. That means something.” She shrugged. “Means that she’s in conflict between her feelings for you and her need to get away. So looking at it that way, why wouldn’t she hide her real feelings?”

I shifted from one foot to the other, an awkward sensation churning in my gut. I couldn’t find words—everything slippery and hard to get my head around—when a knock came from the door, and I whipped my head to look.

“Oh my god, this is my bedroom. Who has the nerve to just walk into my house?”

“Literally, you of all people—” Emberlynn started, but I ignored her. Worse still, it was Aria’s voice from outside the door.

“I wonder,” Aria said. “Maybe you’ll forgive me if you know I brought cake.”

“Oh.” I dropped my arms, turning back to the door. “Aria, my favorite sister in the world, I am so sorry for my outburst. Please, do help yourself to, uh… putting the cake in the kitchen and leaving.”

She came into the bedroom, the asshole. “Hey,” she said with a soft smile. “Wanted to check in on you. You seem like you’re doing better.”

“I thought you were immobilized by your period right now and craving as much cheese as you could fit in your body.”

Emberlynn put her hands on her hips. “You were eavesdropping on Harper’s and my—”

Aria put a hand up. “I’m on a lot of painkillers right now. We don’t all collapse wailing to the heavens when we’re on our periods.”

Emberlynn looked away. “If you’re going to call out Paisley, you might as well not call me out at the same time… I’m your girlfriend.”

Aria smiled sweetly at her. “It’s not a problem when you’re doing it, sweetheart. It’s just weird when it’s Paisley slumped over our couch complaining she wants chocolate.”

“I don’t know why I talk to either of you,” I said, looking away. “Ugh, leave me be. I’m trying to get dressed for a dinner date. Actually—Ar, you might as well make yourself useful for something. Is this dress good?”

Aria gave me a once-over. “It’s a cute look. Pair it with a dark jacket or a coat, something large and a little shapeless, to contrast it. Especially if you get some wool or another contrasting texture… and those red heels from Bright Star. Small clutch.”

I folded my arms. “It’s the shoulder bag or bust.”

She put her hands up. “Okay, the shoulder bag then. Whatever makes you happy. Just don’t do the cross-body with that outfit.” She paused, giving me a careful look, a guarded smile on her lips. “I’m sure Harper will love it,” she said, and I swallowed, looking away.

“Ugh, you both. You’re putting so much pressure on me that I’m going to cry if she doesn’t…”

Emberlynn shrugged. “I think that’s healthy. To cry when you care about someone and they leave.”

Aria gestured, moving one hand lazily in the air. “I think that’s what happens when you love someone. You care. And I believe I may have said it once already that it makes you a little… uncool.”

I sighed. “Ar, where’s the cake?”

“I left it in the kitchen.”

“Great.” I pulled open the dresser drawer and tugged on a long, black wool coat, turning in the mirror to check the fit, and I slid my favorite bag up over one shoulder, and I picked up the red heels from Bright Star, tucking them into my bag. I walked past Emberlynn, and they realized my strategy too late—I heard Emberlynn’s voice strangled behind me as I threw open the window and climbed out, easing myself down to hang from the ledge, and I dropped down into the back garden, landed softly on the grass, and hoisted myself over the fence. I touched down barefoot on the path just as Gwen walked past, pausing and arching an eyebrow at me, her phone up to her ear.

“One second,” she said. “Paisley just dropped from the sky.” She lowered her phone. “Are you on the run from something dangerous?”

“Just my sister.” I knelt, pulling my heels on. “I probably lost her, though. She’s too dignified to climb walls.”

“Has too much common sense, more like. Seriously? Even when you’re in a dress? You were hospitalized yesterday.”

I stuck my tongue out. “I’ve got a date to get to. Um…” I finished getting my heels on, standing up and tugging my shoulder strap up higher. “Wish me luck, okay? If Harper leaves again, I, uh… I’m going to be insufferably sad for a while.”

She stared at me for a while before she relaxed into a small smile. “Good luck,” she said, and when a voice came from her phone, she gestured it in my direction. “Nancy says good luck, too.”

“What, why are you on the phone with Nancy?”

“She’s helping me organize the game night tomorrow. Ostensibly. Practically, she’s crowing about how she beat Ms. Connelly’s reading this month.” A voice chattered from the phone, and Gwen half-listened. “Yeah, yeah… it was in a complimentary way.” She covered up the microphone, glancing back at me. “She says you and Harper are good together. You know how she claims she’s a matchmaker.”

I scrunched up my face for a second before I relaxed, laughing nervously. “Well, I guess if Nance says so. Can’t disagree with the volleyball superstar.” I checked my phone. “Okay, I gotta bounce. I’ll bring Harps to game night tomorrow or die trying.”

I had a lift in my step as I rounded the corner, went down the street, and ducked close to the wall as a rumble came from overhead—distant thunder. I’d left my umbrella in my backpack, and God only knew where that thing was. But I got to the dark-red roof of Hinomoto, the Japanese steakhouse with a cute little garden out front and low lights that made Harper look like something from a dream in the soft, romantic glow, standing inside the antechamber, her hands in the pockets of her suit jacket. I paused for just a second looking at her, taking her in, and I wanted to kick myself.

It was so damn obvious I was in love with her. The way all my thoughts orbited around her, how it felt like I was only me when she was with me—like the sun had risen, and the world was bright.

If I’d realized it earlier, maybe she would have stayed.

And maybe she would have kept hiding everything about herself, like she had with Annabel. And she would have shrunk away more and more, like she did with Annabel, and eventually step away and leave after all.

I was gawking at her. I opened the door, stepped inside, and Harper glanced over at me and—I was such a sucker for that light that came into her eyes when she saw me.

“Hey,” she said, coming over to catch me at the door, reaching automatically to take my coat as I took it off. What a gentlewoman. I felt a little giggly. “You were able to make it okay? Still feeling all right?”

“Oh, yeah. I jumped out my bedroom window and climbed the fence.”

She faltered. “Paisley…”

“Aria was bugging me. But she did leave me a cake, so… we can have dessert together, too.”

She hung her head. “What is it going to take for you to be safe?”

I didn’t hesitate. “You staying here and letting me love you.”

“I…” She raked her fingers back through her hair, looking away, but she took my coat and turned back to the next door. “Let’s get inside. Our reservation was a minute ago.”

I went with her into the dining area, where Kim at the host’s stand beamed at both of us—we didn’t have to say a word, and she greeted us warmly, taking two menus and leading us through the dining floor and into the back, where I just knew Nancy’s son Kyle who ran the shop had gotten excited having Harper back and making a reservation here, because we’d scored the best table in the restaurant. It was walled off a little from everything else, by an octagonal window looking out on the courtyard, and I felt fluttery at the bouquet of roses on the table.

“You two sit down and make yourselves comfortable,” Kim said, setting our menus down. “Your waiter will be right with you.”

“Er…” Harper scratched her head, looking between me and the roses, before she sank into the seat. “I didn’t—”

“Mrs. Park probably delivered them here.” I sat down opposite her, just… taking in the way she looked over a bouquet of roses, across the table from me, in the gentle, low lights of the restaurant.

“I didn’t tell her about—”

“I mean, I mentioned it to like one person that you were getting me dinner here—just to say how sweet it was of you—and I guess word might have gotten around.”

She looked out the window. “How many people did you actually tell?”

“Uh, nine.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, yeah. Anders, too. So ten.”

“This was just that I wanted to make sure you eat—”

“Uh-huh. That’s what I told all ten of them.”

She sighed.

“Oh, I forgot I mentioned it to Connor too. Eleven.”

She gave me a tired smile. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

I looked out the window. “I changed a lot. We’ve been going over this.”

She laughed drily. “I guess so. I mean… you’re certainly a lot more upfront with your feelings now than you were. You…” She looked down. “You wouldn’t… tell me so readily that you…”

“That I love you.”

She raked her fingers back through her hair again.

“Nothing makes things clearer than losing something. You don’t realize what you’ve got till it’s gone. And, um…” I shifted, fussing with my menu, and my voice came out smaller. “And I like having you. A lot. I’m a little afraid of being in love, if I’m being totally honest, but if I only have so many opportunities to say it to your face, I’m going to climb onto every rooftop and scream it out to the heavens. Let everyone in Bayview know that I love you.”

She pursed her lips, looking down at her menu, just settling into the quiet, before she spoke in a small, distant whisper. “From you, that sounds like a credible threat.”

I winked. “A credible promise.”

“And… how many people have you already told?”

“Um…” I folded my hands, looking away. “Gee, that’s a question. Define told. Does it count if somebody talks about how I’m in love with you and I don’t question it?”

“I’m going to say yes.”

“Emberlynn, of course. She’s my ride-or-die. Aria, I guess. I mean, she’s my sister, sadly. Priscilla, because there’s no way I’d hide anything from her anyway. Kay already knew a while ago, so Gwen knew for sure, and since Gwen knows, Charlie knows. I told Annabel, because—you know, commiserating over having been sad about the same girl. Sam, because I figured he would forget about it anyway, but he didn’t, and then he told Jenna, too. Oliver kept bugging me about it, so him too, so his maybe-maybe-not boyfriend too, obviously. Hazel—”

“Who doesn’t know?”

I laughed awkwardly. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say no one.”

She pursed her lips. I shifted.

“If you’re mad at me over that, I’m gonna need you to say it upfront.”

“Just…” She hugged herself, looking down. “Why… me?”

I fussed with my hair, a nervous energy bouncing around in my chest. “I mean, why me? You, um… however you feel about me now, you cared about me before, didn’t you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” She scratched the back of her head, turning back to the window—looking anywhere and everywhere except at me.

“Love is just like that, isn’t it? All I know is that you make me happy, and, um… and I like the person I am when I’m with you. And I like the things that we do together. And I like everything about you. That’s the only thing that matters, right?”

“Bold words, as the one who never stopped complaining about how I’m the worst—”

“Please. You know that’s how I say I love you.”

She was quiet until the waiter came around, and she placed her order picking something at random off the menu in a low voice, still not quite lifting her gaze above the table. Once the waiter left, bringing us back to the tense, nervous silence that hung over us, Harper looked away with a tired sigh.

“I guess it is,” she said, her voice low. “The only thing that matters.”

“Even the things that drive me up the wall a little bit. They’re a part of who you are. And I like you—in all of who you are.”

“But we change. You change. I change. What if—” She stopped, pursing her lips, taking a long breath, and she let it out slowly and shakily through her nose. “What if we’re all… different people… from who we were ten years ago? Five years ago? Sometimes you’re a different person from who you were… yesterday. Sometimes when something happens…”

I folded my hands on the table. “Then maybe you don’t love each other in the same way anymore. Maybe you’ve been married for twenty years and something happens and it changes everything, and you don’t love each other anymore, and you go your separate ways. But I don’t think that means those twenty years went to waste. You don’t need to, like… chart out a course for your life and figure it out beforehand and then stick to it.”

She shifted, a hundred different emotions warring on her face. I decided to go for it.

“Not even if you’re doing it for someone else’s sake.”

She tightened her expression, giving me that sharp, pained look where I wanted to take everything back and make it all better, but—but I needed to say this. She needed to hear it. And what did I have to lose? If I didn’t put it all on the line now, I’d never see her again.

She swallowed, shakily, before she said, “It’s one thing to say it in theory…”

“Would you want someone else to do that for you?”

She winced. The silence settled heavy over us again, but I didn’t back down—sat there in the quiet and turned my gaze out to where rain droplets started to splash across the broad leaves of the dark plants, and I let the silence brew until Harper spoke, just a breath.

“I… it… it should have been me, though.” She closed her eyes, squeezing her hands on the tabletop. “That’s the problem. It was… it was supposed to be me.”

“And you think she’d have said the same thing?” I said, and she snorted, her voice thick.

“Probably. The situation was pretty cut and dry.”

I paused. “Harper… what happened?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, turning back to the window. “I don’t want to—”

“You can trust me. It’s always been you and me.”

She sucked in a long, sharp breath, letting it out slowly, shakily, before she nodded, once. “It—it has. Somehow or other, I guess so. Just… I don’t… are you sure you want to? You might hate me for it.”

I didn’t think anything in the world could make me hate her. “I want to hear it.”

She pursed her lips, squeezing her eyes shut, and she held there, pulled taut, for a long time before she managed words. “Okay. I’ll give you the short version. She was sick. Chronic… condition. Needed medication on standby. But something went wrong with her backup. Don’t ask what. I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. She—” She raked her fingers over her face, her voice getting thicker. “It was just the two of us when she had an episode. Mother didn’t look after us very much—wasn’t really with it. No one else in the picture. We had to go out to the specialist to get her emergency medicine, and I… I didn’t go. Said I wasn’t going out running in the rain and that she seemed fine to drive. I just didn’t want to. That’s all it fucking was. Just couldn’t be fucking bothered—”

“Harper.” I put a hand on hers, reaching across the table and stilling her. She tensed, looking at me like a cornered animal, and I smiled, softly. “Breathe, okay?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out shakily, and then a second one, slower. She closed her eyes, continuing in a slower, quieter voice. “Our mother forgot I existed half the time. Like I said, she wasn’t… with it, and she was focused on keeping… my sister alive. So I resented her. And genuinely, it didn’t seem like it was that severe an episode, so I just… just told her to go… go take care of it herself.”

“And she didn’t make it back,” I said, softly. She shook her head.

“It got worse as it went untreated. What do you know? Almost like that’s how it fucking works and that’s what happens every time. Ended up in a car accident and before the paramedics could make it, she just… she…” She shrugged, looking out the window, trying to look unbothered. “Guess I just figured if one of us should have died out on those roads, it should have been me. But here I am.”

“I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be. It’s my fault.”

I frowned. “You were a kid. Sounded like you were taking care of your sister more than your mom was. It’s not like you were the only one with any responsibility.”

She shrugged, going for casual, offhand. She didn’t quite make it. I’d never seen the poor girl like this before—this haunted look on her face said she hadn’t faced these particular ghosts probably ever since it happened. “Hiding from my responsibility already killed one person. I’m not doing it again. I let her die because I didn’t feel like going out in the rain. How’s that for something to like about me?”

“You could have gone and not made it in time. You were just a kid and it wasn’t even your medicine and you weren’t even supposed to be getting another prescription pickup, so maybe you wouldn’t have even been able to get the right medicine or the right dosage. You should have been able to call an ambulance or at least count on your mother, and without that, you had a situation with no right answer. You could have tried to save her until you were blue in the face and—”

“And at least then I’d go on knowing I tried. It’s just… I wish…” She looked down, squeezing her eyes shut. “I wish I had. Tried. Something. Anything.”

I paused. “Out of curiosity, how many times did you already have to take part in taking care of her and keeping her well before this?”

She turned to the window, shrugging.

“I’m going to imagine that means it was a lot. You were just a kid. You’d make a mistake eventually.”

“You’re awfully stubborn,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “I let an innocent girl die. You were supposed to…”

“Hate you?”

She didn’t say anything. I sat up straighter as the waiter’s footsteps came back from behind me, stepping around the corner and setting down our food. I chatted enough for the both of us—he’d attended the First International Paisley Foosball Tournament I’d put on last month, which was a relief somebody came because for being an international tournament it sure only had one small town participating—and I got to chatter and ask him about his DJing career he was still trying to get to take off.

More importantly, Harper needed a break. And she looked like the memory of it was needling at her brain a little less once the waiter left, our food set down in front of us, a tall Sapporo beer for each of us. Harper’s favorite. Because she deserved that.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I said, and she sighed.

“I shouldn’t have dumped all of that… please don’t tell anybody.”

“Of course I won’t. But I’m glad you told me. And…”

And what? What was I supposed to say? Tell her that no amount of running herself ragged trying to do more, more, more was ever going to bring Lindsay back? That she didn’t owe the universe a blood debt she had to pay back by working herself to death? That she still deserved to be loved even with her bruised parts?

Of course I could have said all of that. But what difference would it have made just saying that?

Besides, it wasn’t very Paisley. And being with Harper made me realize I kind of liked Paisley as I was her—a lot.

“And by the way, now that I have you trapped with some food, do you want me to tell you what the letter was?” I said lightly. “Because it’s actually addressed to you. Annabel just told me to find a time to read it for you when you can’t run away.”

“Son of a—” She raked her fingers back through her hair. “Oh, that’s just like her. Just like you, too.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, because I want you to compliment me. In case that wasn’t already established.”

“I think it may have been…” She sighed, dropping her arms by her sides. “I never was able to win against you, Pais. Fine. Let’s hear it.”