When We're Thirty

by Casey Dembowski

  “So, I didn’t get the full story last time,” her dad said with a hint of sarcasm that it was probably too soon for. “How did you two end up at the altar?”

  She exchanged a look with Will and wondered briefly what would happen if they told the whole truth. “I’ll let Will take this one,” she said instead.

  Will didn’t miss a beat. He walked through the story they’d crafted together, but this time, it was sprinkled with truths from their marriage—how they crashed a wedding on their honeymoon, how he’d taken them to a laundromat on a date because of some silly quip she’d made. She watched them fall in love through his eyes. It was beautiful, it was theirs, and it was real.

  “What made you say yes?” her dad asked, returning his full attention to Hannah.

  “She liked my butt,” Will said before Hannah could answer.

  She shoved him, a blush heating her cheeks. “He was sweet, and we were in love.”

  “My daughter, the hopeless romantic? I never thought I’d see the day.” He held a hand mockingly to his heart. “Charlanie rubbed off on you.”

  “You too?” Will exclaimed with a laugh.

  “It’s just so damn catchy.”

  Hannah didn’t know how to feel about her dad’s statement. There was no malice in it, but she had never been cold or jaded. In fact, she’d put in a great amount of effort to not let any of her past relationships taint her feelings on love. No matter how sideways things with Brian had gone, it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Sometimes you picked wrong. And sometimes you got Will. Maybe one had to happen before the other.

  She listened to Will and her dad talk about work, football, and some new phone that was supposed to come out next month. They were a good fit. Her dad would enjoy having someone to watch sports with—someone who cared, at least. Hannah placated him, but half of the time, she had no idea which team had the ball. The longer they talked, the more relaxed she felt. This was how she’d imagined it.

  “How’s your knee doing?” her father asked as they were finishing up their entrées.

  “Surprisingly well! Madison—Will’s brother’s fiancée—is my physical therapist, and”—she pushed her leg out from under the table—“I can straighten it and everything.”

  “Wow,” Will and her dad said at the same time.

  “I have an appointment with an orthopedist next week, and then I’ll know if I need surgery or not.”

  “Hopefully not,” Will said, squeezing her hand. “Madison is good at what she does, and Hannah has been diligent about doing all her exercises at home.”

  “Madison kind of threatened my life, but yeah. I’m looking forward to getting back out there,” she said. “Will’s a runner, and he’s been totally rubbing it in my face that he can go for runs every day.”

  Will’s eyes widened, and his gaze swiveled to her father. “I swear I have done no such thing.”

  Her father’s laugh filled the restaurant. “You two are fun. You know, the New Jersey half marathon is in April. Perhaps the Abbotts and Thornes can team up.”

  The memory of runner’s high coursed through her. Was that even a possibility? Back on the pavement by April? They’d have to add Daniel to the team. She’d be so outpaced. But maybe. “Team Thabbott!”

  Her father waved his hand in front of his face as if wafting away a bad smell. “Oh no, no, honey. That’s just awful.”

  Chapter 36

  Hannah

  Hannah redialed Riley for the third time. Riley was going to be so annoyed when she picked up, but that was what she got for scheduling meetings unannounced while on maternity leave.

  “Why do we have a two o’clock scheduled for today?” Hannah asked when Riley finally answered, her tone calmer than expected.

  “Because we need to... hold on.” Hannah could hear the high-pitched and aspirational sounds of a Disney movie playing in the background as Riley shuffled the phone around. “Sorry, Jo is being needy.”

  “Is there any other way for an eight-week-old to be?”

  “Yes,” Riley said amidst more shuffling. “Anyway, we need to talk, so you’re coming to me at two.”

  “You’re on maternity leave.”

  “Which is why you are coming to my house.”

  “That’s all I get?” Hannah asked.

  Much to her disbelief, Riley had stayed away during this maternity leave. With Cecilia, she’d been in the office constantly, baby strapped to her chest in one of those weird wrap things. She couldn’t stand to be home or away from her first baby. But the bigger, more experienced staff seemed to help keep her at home this time.

  “See you at two!”

  Hannah ended the call, staring at her phone incredulously. What could this possibly be about? Godmother duties, a fatal flaw in the latest issue, or health insurance finally coming through? No—Riley could email about all that. Hannah would have to worry about it later—and she’d have plenty of time while she sat in an MRI machine. Today was the day. Riley had better hope for good news if she was about to drop a bomb.

  Hannah stared up at the hospital towering over the East River. She hadn’t been there since the days following her accident. The sight of the building filled her with trepidation. What if the news was bad and time made everything worse? She shook her head. This was why she married Will. She couldn’t lose more time. New Jersey half in April. Team Thabbott. She kept those thoughts in her mind. Whatever the outcome, she needed a goal.

  “Hannah!”

  She turned at the sound of Daniel’s voice. Will hadn’t been sure about Daniel’s schedule, but there he was, scrubs and all. At least they weren’t blood splattered.

  “Ready?” he asked, enveloping her in a hug.

  It still amazed her how quickly Daniel had taken her into the fold. Jon was warm but still distant. Not that she expected anything else—even in a normal situation, it had only been a few months. But Daniel seemed genuinely excited by her existence.

  “As I’ll ever be,” she said, wishing again that she hadn’t told Will she’d be fine on her own.

  “Listen,” he said as they entered the hospital through the main entrance. So far, it was much more welcoming than the emergency room—less chaotic and not so frightening. “I know my brother is trapped in some god-awful meeting right now, so I was thinking...”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He laughed. “I don’t doubt that, but if you’ll have me, I’d love to accompany you.”

  “Doing an ortho rotation?” She leaned against the rail in the elevator, watching the numbers go up. There would be no getting rid of him, but a good ribbing never hurt anyone.

  “If it makes you feel better about it, then absolutely.”

  Part of her wanted to do this on her own. That was why she’d shooed away both Will and Kate’s offers to go with her. Maybe she wanted the opportunity to take it in by herself—to be able to have whatever her reaction was going to be without an audience. Maybe she wanted the chance to lie about whatever the doctor said. Probably both.

  But after an hour of scans, Hannah was glad Daniel had agreed to stay with her while she waited for the doctor. She would be mighty bored otherwise and probably panicking.

  “Tell me what you saw on the scan.” Hannah lay back on the exam table, the paper crinkling under her weight.

  Daniel sighed from his perch on the stiff plastic guest chair in the corner. “I’m no expert, but your meniscus is still torn.”

  “Fuck.” Not that she hadn’t been expecting to hear that.

  “It didn’t look that bad to me, but let’s see what Dr. Annabelle has to say.”

  “Thank you for staying with me.” She meant it wholeheartedly. Daniel had less time off than the rest of the Thornes, and he was spending it with his brother’s wife in the hospital where he already spent the majority of his days.

  “That’s what you do for family...”

  Hannah couldn’t see his face from where he was sitting, but the end of the sentence had started to trail off, and the silence
that followed was heavy with racing thoughts.

  She sighed. “Just say it.”

  “What?” he asked with a short, nervous laugh.

  “I can hear you thinking all the way over here,” she said, closing her eyes for the briefest of moments.

  “Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “I just wanted to thank you, really.”

  She sat up too quickly, and all the blood fled from her head. She kept her eyes closed until her equilibrium returned. When she opened them, Daniel stared back at her, an amused expression on his face.

  “Thank me?” she said after another moment.

  “Listen, I don’t know why you and Will got married. Maybe it was because you needed this appointment.” He held up his hand as she started to protest. “I was there after everything happened. There is no way he met you and fell in love the way you two said. When you supposedly ran into each other, Will was so drunk every day he could hardly function.”

  There was no proper response to that, so she remained silent, lacing and unlacing her fingers. She knew things had been bad, but hearing it outright from someone besides Will made her heart ache for him.

  “I don’t need to know why,” Daniel said, looking up at her. “That’s between you and Will. But whatever your reasons, you make him happy. And in a real way. You’ve brought him back to us.”

  “He makes me happy too,” she said, her cheeks heating up to what had to be a flaming red.

  “I can see that,” he said warmly.

  The door to the exam room opened, and Dr. Annabelle swept into the office. And he was younger than she expected for someone who Daniel called his mentor. He was most likely in his midforties, dark skinned, with close-cropped hair and a verifiable goatee. A gold wedding band gleamed on his left ring finger every time he flipped a page in her chart.

  “I was able to get ahold of your old scans,” he said, finally looking up at her. His smile was friendly and comforting. She took that as a good sign. Her old doctors had been all serious faces and grimaces.

  He held up the scan she had memorized after the accident. “What do you see, Dr. Thorne?”

  “Grade two, maybe three.” Daniel stood and pointed at a spot on the scan. “I would’ve recommended a closer look with the possibility of surgery.”

  She looked between the two of them, waiting for the bad news to drop. Surgery would get her back on her feet in the long-term. It would also prohibit her from attending concerts for the foreseeable future. She had avoided acknowledging that for too long.

  “This is your scan from today,” he said, holding it up.

  Her breath caught in her chest. Even to her untrained eye, it looked better—not healed, but the tear wasn’t as defined. She’d felt the difference in her time with Madison but assumed it was simply because she was working it out consistently rather than breaking out her TheraBand when it rained.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow, indeed, Ms. Abbott,” Dr. Annabelle said with another smile. “Dr. Thorne tells me you’ve been working with a physical therapist?”

  Hannah nodded. “For over two months now.”

  “Let’s continue that,” he said, typing something into the tablet hidden under her chart. “But pending any further injury, I think your knee will heal itself with proper rehabilitation.”

  “So I don’t need surgery?”

  “Tentatively, no. I’m comfortable, if you are, with you continuing to work with your PT, and we can revisit this in three months.”

  Hannah’s heart raced. She didn’t need surgery. At least not yet. “Can I run?”

  He paused for a moment then nodded. “I wouldn’t run a marathon or even a 10K, but yes, if you take it easy, I think you can work a run or two into your weekly routine. Dr. Thorne can go into further details with you.”

  Daniel put a hand on her shoulder once Dr. Annabelle left the room. “We’ll have you out on our Saturday-morning run in no time.”

  She grinned. “Will said no girls allowed.”

  “True, girls have cooties,” Daniel said, cringing at her.

  She poked him. “Oops, now you do too.”

  RILEY, DANNY, AND THE girls lived in a Park Slope brownstone. It was just big enough for the four of them if Cecilia and Jo shared a room. Riley had talked about upgrading, but that would mean moving to the suburbs, and they were city dwellers through and through. At least that’s how Hannah always imagined them. Though even household meetings in Westchester would be preferable to making the trek to Brooklyn.

  She pulled a note off the door of the brownstone. If you ring the doorbell and wake the baby, I will kill you.

  Hopefully, this was intended for Hannah and not some poor, unsuspecting deliveryman. The knob turned easily. She taped the note back to the door and peeked around the block. There was no sign of a delivery truck of any type. Hannah did not want to be in the house if someone rang that bell, especially if she was the one who took the note down. She’d experienced Riley during the newborn phase, and now she had a toddler as well. The click of the door was barely audible, but Riley stuck her head out of her office, which was right off the front hall and far away from Jo’s room.

  “Sorry for the death threat,” Riley said. “We’ve got those damn cable salesmen wandering around. Yesterday, they rang the bell three times.”

  “That’s persistent.” Hannah fell back onto the couch and tucked her feet up under her.

  “So, is surgery in your future?” Riley asked, glancing from Hannah’s knee to her face.

  “Definitely not in the next three months,” Hannah said, still not quite believing it. She knew her expression must match all the grinning emojis in her texts from Will, Kate, and Madison. “After everything, my knee has started to heal.”

  “That’s amazing. And how’s married life?”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes at her boss. “We’re great, but please tell me you didn’t make me come all the way to Brooklyn so we could talk guys.”

  “All that banter and no time for chitchat.” Riley shook her head. “I have some news.”

  Hannah tried to mentally calculate if it was even possible for Riley to be pregnant again, but she knew little to nothing of Irish twins except that they existed.

  “Stop trying to do math you don’t understand,” Riley said with a laugh. Hannah really needed a better poker face. It was seriously amazing no one important had figured out about the pact. “It’s magazine news.”

  “Magazine news you couldn’t tell me about over FaceTime?”

  Riley swiveled her chair until she was facing Hannah. The chair gave her a bit of extra height, and Hannah sat straighter to try and match it. Whatever this news was, it was big. And for Riley to have to bring her here, it was a game changer.

  “We’ve received funding for the Boston edition,” Riley said without further preamble. “It’ll start with just a few city-specific pieces as an inset and be fluffed with our bigger features from the other issues, much like how New York started.”

  “That’s huge!” The higher-ups had been working on Boston for so long, and it was finally here. “Where did they find the money?”

  “The magazine received an anonymous donation last month specifically designated to expansion,” she said, flipping through some paperwork. “It’s going to be threadbare—just an editor and one or two interns. The idea is to cover as much as possible so we have enough material for a few issues while we’re staffing up.”

  “Are they sending Nate out?” Hannah asked, thinking of the managing editor of the Los Angeles edition, who oversaw all expansion efforts with Riley. Riley would never leave her girls for an extended period of time.

  “No,” she said plainly. “Nate and I discussed it, and we’d like for you to head up the effort.”

  “What?” She hadn’t meant to say it—not like that. But there it was. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, wanting, and needing. The chance to make a real change, to shape her career and the direction of Deafening Silence, and to become he
r own version of, well, Riley.

  “You heard me.”

  Several iterations of the word “yes” ricocheted her around her mind, but slowly, her brain recovered from the shock of the offer. How could she move to Boston? It wasn’t her and Binx against the world anymore. There was Will, who she had committed to for at least a year, who needed her as she needed him and who loved her. Could she ask this of him?

  “How long is the assignment?”

  “A little under two months to start,” Riley said, her eyes searching Hannah’s. “Just long enough to get everything set up and running while we find a managing editor.”

  Two months in Boston. It was the chance of a lifetime. Will would do this for her.

  “We’ll pay to relocate you, Will, and Binx for that period.” She scanned the notes in front of her. “Nate’s working on finalizing a sublet.”

  “When would I have to leave?” Hannah asked, thinking of the long weekend in the Hamptons, the Wilderness concert next week, and the zillion wedding tasks Madison had added to her calendar.

  “If Nate had his way, you’d leave tonight,” she said. “But I know you’re not going to miss the Wilderness show, and I’m sure there are things to figure out. So, first thing Wednesday morning?”

  It was Thursday. How could she move her whole life in six days? A promotion hadn’t even been on her radar, especially not one that included moving out of the state.

  “Hannah?” Riley stared down at her with a pained expression. She knew the gravity of this news and the damage it could do—to both Deafening and Hannah’s marriage—if not handled properly.

  “I don’t know, Riley.” Hannah clasped her hands together. “I have to talk to Will, and I just don’t know.”

  Riley placed her hand on top of Hannah’s. “That’s a perfectly acceptable answer.”

  Chapter 37

  Will

  Will glared at the stack of reports littering the coffee table. He promised to be home for dinner, but he couldn’t drop everything either. He could’ve pawned all this off on the junior staff—that was literally why they existed. But after his misstep with his last big case, he needed to do his own work. That meant reading the reports and not just the note summaries.