“Can’t believe he’s coming all the way from Colorado.”
Thomas did his best to maintain a neutral face. “Well, uh, yeah. It helped that you paid his airfare.”
Sam rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Cha-ching! Happy to. Guava Media is rolling in some mad cash thanks to you kids.”
He walked across the room and surveyed the red table. Maggie had set it earlier in the afternoon. There were six place settings, plus one. At the seventh stood an elegant candle, surrounded by white roses. “What’s this?”
“A reminder that our mom is with us, tonight,” Thomas explained. “Maggie suggested it.”
“Spooky.” Sam wiggled his fingers in the air à la Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. The resemblance hit Thomas like a slap. So that’s who Sam Tamblin reminded him of! He’d been trying to figure it out for months.
“No Brynn, huh? Couldn’t get her to come? I’ve been calling her house 25-8 for days but think she might be screening my calls.”
25-8? Was that Sam’s exaggerated version of 24-7? Thomas couldn’t wait for the moment he didn’t have to waste any more brain cells trying to sort out Sam Tamblin’s nonsense. He wiped his palms on his pants and his brain flashed to all the normal things other teenagers were doing right now. He knew Pete and Ro were in Nico’s basement blasting sand mongrels because they’d been texting him their scores all day. Nadine was at the DMV taking her driver’s test.
Thomas was running with the cross-country team now that school had started. He’d given Nico a few weeks of the silent treatment, and eventually the kid wizened up enough to focus on other targets. And anyway, having to tolerate a few stupid Nico comments wasn’t a good enough reason to quit running. One summer off the pavement had been enough to teach Thomas that.
Since the start of the season, Thomas’d had one first-place finish, after Jack had agreed to come to Minneapolis to meet them. The adrenaline from the news had given him wings for days. The next week, though, he dropped to fourth place. That race he spent criticizing himself, convinced that every footfall was wrong, every breath was out of sync with his pace, that a real runner wouldn’t make the mistakes he made.
Except, he also knew better than to give up this time.
“You’ve created a whole picture in your head you don’t even know is true.” Savannah was with him for vanilla shakes at Burger Mania that night. Pete and Ro were out with the team celebrating, but she’d driven to the finish line and waited for Thomas to cross. “Did you even ask Jack if he was a runner?”
“No. I didn’t get the chance.”
“Oh, then of course it’s totally logical to construct a world in which you’re a complete disappointment to him.”
“Shut up, Van.” He hip-checked her, landing the shot more at elbow range.
“Watch it.” She took a long pull on her straw, then flicked her head toward the parking lot.
Thomas obliged, walking in the direction of the car. “Don’t you ever wonder, though, if he’s going to like us?”
“Who, me?” She gave him a smug look. “Why would I worry?”
“Oh right, I forgot. You’re invincible.”
“Mmm.” Savannah took another long pull. “So invincible, even Trigg doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” Trigg and Savannah were on the outs now that Trigg was dating Kyle Larson. “You know he’s a total pothead, right?”
She laughed. “We’re not fighting over Kyle Larson. We’re fighting because I sent her a couple of bitchy texts. But good bitchy, though. Not Carrie Westlund bitchy.”
Thomas smirked. “There’s a difference?”
“Of course. The difference is, I finally decided to quit letting people tell me what to do. And that’s what I told Trigg. It’s okay to be bitchy if you’re doing it to stick up for yourself.”
“Uh-huh.” Thomas didn’t have the energy to try to understand.
“You’re the one who’s always telling me to speak for myself.” Savannah opened her car door and paused before getting in. “Anyway, let’s go pick up Nadine. I told her we’d meet up when you were done.”
Now, here they were. The moment of reckoning. If only Sam Tamblin knew that the reckoning wasn’t theirs, it was for him. After all, Thomas and Savannah had already met Jack. And he was amazing.
Fifty-Two
Savannah
Sitting there at the red table, surrounded by people who loved her mom, Savannah closed her eyes and let the moments fall around her like rain. Onto her shoulders, her hair, her hands. Into her skin and her pores. Into her deepest, most Savannah self. She didn’t want to forget a single second.
“I hung up the phone after our first conversation and cried like a baby.” Their mom’s friend Elise sat across the table, next to her friend Kristen. Elise had been dabbing her eyes with her napkin all evening. “I kept thinking What if these were my kids? I’d always felt so sad that Bess died. That you lost her so young. But I don’t think it really struck me until that day. These are big questions, and you’re on your own.”
Elise wiped her nose and whipped around, turning to Maggie. “I don’t mean—”
“No, no.” Maggie held up her hand. “My sentiments exactly.”
Sam Tamblin, at the soundboard wearing fat black studio headphones, gave the moment a thumbs-up.
Dinner was nearly over. Chef Bart had just cleared the cheese boards and Nadine was handing out dishes of sorbet. Earlier, she and Savannah had celebrated Nadine’s successful driver’s test with sample bowls. Chocolate mint. Their mom would have loved it.
Savannah surveyed the faces around the dining room table, her heart full and her head torn, all at once. She’d just spent an entire dinner listening to stories about her mom and she didn’t want it to end. They did, however, have one last important item of business to attend to.
“Remember that awful batik wall hanging Bess kept in her apartment?” Elise sniffled, laughing through tears. “It looked ridiculous—all orange and black. So un-Bess. I always thought she liked it because it confused people. Everyone expected her to act like an uptight rich girl, but then they’d walk into her apartment and be like What is that?”
Kristen covered her face with her hand and howled with laughter. “That’s not why Bess kept that wall hanging! There were pockets on the back. It’s where she stashed her—” She flashed eyes at Savannah and Thomas, catching herself. “Never mind.”
Savannah and Thomas both answered her with knowing smirks.
“Your mother was a teeny bit of a rebel,” said Kristen. “But she was brilliant, too. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Thomas assured her. “Maggie reminds us every day.”
“About the brilliant part,” Savannah clarified. “We’re just starting to learn about the rebel part.” She made a mental note. Someday she ought to write a book titled Badass Bess. Maybe she could even make it a children’s book. Little girls needed more role models.
Maggie cleared her throat, more loudly than necessary. “So, Abe,” she said. “Tell us what’s new in Colorado.”
Sam Tamblin nodded wildly from beneath his headphones and threw her a thumbs-up.
“Uh, well—” Abe started. Two words was about the extent of what the poor man had said all night. Nobody had thrown many questions at him, but Savannah knew they were going to have to get around to it eventually.
She prompted, “Hired any handsome bartenders in Breckenridge lately?”
The guy’s whole face flushed bright red. “Heh. Well. Hmm.” He brought his hand to his chin, striking The Thinker pose.
Thomas switched tack, turning back to Kristen and Elise. “It’s a shame Brynn couldn’t join us tonight. Did she talk to you guys about why?”
“Actually...” Kristen caught Elise’s eye. They shared a second of mental simpatico, and Elise picked up where Kristen had left off.
“She’s keeping a low profile these days. Not doing any more interviews, even.”
“Yeah,” Kristen continued. “She never could understand how those radio shows all started calling so quickly.”
“Almost overnight, wouldn’t you say, Kristen?”
“Yes, Elise. I would. So unexpectedly sudden.”
The entire table turned and looked at Sam Tamblin. He grinned, then made a rolling motion with his hand. Keep going.
Savannah closed her eyes again. Don’t forget even a second of this.
“Wow,” Thomas went on. “Must have been so strange for Brynn to get sucked into our controversy like she did.”
“Oh certainly.” Elise nodded with keen interest. “She’s always had strong opinions, of course. But she’d never even heard of those radio shows.”
“And she’s not even on social media,” added Kristen. “Not Facebook.”
“Nope,” Elise confirmed. “Not on Twitter or Instagram.”
There was a lull in the conversation and Savannah looked to see if Sam Tamblin was picking up on any of this. But he was playing with the knobs and dials on Thomas’s soundboard.
“No idea where the radio programs got her name?” Savannah couldn’t believe Sam wasn’t picking up on this. Her voice was practically dripping with innuendo.
“Nope,” answered Elise. “It’s just the most confounding mystery.”
And again, the six faces at the red table all turned to look at Sam Tamblin.
What? he mouthed.
Maggie couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mr. Tamblin. Do you honestly mean to be so dense?”
Sam made repeated cutting motions at his throat and pointed to the soundboard. He wanted Maggie to limit her conversation to the people at the table. To quit talking. Even though, Savannah could say with one hundred percent certainty that nobody at the table actually wanted Maggie to quit talking at all.
Maggie ignored Sam’s admonitions. “In case it has managed to escape your attention, Mr. Tamblin, we are well aware of what you’ve been up to.” She began to tick items off on her fingers. “The fake Twitter accounts. The bots.”
She paused, as if waiting for Sam to catch on, but he had his face so close to Thomas’s soundboard he may as well have been sniffing it.
“We got a call from Saj.” Maggie ticked off another finger. “Certainly, you remember the Guava Media publicist. The one you fired on our behalf? Even though, we now quite clearly know that you masterminded the whole Eaton Holmes sabotage yourself.”
At this, she had him. Sam turned and gave Maggie a look so barren of emotion it almost made Savannah want to cry. What was wrong with him?
“So, what, you’re disappointed the podcast caught fire?” Sam said coldly. “Disappointed the kids’ father is in the kitchen right now, waiting to meet them?”
“Ha!” Savannah couldn’t contain herself. Thomas shot her a look and his eyes screamed WAIT.
Savannah crossed her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. Thomas was right. This was just getting good.
Maggie continued, undeterred and impressively zen, given the moment Savannah knew was about to unfold. “Have you actually met Jack Thorson, Mr. Tamblin?”
“Of course!” Sam spat. “Whad’you think, I’m a complete moron?”
Savannah squeezed her arms tight across her chest. Do not spoil it. Do NOT, Savannah.
“What,” Maggie asked Sam, “does he look like?”
The room went silent. Savannah couldn’t even hear herself breathe. And she certainly wasn’t going to open her eyes to see what was happening, given how close she was to losing it this very second.
“He’s—” Sam started. “You know. He’s like, a guy. Like an older version of Thomas.”
“Yes, Mr. Tamblin!” Maggie sounded like she was talking to a kindergartner, even though she kept calling him mister. “He does. It’s just astounding how much they look alike. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s what I said, right?”
“Oh, forgive me. That is what you said, isn’t it?” Maggie paused for a second. Savannah, against her better judgment, peeked out of one eye. Thomas was smiling directly at Sam.
Abe’s mouth was cemented shut.
“I’m so thrilled with the results Thomas’s orthodontist was able to achieve. The gap in his front teeth measured three-eighths of an inch wide before we fixed it. But just look at him now—would you even know he’d ever had it.”
Oh, this was just too good. Maggie’d always said she was good at this—luring fools into unfriendly waters, she’d called it. But Thomas and Savannah had never really seen her do it this well. Never, ever like this. At last, Savannah let herself open both eyes.
Thomas flashed Sam Tamblin a bright, white smile.
“Yeah,” Sam confirmed. “Looks great, T. Totally impressive orthodontia.”
Thomas grinned and nodded.
No one said a word.
Until Maggie said, “Abe? We’re just so thrilled to have you with us tonight. What an absolute honor to meet you.”
Abe turned to Maggie and smiled. A giant, gap-toothed smile that filled his whole face.
“Oh!” Maggie clapped her hands together like a little girl. “What a lovely smile you have, yourself, Abe. Why don’t you show the table? Yes, please. Show everyone!”
Abe smiled for the whole table. For at least a whole minute.
Sam Tamblin sat. Not moving. He saw. His face wasn’t in the knobs of the soundboard. He was looking. He just didn’t want to admit that he’d been had.
Even so, Maggie gave him a chance to respond.
All six of them waited, all eyes on Sam Tamblin. And Sam, predictably, sat in cowardly silence.
“You, Mr. Tamblin, are a liar,” Maggie said. “Jack’s sitting right here.” She motioned toward the man they’d been calling Abe all evening. “Right here. And you didn’t even notice, yet you claimed to have met him. Even worse, you thought we actually believed your lies. The lies you just did such a wonderful job of recording for us.” She pointed to the soundboard.
“You’re crazy, lady!” Sam Tamblin stood up and threw his headphones to the floor. “I don’t have to stay here and take this, you know!”
Maggie tossed her arms in the air, triumphant at last. “Marvelous! I’ll show you out!”
She crossed the dining room toward the front door. Only, she didn’t see the cord for the boom mic snaking along the floor at her feet. She hooked it with the heel of her shoe, tripped and fell, all arms and legs in the air.
She hit the buffet on the way down with a sickening sound—the same indestructible, wrought iron table their grandfather had bought for her on their first trip to Italy. She didn’t move.
“Maggie!” Thomas and Savannah shot out of their seats. Kristen and Elise, too. Chef Bart and Nadine ran in from the kitchen.
“Are you all right? Can you speak?”
Maggie was silent. Her eyes were open, locked in pain and shock, but they didn’t move. No part of her moved.
“Maggie?” Savannah reached for her grandmother’s hand. She wanted to touch her, to let her know they were there. That Maggie wasn’t alone. Savannah reached out—and froze.
Maggie had closed her eyes.
“Thomas!” Savannah screamed. “Someone call an ambulance!”
“Already on its way!” Chef Bart stood next to Savannah, his phone to his ear. “She tripped and hit the buffet on her way down,” he said. “Yes, her eyes are open. Or, they were. Um, I—I don’t know. Let me check—
“Where is the pain? In your chest? Your head?”
Maggie groaned. “My arm. I think I broke my arm!”
Chef Bart relayed the information to the person on the other end of the line. “Don’t move, Maggie,” he told her. “Ambulance is three minutes away.”
Sa
vannah sank to her knees at Maggie’s side. “Oh my god, Maggie! You scared me.”
Maggie grimaced, trying to catch her breath after her outburst. “Sorry, love. Not what I’d planned, obviously.”
Thomas knelt down next to them. “Ambulance is almost here, Maggie. I can hear the sirens.”
She gave him a weak smile.
Savannah could hear the sirens now, too. “We’ll follow you in the car,” she said. “Is there anything you need me to bring?”
“No,” Maggie said, wincing. Every breath seemed to bring her pain. “Just don’t forget Jack.”
Savannah laughed. Couldn’t stop herself. “If we haven’t scared him away yet.”
The ambulance pulled up outside the house and Chef Bart ran to the front door, ushering in the EMTs and all their equipment. Savannah and Thomas got out of their way, clearing a path to Maggie. Nadine, too, began to shove chairs aside in order to make more room for the EMTs to work.
Sam Tamblin flew through the front door and sprinted down the sidewalk to his car.
But Savannah also saw Jack. He hadn’t fled, despite Maggie’s cries, despite the sirens. Despite Sam Tamblin’s ham-fisted meddling. And Thomas’s secrets. And Savannah’s anger.
Jack was here. Right next to them.
Savannah and Thomas. And Jack.
Savannah threw herself into his arms and didn’t let go.
Fifty-Three
The Thorson Trio
What sealed Jack’s commitment to the podcast was Maggie’s promise that he’d meet the kids first. Just Savannah and Thomas. And Maggie. But no Sam, no microphones, no anything else.
The plane from Denver touched down in Minneapolis a full twenty-four hours before Sam Tamblin arrived from New York. Chef Bart met him at baggage claim with a sign that said, Jack. Then they drove straight to Maggie’s house, where she opened the front door and welcomed him in.
“They’ve been waiting to meet you.” Her smile stole the breath from Jack’s chest. Hints of Bess all over Maggie’s face.
“I—” he started. “It’s so nice—”
The Kids Are Gonna Ask Page 31