by Kendall Ryan
Leaving Chicago now, after the friends I’ve made, the people I’ve met, after Connor? Suddenly, this trip feels insane. Like something someone does when they don’t have anyone or anything. I’m different now. I’m not who I was when I signed up to go. I have people, people who want me here, people who need me.
And goddammit, I need them too.
I’ve already thought through every possible escape route to get out of this trip, but there’s no way. I signed all kinds of waivers and contracts when I signed up. Hell, there was a rigorous application process to get in. This isn’t one of those eat, pray, love things. I agreed to go and help people, and that’s exactly what I have to do. There’s little choice. Even if every minute spent away from Connor and Marley will break my heart into smaller, more jagged pieces.
God, just the thought of it causes an actual pain inside my chest. It’s not as though I’m going away on vacation. I’ll be gone for months and months. Connor is an amazing catch—of course he’ll have found someone else by the time I return. I’ll have lost my shot with him forever.
My phone dings, and a notification flashes on the screen.
PACK!
Ugh. It’s a reminder I set for myself a couple of hours ago, when I felt this dread about leaving creeping over me. So I set the reminder and sprawled out on my bed in my little apartment, letting myself wallow for a bit. I’ve got to get packed so I can move over to Connor’s place for the next few days anyway. And that is something I’m definitely looking forward to.
It’s taken all kinds of willpower not to scroll through pictures of Marley and me on my phone, or through pictures of Connor on his Instagram. There’s only one place that kind of sentimentality will lead, and it’s not anywhere I want to be right now. Not if I can help it. I can’t go there right now, because if I do, I’ll cry. And I have too much to get done to dissolve into tears.
I force myself to sit up, and then I drag my old suitcase down from the shelf in my closet. And a duffel bag. And another suitcase. And a weekend bag, just to be safe. Since I started working for Connor, I’ve put off even thinking about packing, and now I have to figure out how to fit everything I own in two suitcases. Before I left Indiana, I gave away or donated everything I could live without, but I still have too much to take with me on this international trip.
I take a deep breath, push my sadness aside, and start digging through my closet.
Is four bags too much for a mission trip where I’m supposed to be spending my time serving others? I know that everyone always says to travel light, but it’s not like I’m packing my bags full of makeup or hair products. I just can’t think of anything I’m ready to leave behind.
Like, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a few different pairs of jeans, and all my fun tops, and some basic T-shirts, and obviously every pair of shorts I own. And it only makes sense to pack some dresses too, right? It’s not like I’ll only be working all the time.
So that means that I need to bring some cute shoes, maybe a pair of wedges, and those strappy sandals I’ve been wearing all summer. The same ones I wore on my first date with Connor, which, let’s be real, still stands as the hottest date I’ve ever been on in my life. And if I’m bringing the strappy sandals, I should probably bring some comfortable shoes too, like the sneakers I wear when I take Marley on a walk around the neighborhood.
Gah! And we’re back to Connor and Marley.
I used to be so excited for this trip. This was the only thing I was looking forward to for so long, and now? Now the thought of leaving makes me sick to my stomach.
I toss the sneakers I was holding onto the floor and throw myself back onto the bed, burying my face in my hands. I haven’t felt this torn up about something in . . . well, I don’t know how long. My heart hurts. Like, physically hurts. I don’t know how I’m going to walk onto that plane without puking my guts up or bawling my eyes out.
Even the thought of all the good we’ll be doing over there isn’t doing anything to comfort me. Because I have people who need me here too. Connor needs me, and so does Marley. And leaving them now just feels so freaking wrong.
My phone buzzes again, only this time it doesn’t stop.
I roll over and pick it up to find a number I don’t recognize calling me. But I do recognize the area code. It’s the same as the area code of the phone number of the agency that’s organizing the trip. Probably some last-minute check-in that I’ve gotten all my immunizations and have my passport up to date. That kind of routine stuff.
“Hello?” My voice is raspier than I thought it would be. And I haven’t even started crying yet.
“Hi, is this Jessa McClaine?” It’s a woman’s voice. She’s chipper and professional, the kind of person who likes to help people. The kind of person who goes on these trips without a second thought.
“Speaking.”
“Hi, Jessa, this is Cassidy. I’m calling about your upcoming trip. Do you have a minute?”
“Yep, I’m all ears. I was just packing, actually.”
“Oh, well, you might want to put a pause on the packing. We have a proposal for you. It’s a little out of left field, so don’t feel pressured to say yes, but we could really use you in a different area of the organization.”
My stomach falls to my feet. I nod, and then I remember that she can’t see me. “I see. What’s the proposal?”
“So, I know you had your heart set on traveling abroad, and I know this is very last minute, but we’re actually very much in need of volunteers here in the States. You’re in Chicago, correct?”
“Correct,” I blurt out faster than she can finish her sentence.
“Okay, that’s what I thought,” she says with a chuckle. “So, yeah, we’ve just received a call that we have eighty-five refugees on their way to Chicago from El Salvador and Honduras. We need a few of our staff members to stay behind and help coordinate these people’s next moves. Now, it’s going to be a big job. They’ll need a lot of support finding housing, employment, childcare. The kids will need to be enrolled in local schools, doctor’s appointments, vaccines. We’ve already got two verbal commitments, but we’re looking for one more person to give up their spot on the trip to help with this project. Is this something that you’d be interested in?”
My mind is spinning from all the information she just gave me, but one thing stands out above all the rest of the noise.
I don’t have to leave anymore. I can stay here. I can stay with Connor and Marley.
I almost sob with relief. Thankfully, I take a moment to compose myself.
“Jessa?” she asks.
“I’m here,” I say, quickly doing some mental gymnastics to see if making this compromise on staying here to work for the organization will mean losing a piece of myself. I do want to have a real shot with Connor, but I want to be sure I’m considering all sides. I don’t want to give up on my dreams.
Cassidy clears her throat. “If you need to think about it . . .”
“I don’t. I would love to stay and help with this project.”
The words feel like they’re being spoken by someone else, but it’s my voice that’s delivering them. My brain’s still not quite able to process the full reality of what’s happening right now, but I know it’s what I truly want.
Cassidy barrels forward like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “That’s great news, Jessa. Thank you so much for your generosity and willingness to step up where you’re needed. Your verbal commitment will be satisfactory for now, but we’ll send a written contract in the mail, and you should receive it next week.”
“Okay. That sounds fine.”
“Awesome. We’ll be in touch with more information soon, but before I let you go, do you have any questions for me at this time?”
“Um, thank you? I mean, I just really appreciate this opportunity.”
Cassidy laughs. “You’re welcome. We’ll be reaching out to you soon about start dates and any additional paperwork we’ll need you to fill out.”
“Okay. Thank you. ’Bye.”
I hang up and sit there with the phone in my hand for what feels like another five minutes.
Do I have some kind of supernatural power I’m not aware of? Or maybe I’ve got some kind of super-special connection to God or whoever’s in charge up there. Whatever it is, I’m going to need a minute to process what the hell just happened.
I’m not leaving anymore.
I’m staying here.
I’m staying here in Chicago, and that means Connor and I can be together.
Holy shit.
The full weight of the reality of what’s happening hits me all at once, and I jump up from the bed and punch my fists in the air. In any other circumstance, it would feel corny as hell, but right now, I don’t know what else to do. There’s no other way to express how freaking over the moon I’m feeling right now.
Actually, that’s not true. I can think of plenty of things I’d like to do the next time I see Connor. And the best part is, the next time I see him definitely won’t be the last.
Relief rushes through me, and I fall back onto the bed with a huge grin on my face.
17
* * *
CONNOR
This is hopeless.
After scrolling through another nanny’s résumé and references, I press the heels of my hands against my tired eyes.
I haven’t been sleeping well, knowing that Jessa is just days away from disappearing from our lives like she was never here in the first place. And it isn’t just the task of finding another nanny that’s overwhelming me. It’s the idea that I may lose my one shot at something truly promising.
If I lose Jessa, I know I could lose more than just a chance at a relationship—I could lose a chance at real happiness.
I click to open another application with a sigh. Plenty of experience, two glowing referrals, a holistic approach to childcare . . . everything a single dad could want in a nanny.
I turn to Marley, who’s been busying herself in the bouncer at my feet by gnawing on a teething toy. It’s pretty much impossible not to pause and marvel at how big she’s already gotten in just a handful of months. I wonder if she’ll remember Jessa, her loving caretaker for these crucial months of development, or if she simply won’t notice the swap of one pair of warm arms for another.
I lower my laptop to her level so she can get a good look at the applicant’s résumé. “What do you think? Does she seem like your type?”
Marley looks at the screen. Frowning, she flaps her pudgy little arms as an animated squeal leaves her lips.
“Yeah, me neither.”
It takes the rest of the afternoon, but I’ve narrowed it down to three potentials. One older nanny with experience as an au pair abroad, one younger nanny with a graduate degree in child development and psychology, and one last nanny with an address conveniently near mine. To calm Marley’s fussing, I’ve long since tucked her against my chest, and she’s now snoring softly into the worn fabric of my shirt.
I’m just beginning to doze too when I’m roused by a soft knock at the front door.
Jessa?
That can’t be right. She should be downtown at the nonprofit’s headquarters, finalizing the paperwork for her trip. And if she isn’t downtown, she’d certainly be busy packing away what few belongings she has upstairs at the Wilkeses’.
Maybe she has to leave early and she came to say good-bye. Or maybe it’s just one of the census people again.
I take a deep breath, and with Marley in one arm, somehow manage to get myself up from the couch without waking her. And when I open the front door, any uncertainty I had about things between Jessa and me collapses into a warm puddle of all the sappy emotions, all at once.
Jessa stands on my front porch, a warm smile on her lips. “Hi,” she says breathlessly.
I drink in the sight of her—the casual tee, the comfortable leggings, the familiar sneakers—and I nearly choke on the lump camping out in my throat. Don’t leave.
“Hey,” I manage to croak out. “What’s up? I thought you were doing trip stuff today.”
“I was.” She nods, breaking eye contact with me to stare at her shoes. “And then I got a call.” She twists her fingers together, a nervous gesture.
I arch an eyebrow. “What about? Is everything okay?”
“Well, it’s a lot to explain.”
“Okay. Do you want to come inside?” I nod my head toward the ajar door, careful not to jostle the sleeping baby nestled peacefully against my chest.
“It’s so nice out. Can we talk out here?”
Does she not want to come in? My body tenses on instinct. What the hell is going on?
“Of course.”
I step inside briefly to grab a blanket to keep Marley warm against the beginning of a breeze that feels more like fall. Soon, the three of us are sitting together on the front porch, watching the sun set over the tall trees lining my street.
I turn to see a contemplative look on Jessa’s face. I’m impatient, but I train my voice to be gentle. “Jessa, tell me what’s going on.”
“So, here’s the thing. I got offered a job. Not the abroad job . . . um, one here in Chicago. It’s with the same nonprofit organization, but it turns out they need more support here in Chicago than they do in El Salvador. So they’ve offered me a position here.”
Oh. My heart is pounding at the base of my throat, a triumphant cheer desperate to be released. But I keep my mouth shut. Better to keep my hopes low and not set myself up for more hurt. But still, I can’t help thinking . . . don’t leave.
“And I said yes.”
The cheer dissolves into a strangled sigh, deflating all my tension and stress and leaving nothing but pure relief. Thank fuck.
I lean into Jessa, resting my forehead on her shoulder. She giggles, leaning her head on mine.
“I’m so glad,” I whisper, tightening my hold on Marley. “She will be too, once she wakes up.”
“Which could be at any second, if I know anything about this little girl,” Jessa says with a laugh.
“And you most certainly do.” Which is why it’s been so hard to find a replacement. I lift my gaze to hers, enjoying the way the setting sun colors her cheekbones a dusty pink. “Why the hell did you lead in like you were sharing bad news?”
She chuckles. “I don’t know. I guess I was worried this would change things between us. I’ve been gearing up to leave for, like, months, and suddenly I’m staying? I didn’t know how you’d feel about that.”
I reach out to cup the side of her face, drawing my thumb across the softness of her cheek. “I feel happy. Happier than you could ever imagine.”
A smile flickers across Jessa’s lips before settling into a soft frown.
“But you still have to find a new nanny,” she says, concern in her eyes. “With this new job, I’ll be working full time, plus probably overtime when it’s needed. I wish I could, but I can’t be in two places at once.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve already got three good options picked out.” Suddenly, I’m very glad I did all that tiresome work today. I can see the weight lifting off of Jessa’s shoulders as she sits up a little straighter.
“Really?”
“Really.”
A shadow of disappointment falls over her features. “I’m going to miss taking care of Marley.” Her eyes meet mine with a desperation I know all too well. “Not just Marley. I’m going to miss you too. But staying in Chicago means I need to find a new apartment—”
“Move in with me.”
She sighs softly, turning away with a scoff and shaking her head slowly. “No, Connor. You’ve been kind enough already, offering to let me stay here for a few days.”
“I’m not being that kind. I’m actually being incredibly selfish.”
“Come on . . .”
“Jessa, I mean it. Move in with me. With us. Permanently.”
She blinks, turning back toward me with a curious look in those big blue eyes. “Pe
rmanently?”
With the hand not securing Marley, I take Jessa’s fingers and bring them to my mouth to brush whisper-soft kisses against her knuckles.
“Jessa . . . this is all new to me. I haven’t felt the way I feel about you with anyone else. You could be leaving for El Salvador as planned, and I’d still feel the same damn way. But you’re not leaving, and maybe that makes me greedy, because I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to spend a single day away from you. So, please, move in with me. With us.” I meet her eyes, the blue orbs filling with tears. “I don’t want you to let me go either. I don’t want to let you go.”
Tears fall freely down her freckled cheeks now, so I capture them with tender kisses. And when her lips meet mine in a passionate, gasping kiss, all that matters is the touch of her skin against mine.
We part only when my daughter, now predictably wide awake, begins pulling at Jessa’s hair. While we attempt to pry a tiny fistful of curly locks from Marley, she laughs gleefully, a laugh so contagious we can’t help but join in.
Jessa leans down to plant an adoring kiss to my baby girl’s forehead, and I press my lips to the crown of Jessa’s head, sharing one of many priceless moments to come.
I’m certain of it.
18
* * *
JESSA
Let’s just say this isn’t how I expected my summer to go. Today couldn’t be more perfect. Connor at the grill, Marley in my arms, all our closest friends laughing and eating in our backyard.
That’s right. Our backyard. I’m still not quite over that one yet. It’s a big upgrade, going from renting out a room in someone else’s house to sharing a home with the man you adore. I’m not quite over that part of all this either. How perfectly everything’s worked out with Connor. Some things in life are just fate, I guess.
“She’s getting bigger every day, isn’t she?” Scarlett scrunches her nose and coos at Marley, who smiles back at her.
Penelope, Scarlett, Maren, and I are huddled in a circle on the deck, drinking rosé and admiring the men from afar. I’ll be honest, I appreciate my new friends even more now that I almost left them all for Central America. We were just starting to get close right before I was about to leave, and I feel so lucky to have this time with them to gossip and giggle and talk about life.