Gustavo lives in a nicer part of town than we do, in a cute little condo building closer to the tourist trap that is Old Town. I fidget while Mom rings the doorbell.
“Mom!” Kait looks surprised. She has Stephanie in the baby sling around her neck. “Abby? Come in!”
The condo is immaculate, white tile floors and white furniture with shaggy black pillows. There’s a huge TV on the wall with the most enormous DVD collection I’ve ever seen, housed on simple black shelves. I walk closer and see that the DVDs are in alphabetical order. Cody would so approve. Since our room was never clean, I don’t think for a minute it’s Kait’s work we’re seeing.
Kait ushers us into the living room and settles Stephanie into a baby swing that is set up in the corner. It’s hard to believe I haven’t seen her in almost a month, and even harder to take is that fact that she’s grown so much. Her eyebrows have darkened, and her tiny, tiny feet aren’t quite as little anymore.
“You came for a visit?” Kait asks, planting herself on the couch.
“What, you thought you’d never see us again?” I sound cranky, and it’s because I know I should’ve called or come over sooner. Stephanie shouldn’t be growing up without Aunt Abby around. Mom takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Kait while I pace between the baby swing and shelves.
“I was beginning to wonder.” Kait twirls a strand of hair around her finger, and I notice she’s added some dark honey-colored highlights. It looks good. I almost tell her so, but then she says, “So why are you here?”
I decide to plunge in. “It’s about Jackson.”
“I knew it!” Mom crows. Kait gives her a weird look.
“We’re just friends,” Kait says. “If you’d stuck around at homecoming, I would’ve told you. Gustavo was supposed to take me, but his assistant manager got the flu and no one else could work at the store. I didn’t want to go alone—I mean, I’m not a total loser. . . .”
“So you used his second ticket?” I ask, wanting to get this perfectly clear.
Kait shakes her head, and the new highlights glint as her hair swings. “I had my own, but Jackson told me he had an extra because Trey enlisted this summer and got sent to North Carolina last week for boot camp.”
Just like Cody’d said. A perfectly reasonable explanation. Trey and Jackson had been on the football team together for years and were good friends, but midway through their senior year, Trey moved to Flagstaff. Of course Jackson would buy an extra ticket so he could come. Mom reaches over, takes my hand, and squeezes.
“Really?” I ask. “For real, just friends? No games, no flirting? No lifelong connection?” I glance Stephanie’s way, but Kait misses my meaning.
Kait smiles at me, big. Holds out her left hand. “I’m about to become Kaitlyn Mercado. There’s no way I’m messing that up.” The ring on her finger glitters in the light.
“Is it real?” Mom asks, which is not the right response.
“Wow, congratulations!” I say, and hug her. “I had no idea.”
Kait’s smile gets bigger, if that’s possible. “Gustavo loves me. Really loves me. And Stephanie, too. You’ll be my maid of honor, right? That’s what I called about yesterday. I was worried when you didn’t call back.”
“Of course!” I say, already thinking about how my princess dress will make a fine maid-of-honor gown once the tear is fixed. “I’m so happy for you. You love him, too, right?”
Kait makes her patented you’re-such-a-freak face at me. “Duh! Plus Dr. Patty says that children raised in an intact family unit are less likely to become delinquent or involved in crime as teens. So of course I said yes when Gustavo asked me to marry him! I don’t want Stephanie to grow up and be a klepto or a murderer or something.”
Mom is still examining the ring. “It looks real.”
Kait snatches back her hand. “It is! Jeez, Mom.”
“I’m just looking out for you,” Mom says. “A fake diamond is no sign of commitment.”
Stephanie gets fussy in her swing. Mom puts up a hand. “I’ve got it.” She hurries over and picks up her granddaughter. “Hi there, sweetie. What’s wrong?” Then she degenerates into baby coo and walks with Stephanie into the kitchen.
Kait watches until they’re out of sight. “Think I should worry?”
I sit on the couch next to Kait. “She raised us.” Which is not reassuring, come to think of it.
Kait bites her lip and says, “She’s better lately, don’t you think? Like something changed.”
“Like her daughter ran off with her husband? That’s a big change.”
“At first, when she called me, I was so shocked. I mean, Mom always gets what she wants. It’s like she’s been charmed her whole life.” Kait worries the lip between her teeth. “But I was reading this other book, I’m Doing My Best!: Single Mothers Speak Out, and this one mom talked about how having a baby when she was sixteen made her feel cheated. She missed out on what everyone else her age was doing and had this huge responsibility. I never thought of Mom like that, but it’s kind of what happened to her, right?”
I’m glad that Dr. Patty is not Kait’s only source of psycho-babble, and what she’s saying kind of makes sense. “I guess. Mom’s never made it a secret that we definitely cramp her style.”
“But for all that, she does love us,” Kait says. “Now that I have Stephanie, I get that. It doesn’t matter about the special feedings and the lack of sleep or the extra trips to the doctor that, thank God, Gustavo is paying for. She’s everything to me. Mom must’ve felt that for us, don’t you think?”
“She’s good at hiding it,” I say. “But maybe.”
“Look at Shelby. She just left Hannah behind. Mom never abandoned us. That’s something, I think. And now that she’s older, she’ll probably be a better mom to the new baby. Dr. Patty says older parents tend to be more relaxed.”
“You seem pretty good with the whole mom thing.” I curl a foot underneath me and shift one of the shaggy pillows onto my lap. “Almost like an expert.”
She laughs. “Maybe someday!”
Then I remember the other thing I need cleared up. I decide to ease into the subject. “Hey, Kait, it doesn’t bother Gustavo that Stephanie’s not his?”
“She is.”
I must look shocked, because Kait rushes to explain. “That’s what he says. She’s his in all the ways that matter.”
“Ah, that’s sweet.” I clutch and unclutch the pillow. “So, he’s not jealous of Stephanie’s real dad?”
Kait laughs again. “I can’t believe I ever thought I loved Steve. Gustavo is good to me, Abby. He doesn’t have anything to be jealous of.”
I can’t outright accuse of her lying. Plan B goes into action. “You wouldn’t happen to know Stephanie’s blood type, would you?”
“Why? You sick or something?” she asks with what might be real concern on her face.
“No.” I scramble for a not-crazy-sounding reason. “What if I’m babysitting for you and . . . ”
Kait squeals and hugs me. “You’ll babysit? Oh my God, that’s so great.”
Untangling myself from her arms, I say, "... and there’s some kind of accident and she needs blood . . . ?”
Leaning back on the cushions, Kait smiles. “Did you just do Mr. Kimball’s blood-typing thingy? Because I was so paranoid after his whole talk about people dying because they got the wrong kind of blood transfusion and—”
“Sheesh, Kait, just answer the question.”
She’s puzzled and then brightens. “Stephanie’s a B—that’s what the paperwork from the hospital said.”
I hug her again and wonder how long it will take us to get back home. If Shelby’s right, the Guitar Player is a B and that makes it possible he really is Stephanie’s biological dad. And right now, with Kait so shiny and happy and Stephanie with her new dad, Jackson’s blood type doesn’t seem that important. There’s really only one thing I need to say to him, and that I definitely have do in person.
Mom return
s from the kitchen and hands off Stephanie to Kait. “We all done?” she asks with a look that makes me think maybe she heard every word we said.
I kiss my niece good-bye and my sister, too. Mom hurries to the car, but I’m afraid no matter how fast we go, I’m going to be too late.
“Can’t we go any faster?”
It normally doesn’t take longer going one way across town than the other, but Mom has managed to turn onto a street with major construction. It’s evening, which means there shouldn’t be bulldozers out scooping up loads of sand and then blocking traffic as they putt-putt-putt at three miles an hour to the dump site, but there’s at least one and it’s caused a backup several miles long. One side of the road is ripped up. We’re trapped on the other, crawling along. The Benz wheezes, but we’ve gotten used to the sound. We pull to a stop, then inch forward again. I am dying. And she knows it.
“Don’t worry, Abby, there’s plenty of time.” She turns to look at me.
I look out the window. “Mom!”
“What?” Her reflexes are bad. She hits the accelerator instead of the brakes. We come within millimeters of ramming the car in front of us. She realizes her mistake and jerks the wheel to the side. Faster than a blink, we’re in the construction ditch. The Benz wheezes, then chokes. The engine dies. She turns the key and nothing happens.
“Oh, crap,” she says.
Chapter 25
I may have gotten the Rules wrong. There might be something more important than being safe. Driving down I-17 in Cody’s car as he rehearses for a career in NASCAR certainly tests that theory. Because a sane person would point out that driving twenty or thirty miles over the speed limit is dangerous, but I don’t have time to be cautious. Jackson’s plane is scheduled to leave in two hours. It seems like plenty of time, but too much has gone wrong today to count on any good luck.
The Benz had to be towed. Dad came to get us, chuckling at the mess Mom had gotten us into now. Has no one thought of taking this woman’s license away from her? Dad insisted Mom go to the emergency room to make sure the baby was okay. Since we’d hit speed bumps harder than we’d hit the ditch, I wasn’t worried about her. Dad dropped me at home, where I’d immediately gone next door to beg Cody for a ride.
Of course, Cody came through. He printed out a map, so we’d know where to park and which direction I should run when we finally got to the Phoenix Sky Harbor, which is just an airport, although it sounds like some kind of interstellar refueling station.
Cody’s cell phone rings, that annoying disco song he knows I hate. Both his hands are on the wheel and he needs his concentration, so I wrangle it out of his side pocket and say, “Hello?”
“Oh, Abby!” It’s Mom, and she’s crying. “Barbara said you were with Cody, and I really needed to get ahold of you. . . .”
“What happened?” I’m frantic because if something’s wrong, how can we turn around when it’s taken me so long to figure out what I want?
“It’s a girl!” she sobs into the phone. “They did a sonogram in the ER, and the baby’s a girl!”
Okay, this is not call-me-in-a-panic news, but I have to make allowances for hormones. “That’s great,” I say.
“I know! I’m so happy!” She cries harder. I actually hear the snot build up.
“Can you put Dad on?”
“Hey, pumpkin,” he answers. “Your mom’s agreed to marry me again! You know, as soon as both our divorces are final. Great news, isn’t it?”
Oh, Jesus. I brace my feet on the glove compartment. “Yeah, I guess. What about the baby? It doesn’t matter that she’s not, you know, yours?”
He laughs into the phone. “Well, it’s not totally impossible that she’s not.”
So much more info than I needed right now. “Uh, great then. Congrats.” I flip the phone shut and hold it in my lap.
“Oh my God,” Cody says, clearly having heard it all. Really, there’s nothing else to say. We’re quiet for a long stretch of road until we hit the airport.
“Just go!” Cody drops me off at Departures. “I’ll catch up after I park.”
Have I mentioned that Cody is the best friend in the universe?
My canvas tote bangs against my side as I run past the ticketing counters, toward the security area closest to his gate. In my mind, I see how this will play out. It’ll be just like the time Leah from Moments of Our Lives had a psychic vision that Duke’s plane to Washington, D.C., was going to crash and she had to rush to the airport to stop him.
I’ll run up the down escalators toward the gate. Jackson, looking rugged in his backpacking gear, will have just heard his flight called. He’ll rise from his seat, pulling the plane ticket out of his back pocket. He’ll hand it to the stewardess, smiling his great smile at her. I’ll run, but not fast enough.
“Jackson!” I’ll yell, and although lots of people will turn to look at me, he won’t. He’ll walk through the door, onto the skyway, and disappear from my life forever.
Duke never did come back to the show. Hard to when your body’s supposed to be scattered in tiny bits across the Atlantic.
Or maybe it’ll be more like the Veterans’ Hospital ending, when Malibu had to stop Paul from taking that ambassador’s position in Europe.
“Jackson!” I’ll yell, running in his direction. “Jackson, don’t leave me!”
He’ll turn. Do a double-take. Rip the ticket out of the flight attendant’s hand and run toward me. We’ll meet up under a display board.
“Abby! You came!” he’ll say, covering my face in kisses.
“My darling, I couldn’t let you go,” I’ll say.
“I didn’t want to go,” he’ll reply. “I only left because I thought you wanted me to.”
“No, never!” We’ll kiss, large and sloppy. “I can’t live without you.”
“And I can’t live without you!” More kissing.
The flight attendant will tap his shoulder. “Excuse me, sir. Your flight’s about to leave. You really need to get on that plane.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he’ll say. Then he’ll rip his ticket in two and fling the pieces behind him. “I’m never going anywhere without you again.”
Cut to the bedroom scene, the candles, and the satin sheets. And we’ll live happily ever after.
Unfortunately, reality is turning out way different. Yes, I’m running through the airport terminal like a crazy person. Yes, I’m yelling “Jackson!” because I can see him up ahead. But there’s still an hour until his flight leaves and the line he’s standing in is for the metal detector. The security guard watches me like this is the most interesting thing he’s seen all day. In fact, a lot of people are watching, but I push them out of my mind. I have to focus here.
“Jackson!”
“Abby?” He looks surprised. Well, he should be surprised after the things I said to him. Or didn’t say. He steps out of the line and walks toward me. Walks. I slow down.
“Jackson,” I pant, catching my breath. “I have to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I get that.” He guides me over to an empty alcove by a door that says NO ADMITTANCE. He drops his oversized backpack between us on the ground and leans against the door. “What’s up?”
He looks at me and I look at him. This is the moment. I have to choose. Stay safe, use the Rules, stick to the Plan. Or go for what I really want, who I really want, and find a way to make it work.
“I love you,” I say, watching him closely.
His back straightens. He kicks his backpack to the side. His hands grip my shoulders, and he pulls me closer to him. “You what?”
“I love you.”
“You’re telling me now?”
Okay, I never thought about that part. That he might be mad at me for waiting too long. Maybe I’ve screwed things up past fixing.
“Um, yeah? Because, well, I kind of wanted to tell you in person. Not, like, in the airport, but you’re leaving and I just figured it out.”
“Just figured it out?” His hands cup
the back of my neck. “When?”
I look at my watch. “Couple hours?”
“And it took you this long to tell me?” He smiles and lowers his head. Our lips meet, his teasing and light, and I can finally breathe. It’s going to be okay.
“I’m not too late?” I ask after a few minutes of spit swapping. “You’re not mad?”
He wraps me in his arms and holds me close to him. “Your timing does kind of suck. You know I’m leaving the country, right?”
“I was running,” I remind him.
“But lucky for you, I’ll be back in a few months.”
“You will?” I jump a little, rubbing our fronts together. “I thought you were going for good.”
“I was.” He smoothes down my hair. “But Mom got to me with all this talk of how much more help I’d be as a doctor or at least some kind of social worker. That, hey, there’re needy kids right here in our own country, too. So I talked to the A.U. people. They’ve deferred my enrollment until spring term. I’ll be home by Christmas.”
I’m so happy, all I can do is kiss him. Then something occurs to me.
“Hey, does Cody know this?”
“Of course. We had a big family powwow last night.”
That little . . .
Of course his leaving out certain critical facts did lead to this very nice moment. “He’s sneaky,” is all I say.
Jackson squeezes me hard. “I can’t believe you finally say you love me and we’re at an airport. And I have to leave. When I get back, Abby, I expect you to be waiting for me. Here. You’re the first thing I want to see when I get off the plane.”
I look at the big security sign a few feet away. “After your luggage?”
“Whatever. Just promise you’ll be here for me.”
“What’s in it for me?”
He laughs. “I’ll show you.” And then he kisses me like there’s nothing else in the world more important to him than getting as close to me as possible. It could be addictive, this kind of kiss. But I decide it’s okay. Jackson won’t let me down.
“Jackson?”
“Hmmm?”
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