by Frankie Love
He points out all the details and the control panel and the wheels that really work.
“Wow. So, have you gone through your toys yet?”
He frowns. “I was mostly working on this. Hey, do you think I could ask Ford to take me to the bowling alley again? I have some quarters and I want to play the arcade games.”
I bite my bottom lip, not wanting to cry. God, my poor brother is practically begging for a man in his life. And it kills me, knowing that I took Ford from him.
“Matty…” I sigh. “He’s busy with work, but I can ask next time I see him, okay?”
That seems to cheer him up. “Okay, sweet! Well, I’m gonna go back and play—“
I cut him off. “No way, mister. You need to focus.” He’s procrastinating as badly as Tallie and I have been. We don’t seem to want to let go of anything. What does that say? Are we holding onto the past or scared to face the future? I’m guessing both.
I’m trying to make a better effort with him. Ever since the night in Central Park, I’ve intentionally been asking him about his day, taking an extra half-hour in the evening to play Minecraft with him or walk to the bodega at the end of the street for a candy bar.
But it seems like it’s not me he wants. It’s Ford.
“I know,” he says. “I’ll go do what you asked.”
I ruffle my hand through his shaggy hair. “Thanks, goose. And awesome engine. You’re the smartest guy I know.”
He beams, and I’m glad I’m making a better effort. He runs off with his Lego creation in hand.
“You know, Matty may be the smartest, but Ford’s the hottest,” Tallie says.
“Oh, my God,” I say, laughing and throwing a paperback at her. “That’s weird, you know that, right? A mixed analogy or something?”
“I know,” she laughs, waving it off. “But seriously have you watched the live stream lately? The sculpture is almost finished. I guess the last week of the project will be off the grid, no cameras. So, the unveiling is a bigger reveal.”
I smile tightly. I’ve avoided all contact with Ford since coming home, but I’d be lying to say it didn’t make my chest ache at the memory of him and me in Central Park; of him showing me his work in progress. I’d love to see it now.
I watched a morning talk show interview yesterday, featuring Ford. His smile lit up the camera, even though I could tell he hated the attention. He kept scowling, looking down. But his sex appeal was irresistible. The women interviewing him were all sorts of hot and bothered.
And so was I. I’m not ashamed to admit I replayed the clip about forty-three times last night as I tried to fall asleep.
“Well, that’s great for him,” I say with a chummy grin.
She rolls her eyes at my fake smile and I change the subject. “So, what did you mean, move in with Karis? Or something. I’m your guardian, not her parents.”
Tahlia twists her lips. “Right. And I totally know that, Mia.”
“Am I not doing a good enough job?” I ask, promising myself I won’t cry. Why am I taking this so personally? Don’t I want her to be happy? And she is talking to me, including me in her life. I should be pleased.
“Mia, whatever,” she scoffs. “You’re doing a great job. That’s not what I was trying to say.” She sets down the blouse in her hands and pulls me into a hug. “I just want my big sister to be happy. And with Ford you were.”
“It was a fling.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been home from Colorado for a week and been depressed as fuck.”
“Tallie! Language.”
“Sorry! Gosh, okay. Listen. I worry about us is all. I mean we’re packing up a house without a plan to where we might go. And I just…”
“I know.” I swallow, seeing the worry lines on her face.
“I love you, Mia. I’m just a little scared.”
“Do you think Matty is?”
Tahlia doesn’t answer right away. I exhale, knowing her silence says everything. “I’m letting Mom down, aren’t I?”
Tallie tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “Mia, Mom couldn’t be prouder of you. This past year, Matty and I survived because you committed to making life as normal as possible. You’re the best big sister in the world. Without you, we’d be in foster care, totally drowning.”
I blink back tears. “Then why do I feel like I’m letting you down? We’re treading water but damn, Tals, I’m so tired.”
“We will find a place to live. And worse cases scenario we all move into Karis’ parents place until we figure it out.”
“I’ll feel like a failure if it comes to that.”
Tallie smiles softly. “You can feel however you want. I’ll feel grateful to have people looking out for my family.”
I close my eyes, letting her words sink in. Ford said I was wise beyond my years, but looking at my little sister, I know the truth. She’s the one has it all figured out.
I’ve just finished shoveling ramen in my mouth, for lunch, when I noticed I missed a call. For a moment, I hope it’s Ford. But then I push that thought aside. I’m the one who broke up with him. I’ve barely seen him since we got back from our trip, I know he’s intentionally leaving extra early every morning and staying out late each night.
I don’t blame him. He said he was falling in love with me and I pushed him away.
I told him that he’s not ready for love but deep down it’s me who is scared to let anyone in.
There are no guarantees. Mom was gone in the blink of an eye. Better to stay in a cocoon of my own making than try and fly again, only to fall.
I click on the voicemail and hold my phone to my ear.
Hello, Mia! This is John, we met last week at the interview? I’m calling to let you know we’d like to offer you the concierge position at Uptown Suites.
Oh, thank you, God.
29
Mia
The job offer is a massive relief. The pay is double. Mr. Roller gave me a glowing recommendation. It’s not exactly my dream job though. I hate to admit it, but I think Tallie was more than a little right.
A big part of the reason I wanted to pursue hotel management in college was that it was familiar. It was something I knew. There was no risk involved, no fear. It was effortless.
Now I wonder if it is all a little too easy. Truth is, I’ve never stepped out in faith in my life. The timing to do that isn’t right, of course, not now. I have my siblings to consider. Ever since that hike with Ford, when I cried in his arms, grieving the loss of so much, I’ve wondered … is this it? Is the life I am living enough?
The honest answer is no. It isn’t. Not by a long shot.
The larger salary is great considering I need the extra pay to afford an apartment in this city. Though, I’m not naive to think I’ll be able to find a place in Manhattan proper. I’m guessing I’ll be commuting, which is going to be a strain on Matty and Tahlia, but at least we will be able to keep most of our routines in place. Except, of course, new schools for the both of them. That’s gonna kill Tallie the most.
It’s strange, though. I should feel a weight off my shoulders with this new opportunity, but instead, I feel claustrophobic. Like the walls of my life are closing in on me.
I’ve never been exactly easy-going but tension has woven its way into my heart and I can’t seem to unravel it.
Sitting on the couch, computer in my lap, I scour Craigslist for the hundredth time. You have to be diligent with these things in the city. The moment a decent place is listed, you have to call, maybe even take the place sight unseen.
“Hey, hottie,” Jaimie says, coming into the apartment with Karis right behind him. I didn’t even hear them walk in. I must be pretty damn focused on apartment hunting. Good, I’m finally taking it seriously.
They are both dressed up and I frown. I don’t remember hearing about any plans. “Looks like an exciting Friday night.” He drops a large tote bag to the floor and Karis hangs a garment bag on the hook behind the front door.
“T
his is a no judgment zone, FYI.” But even I can see how depressing the view is. I’m in ratty pink sweats, eating a pint of double chocolate fudge ice cream and have downed a half bottle of Chardonnay. Lady Gaga is blaring from Spotify and I’m not wearing a bra.
“The breakup’s hitting you kinda hard, then?” Karis asks, shoving over the pile of clean laundry and sitting beside me on the couch. She’s dressed in a black strapless jumpsuit that looks pretty freaking cute. The contrasting stitching is in white and it looks great with her blonde hair swept up in a high bun.
“I’m the one who ended it. This isn’t about Ford.”
Tallie pops her head out of the bathroom, hot rollers pinned in place and a beautiful royal blue dress tight on her petite frame. “I’m almost ready. Gimme two secs? Just gotta take these out,” she says pointing to her hair.
“You look hot, girl. Viva Le Paris, amiright?!”
Tallie glares at her oldest friend before returning to the bathroom.
“Where are you guys going?” I ask, eyeing Jaimie’s three-piece suit and Karis’ heels.
“Oh, we’re not going anywhere.” Karis smiles. “We’re doing a photo shoot.”
“For what?”
“To go on the website,” Tallie yells.
Karis pulls out her phone and opens a browser. “See, we’re finishing our collection, and we’re going to sell it. Online. Cool right?”
“So, we’re taking picture of the clothes,” Jaimie says. “Everything we have on is an original.”
“And since we’re the designers, we need a photo of ourselves on the site, too. For like, credibility,” Karis explains.
“And you’re just, like, going for it?” I ask, looking at the bones of the website. It isn’t exactly professional, but it’s got a cool, hipster vibe to it. A ‘less is more’ kind of thing.
Karis shrugs. “We have to try. You know, take it to the proving grounds.”
“Proving grounds?”
“Yeah,” Jaimie pushes out his lips, nodding. “It’s our brand. Proving Grounds.”
“Like, not just talk the talk, but walk the walk, you know?”
I swallow the lump forming in my chest. “Right. Walk the walk. That’s really admirable.” It’s hard not to compare them to myself.
I pushed Ford away, saying he wasn’t in a place to open his heart to love but wasn’t that really all about me? I’ve spent the last year saying what I can’t do — thinking about what I can’t have.
But what if I could? I don’t walk any walk. Hell, I’m not talking any talk either. I’m just in survival mode. How long is that supposed to last?
What if I could be more? Could do things differently? What is holding me back? Ford tells me I am the bravest, strongest woman he knows, but am I too scared to ask for what I really want?
Him.
Tallie walks out, her long hair in waves around her face. “I think we should do the photos in the kitchen. Like the eating cereal idea?”
I lift my eyebrows. “Cereal?”
“Yeah, it’s like a statement.” She grabs a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and rips open the box.
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s, like, anti-establishment,” she says looking at me like I’m as clueless as I feel.
“A giant corporation owns that brand. You get that, right?” I ask her, pulling my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head. I look in a mirror on the wall. For some reason, this bun isn’t anywhere as cute as Karis’. Apparently, I can’t even make my hair look good. God. Maybe I just need a shower. Or another long cry. This break up is hitting me hard and my entire gut is twisted in knots. Why am I doing this to myself?
Karis and Jamie reach into the box, eating handfuls of the sugary cereal. “Maybe,” Tallie says. “But it’s, like, not about that. It’s about our generation.”
I twist my lips, fighting a laugh. Maybe Tallie and her friends are wise in some ways, but in other ways, they’re just kids. And I may only five years older than them, but I feel the divide.
This past year has forced me to come to terms with so many things. Life, death, and fighting for the people that matter.
But what about me? Where do I fit into all of this?
I don’t want to resent the people I love, but I also don’t want to use them as an excuse, or as a crutch.
“I’m gonna head out for a walk,” I tell them, needing some fresh air; a way to clear my head. “Matty’s playing Minecraft and I’ll let him know I’m popping out. You guys can do your thing, okay?”
“Love ya, sis.” Tallie grins, kissing my cheek. “Don’t get yourself into too much trouble.”
I smile, knowing I’ve probably avoided too much trouble for my entire life.
30
Mia
A few minutes later, I’m leaving the front doors of the hotel and thinking about Ford and his damn mountain. The crisp, clean air, the bright, blue skies. When I was there I felt so free, like I could stretch my arms out wide without accidentally hitting the person next to me on the sidewalk.
“Hey lady,” a grumpy man hollers. “Out of the way.”
I sigh, holding tightly to the purse over my shoulder and head toward my favorite Chinese place. I push open the familiar doors and put in an order to-go of Orange Chicken. The food makes me nostalgic, remembering our first date. After the gala, in his tuxedo and my one-of-a-kind gown courtesy of Tallie, we shared Chinese food in Central Park.
It feels like a lifetime ago. I check my phone as I wait, looking at the photos I took last week in Colorado. Ford looks so handsome in every single one. His beard is even longer than it was when we first met and his bright eyes practically sear into mine as I zoom in on a selfie of us together.
In it, he is kissing my cheek, trying to avoid looking at the camera—he hates them as much as all other technology—but he didn’t begrudge me a few snapshots. And now I covet them, these captured moments. They are all I have left of that relationship.
Well, that is isn’t entirely true. Or even a little true. My heart is holding onto a hell of a lot when it comes to Ford Thatcher.
I pushed Ford away with good reason, or at least that is what I tell myself. And oh, how it hurts.
“Mia, your order is up!”
I tuck my phone in my pocket, blinking back the tears rising in my eyes and take my to-go bag.
Leaving the restaurant, I debate on going home or to Central Park to look at Ford’s sculpture while sitting on the same park bench we shared. Maybe it’s a little pathetic to reminisce this way, but I figure if there is a time to indulge, it’s post-breakup.
The sky is dark, but there are no stars visible out here, not with the light pollution. I find the bench we’d sat on all those nights ago and cross my legs under me as I open the carton of comfort food. The area surrounding the sculpture is completely covered, the same way it was when Ford and I made love inside the enclosed area.
My body aches with the memory. Why, exactly, did I let this man go?
Oh right, in a few weeks he will be living a million miles away. And my life is here, and not just mine. But Matty and Tahlia’s lives too.
I wish I could see what the sculpture looks like now. I sigh, leaning back against the bench, trying to picture it from what he has described. Just as I’m beginning to relax a man walks up next to me. I immediately sit up straighter, avoiding eye contact as he closes in. A lifetime in the city has taught me to be cautious.
He’s getting closer and is clearly out of sorts, mumbling and walking suspiciously near. I put my food into the plastic bag and move to stand, not wanting to assume the worst, but wanting to be smart. I reach into my purse and wrap my hand around the canister of mace attached to my key ring, lamenting the fact I came out here alone. This was stupid, and had I been in a better frame of mind, I’d never found myself in this situation.
Something about the way he is looking at me makes my skin crawl. He has a black beanie on his head and I can’t make out his features with the shadows of so
many trees around us.
“Excuse me,” I say, trying to remain calm, not wanting to aggravate the situation. But the man pounces on me, and in a matter of seconds, his hands are on my shoulders, pushing me to the ground before I can pull out the mace and spray it in his fucking eyes.
He pulls out a gun and presses it under my chin. My eyes burn with fright. This accelerated into a danger zone so damn fast. Too fast. I can hardly think.
“Help,” I scream, my throat scratching as he digs the barrel of the gun deeper into my skin. He has me pinned to the ground and reaches into my purse, fishing out my wallet as I try to get out from under him.
“Stop moving and make this easier for me,” he hisses. “Shut up and take it.” His hand is under the hem of my summer dress and my skin crawls as he touches my thighs.
I kick him hard, not going down without a fight. But that upsets him more and I wonder if I should squeeze my eyes closed, pretend this isn’t happening, and wishing like hell this was nothing but a nightmare.
“Help,” I beg, my heart beating furiously loud. I need him off me. He clamps a hand over my mouth, trying to shut me up. He cocks the trigger, as if angry that I am resisting what he wants so badly to take. His breath is rancid, and his hands dig into my skin.
Tears stream down my cheeks as the steel of the gun digs deeper against me.
And then there is a shout. Another man is coming, and for a moment I fear the very worst. It’s just not one man who is going to hurt me, but two.
My attacker is caught off guard. The second man pulls the attacker back by the shoulders, ripping him away from me. The man trying to mug me… to rape me, drops the gun in fear, as my hero punches him in the face.
I scramble back, trembling as I reach for my phone, dialing 9-1-1. “Central Park,” I whisper. “By the new sculpture. He’s attacking me. Someone is here now but hurry,” I cry as my attacker is punched again and again until he falls to the ground. The man who rescued me, pushes him into the bench, holding the gun on him.
It’s only then that he speaks.
Only then that I see his face.
Ford Thatcher, my hero.
31
Ford
She’s shaking, fucking terrified. And it kills me to see her gorgeous green eyes filled with so many tears. This woman hasn’t had a break in so damn long, and here she is, having things taken from her again.