I forced a laugh. “How am I being a chicken?”
“I know you’re thinking about staying in Hawaii longer than the summer. That’s being a chicken.”
“That’s really none of your—”
“Business? Well, last winter when you told me I was being a chicken for planning to move to Hawaii, it wasn’t any of your business either.”
I swallowed. “That’s different. You’d have been leaving school. But I’m supposed to be going away to college anyway—” “And if you had a college you wanted to go to, that’d be one thing. You don’t. You want to get away from Connor. You’re running away.”
I clamped my mouth shut. She made too much sense for me to argue.
“Just leave me alone, Abbie,” I said as tears squeezed from the corners of my eyes.
And miraculously, she did.
“Skylar.” A male voice. Vaguely familiar. Again: “Skylar.” Something poked my side. “Skylar, wake up.”
I cracked open my eyes to find Justin squatted next to me. Where on earth . . . ?
I winced as I sat and took in my surroundings—the front porch. From the ache of my muscles, I’d spent the night here on the bench. I vaguely recalled lying down.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“A little after five. I was getting in my truck to go to work and saw what turned out to be your cell phone blinking. And then I noticed you. Everything okay?”
I still had on my makeup and date clothes. I’d come home from our date and marched through the dark house straight to the bedroom to yell at Abbie. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth—ew.
“Yeah, I just . . .” I massaged my neck as I searched for an appropriate answer. I really didn’t want to relive my argument with Abbie. “I guess I just fell asleep.”
“So I know I’m supposed to give it a couple days or whatever”—Justin shifted and his knees cracked—“but Chase and Kelli are going out tonight and asked if we want to come along.”
“Kelli’s Chase’s girlfriend?” It all seemed foggy at the moment.
“Yeah. I think you’d really like her. I don’t know what we’re doing yet. They mentioned bowling, which they’re both way into.” Justin shrugged. “I know that sounds kinda lame.”
“No, it sounds fine.” I smoothed my knotted hair.
“I gotta go. I get off around three today. I’ll come over after I shower and stuff. Cool?”
“Yeah.”
He squeezed my knee as he stood. “See you then.”
I dragged myself off the bench, trudged through the dark house once again, and collapsed into bed beside Abbie.
“No,” Dad said in a flat voice.
“No?” I repeated. “You’re not even going to think about it?”
“If you want to come home with us on Thursday, that’s one thing, but I won’t have you constantly flying back and forth from Hawaii to home.”
“One trip isn’t constantly.”
“If I say yes to this trip, then what about in a month when it’s Connor’s birthday?”
“Connor’s birthday is in December.”
Dad spread guava jelly on his toast. “Do you see my point or not? You decided you needed time away, that you wanted to spend the summer in Hawaii. Now you need to live with that decision.”
I chewed on my lip. “But you just said I could go home on Thursday if I wanted.”
“Completely different.”
“How?”
“That’s making a choice. I’m saying no to you . . .” Dad waved his hand, searching for the right word. “Dibble-dabbling around.”
“Dibble-dabbling?”
“Yes. Either you choose to come home and deal with everything, or you choose to stay here through the summer and get a little space. No in-between stuff.”
A new voice entered the conversation: “Skylar, dearest, can I make you some French toast?”
Grammy stood in the kitchen, her wet hair wrapped in curlers and her floral bathrobe cinched around her waist. How long had she been standing there? I’d purposefully chosen to have this conversation with Dad while she showered.
“No, I ate already.” I nudged my empty cereal bowl, as if I needed proof. “Thanks.”
“Cereal’s not a real breakfast.” Grammy pulled eggs from the fridge.
I glanced at Dad, hoping he’d help me out. He gazed out the window and seemed not to hear us. “I eat cereal all the time. It’s fine.”
“Not in this house it isn’t.”
“Grammy, really, it’s fine.”
“Hush. Now go take your shower, and by the time you get out, I’ll have some nice French toast all fixed for you.” I gave Dad one last “help me” look, which he didn’t notice, and backed away from the table. I moved toward the sink to rinse my bowl.
“Oh, just leave that there, dear heart. I’ll take care of it.”
“Okay, thanks.” I left my bowl and shuffled down the hall.
As I knelt at my suitcase in the bedroom, gathering clothes for the day, Dad and Grammy’s conversation floated through the vent.
“Don’t try forcing her to return to Kansas City,” Grammy said as I leaned closer.
“I’m not.” Dad sounded calm and collected. “But I’ve no intentions of shuttling her back and forth all the time. If you and Kelani choose to, that’s your business.”
“Skylar’s very fragile right now, and we’re willing to give her all the attention she needs. What about you, Paul? Are you willing? Or do you still think that stupid company matters more than your own family?”
Was I fragile? I’d always thought of myself as strong, but the last couple months had proven otherwise. The parties. The drinking. Eli. One setback and I’d fallen right into my old lifestyle. How weak did that make me?
“My daughter’s not fragile,” Dad said in a stern voice I knew well. “Yes, she’s hit a rough patch, but I know Skylar. Once she gets her footing, she’ll come back even stronger. She doesn’t need me telling her what to do. And the last thing she needs is you smothering her, trying to manufacture a life for her here in Hawaii. Trying to make up for what happened with Teri.”
Grammy didn’t respond, or if she did, I couldn’t hear it over my crying.
9
I hoped a quiet afternoon of bumming around the beach would help me sort out my to-return-to-Kansas or to-not-return issue. Without Abbie’s sullenness, Owen’s screeching, or the strange tension between my parents and grandparents, surely I could sort out the next couple years of my life.
So when my jingling cell phone pulled me away from my deep thoughts, I nearly ignored it. But I could at least check the caller ID. Heather. It’d been weeks since I talked to her. I used to see her every Saturday, back when we had sewing dates over at her tiny cottage of a house.
Heather and my drifting apart wasn’t really anybody’s fault. It certainly hadn’t helped our relationship that when I broke up with Connor, she’d just started dating a doctor from her work and was in that whole moony, new-love phase. I’d been happy to put a little space between us. To have one less person asking questions about my behavior. Seeing her name on the caller ID made me nostalgic. This was, in fact, Saturday. I’d normally have been at her house.
I popped open my phone. “Hey, Heather.”
“Hey, girl!” Heather blasted me with enthusiasm. “What’s going on?”
I resettled in my lounge chair and tipped my face to the sun. “Just hanging out. What about you?”
“Brent proposed!”
I sat up. “He proposed?”
“Yes! He took me out to dinner at Planet Sub last night—long story, don’t ask. But anyway, he proposed! Got down on one knee and everything! And I was stunned. I mean, I just sat there gaping at him. And everyone cheered. It was surreal. I’m sure they all thought he was a total cheapskate proposing at Planet Sub, but I couldn’t very well go into the whole story with them . . .”
I smiled as Heather rattled on. A right she’d earned. Heather had been waiting a very lo
ng time for the right guy to come along. And now it appeared he finally had.
Ugh—appeared he finally had? Old, cynical Skylar talked like that, but not me. Brent was the right guy for Heather.
“When’s the wedding?” I asked as Heather wound down her story. “Or do you know yet?”
“August 1.”
“August?”
I apparently said this pretty loud—a nearby tourist family turned to look at me, their children pausing mid–sand castle. I ignored them.
“I know it’s a little hasty—”
“A little? That’s like . . .” I couldn’t do the math quickly enough. “Really soon.”
“Six weeks. Which is nuts, I know, but it’s also pretty romantic. We were going to wait and do a holiday wedding, but his sister’s getting married then and it’s this huge, formal affair where, like, everybody except the president is expected. Then we found out my sister, Lane, is leaving in the middle of August for Africa. She’ll be there a whole year and I don’t want to have it without her, but I don’t want to wait that long either. So we thought if we kept it small, like just family and close friends, we could get away with an outdoor wedding at Loose Park. Wouldn’t that be gorgeous? In the rose garden—”
“I can’t come.” The thought of not being there brought tears to my eyes.
“What do you mean you can’t come?”
“I’m in Hawaii until the thirteenth.”
“I thought you came back this Thursday.”
“No, just my family.”
“Well . . .” The joy had drained out of Heather’s voice. “Well, that sucks. I’d really counted on you being here. I thought we could have the best time making my dress together—”
My heart wrenched with pain. “Your wedding dress?”
“Yeah. I was thinking something simple since it’ll be outdoors, but something different too. Like maybe a sweetheart-style top, but then a flowy, kind of casual skirt.”
My head swam with options. A cotton dress, brilliant white with a subtle rose pattern. Or maybe with roses sewn along the skirt hem. An asymmetrical skirt hem.
My fingers ached for my machine.
“It’d be amazing,” I said, my voice thick.
“Maybe you could fly back for the wedding.”
I thought of my dad that morning and knew it was out of the question. “Maybe.”
“Oh, I hope so! It just wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Justin lumbered down the beach. It must be later than I thought, since he’d already changed out of work clothes into board shorts and a T-shirt. “Mind if I call you back a little later? I need to go.”
“That’s fine. Call whenever.”
“Okay. Wait, Heather?”
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”
I could hear her smile. “Thanks, Skylar. Bye.”
“Who are we happy for?” Justin asked as he settled into the sand beside me.
I clicked my phone shut. “My friend Heather. She just got engaged.”
“Cool.” He tipped his face into the wind. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how beautiful it is here.”
That was it? He couldn’t muster up any more excitement? Of course, he didn’t know Heather. If he’d told me some random chick from Cumberland was getting married, I wouldn’t have much to say either. But I’d at least ask when the wedding was or how they met. Something to show interest.
“So, Chase and I decided to make dinner for you girls. You eat meat? We’re gonna grill steaks.”
“Steak sounds great,” I said as I pulled on my tank.
“If you don’t eat meat, we can grill you some veggies or something. Kelli’s a vegetarian and we’re already grilling them for her, so it’d be no problem.”
“I eat meat.” If I sounded slightly annoyed, it’s because I was. I mean, I said it sounded great. I wouldn’t have said that if I didn’t eat meat.
“Some girls just agree so they won’t seem difficult.”
“Well, I don’t mind being difficult.”
Justin grinned. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, sure.”
As we gathered up my beach stuff, my phone pinged with a message. I opened it to see a picture from Heather. Her thin, graceful finger sporting a healthy-sized diamond.
Wow, I texted back. Brent have any brothers?
After I sent it, I turned my phone to Justin to show him the picture. “Look. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Mm-hmm.” He sounded like he couldn’t care less. Of course, he was a guy.
With only a moment’s thought, I forwarded the picture to Connor with a simple, Heather’s engaged.
“Can you walk and text?” Justin asked, hoisting my beach chair over one arm. “I’m hungry.”
“All done.” I tucked my phone in my back pocket and forged the sand alongside Justin. “How was work?”
“Fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Hey, you want a job at the hotel? Because I could maybe talk to someone for you.” “Thanks, but no. I don’t need one.”
Justin turned to me, his forehead wrinkled. “You don’t need a job?”
“No.”
“How nice,” he said wryly.
I toyed with the ends of my hair. I’d never had a job before, never needed one, but nobody had ever made me feel bad about it.
“I doubt anyone will want to hire me for just a couple months.” As if otherwise I’d be out there pounding the pavement right now.
The creases in Justin’s forehead deepened. “You said you might stay for school.”
“Yeah, I might.” My ringing cell phone interrupted. I glanced at the display—Connor—and pushed him into voice mail. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s a big decision.”
“If you’re not staying”—Justin stopped walking and faced me—“then what are you doing with me?”
The sun hung golden behind him, silhouetting him against the blue sky. It made it impossible to read his expression. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what’s the point of us starting up something if you’re leaving in August?”
Like hanging together was pointless if I didn’t eventually have a ring on my finger? Hello, what about just having fun?
“We can’t just hang out?” I asked, shifting so I could see his face better.
“We can, I just . . .” He took a deep breath, his gaze intense on my face. “Oh, why not just tell you. I really like you, okay? You’re sweet and fun and beautiful, and I had a great time last night. But I don’t do summer flings. I don’t want to get too involved if you’re leaving.”
“I don’t know if I can just pick up and leave Kansas City.”
“Why not?”
My phone chimed with a voice mail. Connor, presumably. “Well, there’s Abbie and Owen to consider.”
Justin nodded as if thinking about this. “I don’t mean this the way it’s potentially going to come out, but why should Abbie get consideration above what you want? If you can’t leave home now, if you feel too tied down, when will you be able to leave?”
A good point.
“I guess you’re right.” I resumed walking. The conversation had gotten a little too intense, too pointed, for my liking.
“I know it’s hard to make a change,” Justin said, walking with me. “But you made the decision to move to Hawaii, and you should stick with it.”
Before I came, I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that I should be here in Kauai. But now there seemed a thousand reasons to go back. And not just in two months, but on Thursday with the rest of my family. But how could I do that? How could I go home and just give up on reinventing myself?
The counterquestions came unbidden. How could I give up watching Owen grow up? Seeing Heather get married? Leave my sister to fend for herself when I’d said I’d be there?
My phone chirped again and I silenced it. “I just don’t know what’s right.”
But if that was true, why did it aggravate me to hear him say so?
“So, I’ve seen your nephew outside,” Kelli said. “He’s darling.”
“Isn’t he? We’re all crazy about him.”
“I love babies.” She sighed. “Chase thinks it’s weird.”
“They don’t do anything,” Chase said absently. It sounded like an old argument.
Kelli rolled her eyes at me, and I smiled. She reminded me a lot of Heather, very sweet and confident. She’d moved to Hawaii with the guys and lived by herself in what she described as a teeny-tiny shoebox of an apartment. Kelli seemed hungry for friendship, which suited me fine. I’d never had a Christian friend my age. Well, Justin, Chase, and Kelli were two years older, but basically my age.
We’d long ago finished dinner, and now the four of us sat on cheap white chairs on the guys’ rickety wooden patio, watching the sun set. My friends back home would’ve busted out the liquor at a moment like this, but my new friends seemed content with Cokes as they entertained me with stories of back home. Well, “entertained” wasn’t the best word. I had a tough time following some of the stories but appreciated their efforts to include me. They seemed eager to accept me as a new member in their group, and with the warm breeze on my face and no pressures to light up or doctor my Coke, joining them sounded good to me as well.
I pushed back from the table. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall and on the right,” Justin said.
“And don’t worry,” Kelli said. “It’s clean. I made sure.”
I wound my way through the guys’ house, which was small and creaky like my grandparents’, only with sparse furniture and excessive electronics. They had no couch or dining room table, but there were two stereo systems and a TV that took up nearly an entire wall.
As Kelli promised, I found the bathroom clean. I washed my hands with off-brand soap that smelled of gummy bears and dried them on what had clearly been one of their mom’s old dish towels—red gingham printed with green peppers. Soon, this might be my life too—skimping on soap and using castaway towels. Maybe living with Kelli. Working a lousy job or two.
So Over It Page 6