Page 47 of The Fate Factor

“Oh, I don’t know. They told me, but it was Greek to me. You wouldn’t believe how expensive everything is out here. I thought Connecticut was bad. Anyway, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it. You know that.”

My shoulders sink, though they have no right. I was hoping for a call and I knew it would be for something like this. I’ve never said no to her, so it’s my own fault she feels entitled to it. And really, what kind of daughter would let her mother break down in the desert with Dennis?

“I’ll Venmo you,” I tell her, wincing on behalf of my bank account.

A strand of her hair blows in front of her sunglasses, and she wipes it away. “Thank you. I can always count on you. My beautiful daughter.”

“Right.” I swallow hard and turn to dump the water from my brushes down the sink. “So, after you’re done in California…”

“Oh, who knows. I’m having the time of my life. It’s so different from the East Coast. You should see the sunsets, Noel. The colors. It’s magic.”

“I’ve seen a sunset, Mom.” I’m being a brat, but it’s the wordmagicthat pricks at me. I don’t like it from her. Not when I’m currently chasing magic of my own. Just like I didn’t like it when Jamie called my sabbatical an adventure—it’s a reminder of the way I’m teetering on the edge of something I promised not to be.

“Honey, I have to go. Dennis wants to get to this rock and roll museum he read about on Trip Advisor before it closes. Or before the engine on this thing conks out. Talk soon, okay?”

“Wait. Can you give me a time when you’ll call, Mom? We need to sort—”

“Of course, yes,” she says, just as static appears on the line, distorting the promise. “Have fun at Nana’s!”

The video stops and I let out a huff of frustration. What could her end game possibly be at this point? Does she honestly think this is her new life? She doesn’t even have a job. She quit it to go on this trip.

I’m still staring at the blank screen when it lights with a text, and the pendulum swing of emotion nearly knocks me off my feet when I see Jamie’s picture.

Right. Magic.

Jamie: I have an idea.

I know I’m not getting the details, so I send him an equally vague response.

Noel: …

Jamie: I’ll pick you up in half an hour.

There’s a mess of paper and paint all over the kitchen, all over me. That won’t work.

Noel: Give me a whole one?

Jamie: Deal.

fifteen

Jamie

It’shardtotopthe farm. That’s what I tell myself as Noel and I make our way down an unusually busy Commercial Street, dodging tourists with laminated badges hanging around their necks. She’s in front of me, walking single file so we can squeeze through the crowded sidewalk more easily, which means I can’t even talk to her. This was not at all what I had in mind when I texted her.

Yesterday in my truck, when she’d asked if I wanted to hang out again, I’d put together a whole plan in my head. I thought we could walk the cobblestones, breathe in the fall ocean air. I figured there’d be a band playing on the deck of at least one of the waterfront restaurants, and I could buy her dinner, give myself the same bullshit “this is practically a business meeting”reminder while looking at her under the string lights and setting sun.

But my plan’s been ruined by a cruise ship docked at the pier and a lighthouse tour bus that’s stopped in town for lobster rolls. When the hostess at the third place we tried said it would be an hour for a table, she might as well have kicked me. We ended up splitting some poutine and a couple of sodas from the takeout counter of a seafood place.

If it had been a date, it would have been a pretty shitty one, and I’m starting to realize that might be the reason I’m so pissed about it.

Our path clears enough that I can step to her side again, tuck her between me and the buildings that line the water. “So, did you paint my hops?” I ask, shamelessly bringing up yesterday as a reminder that I’m still one for two in the good idea department.

“Mmhmm.”

I want to ask her when I can see them, but there’s a prickly edge to her tonight, something nervous and stiff. I haven’t known her that long but in my job, you get to read people pretty well, and right now, normally sweet and timid Noel is a little pissy.

And I’m irrationally annoyed at the city for not somehow being on better behavior, as if everyone should part around us so I can stand as close to her as I’d hoped when I made this plan.

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