Page 38 of Everything We Give

Nadia opens her mouth only to close it and slowly shake her head. She looks past me and my heart sinks.

“You like him,” I say. She once had a crush on Thomas, but that was in high school.

“No. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then, what is it?”

Her lips press paper-thin flat. She puts away her phone. “I can’t discuss the specifics, or why I took on the project. Besides, I doubt anything I say right now will make you understand.”

“Try me.” My phone pings and I hold a flat palm in front of her face to stop her from talking. “Forget it. I don’t want to hear. I can’t even ...” My words fall away. I need a moment to collect myself. I need Ian.

I look at my phone and read through a series of messages from him.

I’m on the red-eye to JFK out of SFO. Flying to Spain tomorrow AM. Here’s my flight info.

I’m at the airport waiting to board.

Boarding the plane now.

Are you getting these?

Are you angry?

You’re angry.

I’m sorry, Aimee, baby. The timing sucks, but I’ve got to do this. I’m sick of it hanging over my head. Can you forgive me?

I’ll call when I land. I love you. Sweet dreams, darling.

My heart breaks. I shouldn’t have listened to Nadia. I should have gotten into that elevator. I should have called him. Ian’s left and I didn’t even get the chance to say good-bye.

“I can’t deal with you right now,” I say to her and walk off.

“Where’re you going?”

“Spain,” I yell over my shoulder. Then I flip her the bird.

CHAPTER 11

AIMEE

It’s past midnight when I arrive home with Caty. My mother offered dinner when I told her I hadn’t eaten, and while I ate, my father remarked that Ian had swung by on his way to the airport to say good-bye to Caty.

“Daddy’s going to see the ponies again,” Caty said, scooting into the chair beside me with a bowl of ice cream. It was after nine p.m. and a school night. I tossed my mother an accusatory look. She shrugged a shoulder and returned the carton to the freezer.

“He’s going to take some pictures for me.” Caty dipped her spoon into her chocolate chip cookie dough.

“I can’t wait to see them,” I told her, wishing I’d made a point to have Ian show me the ones he’d taken this past summer.

By the time I’d finished eating, Caty had fallen asleep on the couch. I couldn’t call Ian as he wasn’t due to land for several more hours, and by then I’d be off in la-la land. We won’t have a chance to talk until the morning before the second leg of his flight, so I stayed and chatted with my parents about the pros and cons of the café’s expansion. They’d spent decades working in the restaurant industry and I valued their advice, even though it wasn’t anything I hadn’t already heard. What were my priorities?

Family, obviously. But more important, they told me to do what I love, not what I thought I needed to do.

Hmm. Sounds familiar.

Caty stirs in my arms when I close and lock the front door. I let her slide to her feet where she sways from weariness. Hands on her shoulders, I steer her through the house to her room. She changes into her pajamas in autopilot mode and crawls up her bed, flopping on top of the pillows. I kiss her forehead and return to the entryway where I left my purse. I need to charge my phone. I also want to respond to Ian’s messages with one of my own.

Worried about you. Miss you. Call me when you land. OK to wake me.

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