Page 47 of This Kind of Forever
“I love her,” she says. “She’s so funny, and I love the way she sees the world. And she’s so caring. You and Larissa are great parents, Gabe. I’ve always thought you’d make a great dad.”
Emotions I can’t quite explain wash over me. A mix of pride and feeling validated, maybe. “Thank you. I figured I’d have a family one day. Didn’t exactly expect it to start the way it did, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
A comfortable silence settles between us as Hallie continues to eat. It feels familiar, the way it used to be when we were teenagers. We’re far from the people we were then, but I catchglimpses every so often that remind me of a time when it was just me and her, and an infinite amount of possibilities.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Hallie laughs as she swipes another fry through her chipotle. “What?”
I nudge her free hand. “Don’t think about it too hard. What do you want to be?”
Her lips purse. “Content,” she finally says. “I want to be content.”
“You deserve that.” And so much more.
“Your turn, then. What do you want to be?”
I remember back in high school, it felt like whatever path you set for yourself then was the one you’d be walking for the rest of your life. Like you had to have everything figured out at eighteen. But as I creep closer to thirty, I can confidentially say that’s bullshit.
“I don’t know yet,” I reply.
Hallie’s expression is warm. Gentle. “That used to scare you.”
Does she remember that night I called her at sixteen, worrying I wouldn’t amount to anything meaningful? Because I do. I stayed on the phone until she fell asleep, talking about nothing of importance. I knew she was scared of storms back then, but I hadn’t known the extent of her fears. I don’t think she realizes how much she helped me that night, too.
“I’m learning to be okay with it.”
Hallie finishes her food just as the employees start mopping up, getting ready to close. We clear off the table and head outside, where the air has grown noticeably colder. Hallie laughs as she hurries to the passenger side of my truck, tugging on the handle while she shivers. I unlock it, and she slips inside the cab.
When I’m seated beside her, she turns to me. “Thanks for feeding me. You’re…a really good friend, Gabe.”
Friend. There’s that fucking word again.
I swallow my distaste, but I tell her truthfully, “I’d do just about anything for you, Foster.”
And I would. More than I want her to be mine, I want Hallie to be happy. So if I have to pretend to be her fiancé or find a way to wrangle the stars into submission just so she can see them up close, I’ll do it with a smile.
EIGHTEEN
HALLIE
Caitlyn
Here are the wedding details! Seriously no pressure, but I’d love to have you there.
The gallery is so quiet,I can hear the clock ticking on the wall. I worry my bottom lip as my thumb hovers over my keyboard. I’ve typed ten messages and deleted them all.
As it turns out, figuring out what to text your half sister who you just met for the first time the night before is no easy task. I tend to overthink on a good day, but right now? I’m way out of my element. I need a step-by-step guide, but unfortunately, I don’t think one exists.
The sound of the front door opening startles me. I quickly lock my phone and set it aside. I’ll force myself to reply later, when I can read the message a hundred times to check for embarrassing typos.
A moment later, a redheaded woman steps inside. I don’t recognize her, so she’s either a tourist or someone that has moved to the island in the last ten years. My guess is tourist—one of the last of the season, now that we’re closing in on November.
“Hi,” she says when she sees me. “I’m looking for some postcards. Do you have any?”
Definitely a tourist.
I take a breath, putting on the mask I wear when interacting with customers. It’s me, only not. This version of Hallie is much more outgoing, and by the time I get home after work, I’m exhausted from having to maintain it.
