Page 47 of Meet Me in the Valley
The answer isn’t clear. Another layer of confusion to disrupt my fucked-up brain today. But I’m grateful to Roy, smiling at him with an outstretched hand.
“Thank you, Roy. This means a lot. I have a lot to consider and couldn’t make this decision without your help.”
He flashes a full-toothed smile. It’s warm and inviting, not at all the cutthroat persona he parades in front of stakeholders and underperforming employees. Standing here with Roy’s hand firmly clasped around my palm, I think back to that bright-eyed architect. I’ve come a long way under Roy’s wing—and if there’s one ounce of positivity today, it’s an appreciation for how far I’ve come in this career.
“You got it, Harper. See you tonight for drinks, yeah? God knows we need it after the day we’re having, eh?”
You got that right, boss.
“I’ll be there.”
I’m already counting down the hours until I can drown this mess in whiskey and getherout of my head.
Once and for all.
Chapter Fourteen
TIA
You know how they say that smells and sounds can be deeply tied to memories? It’s always amazed me how true that is, how every time I hear the whirr of coffee beans grinding and the decadent scent they give off once freshly ground, my memory always trails back to my mother’s kitchen. Back to the house I grew up in.
It’s Dad grinding his dark-roast beans every morning, often waking me before my alarm. And then my favorite part—the scent of coffee wafting through the gap under my door and Mom’s laugh at whatever stupid thing Dad said.
But my heart falters at the memory as I sit here in a corner booth at Sip & Savor with Audrey, my mind wandering back toher.
Followed by Mom’s laughter would be the sound of a door opening, tired footsteps dragging in the hallway outside my door, then the soft pattering of water hitting the shower floor. Then the god awful singing. I mean, singing so bad, I’m sure the morning birds intentionally flew headfirst into the nearest window.
“What’s got you smiling over there?” Audrey prods, grinning against the lip of her oversized coffee mug.
“Nora.”
Saying her name alone is enough to make my heart race, sending blood rushing to my head—I focus intently on breathing to get through the lightheadedness.
Compartmentalizing has always been my thing. Sure, it may not be the healthiest way to deal with shit, but it helps me deal anyway. My mind has a near-perfect system. There’s a box for every decision, event, and emotion in my life.
But as of late, everything up in the noggin is complete goo. Sticky, slimy, unforgiving goo that’s seeped into every crevice of my brain, turning it into mush.
My compartments have been compromised, and I’m facing the unknown, unable to grab hold of the control console I’m supposed to navigate with ease.
It’s all gone to shit.
Where do I put my mom’s dying brain, Nora’s whereabouts, my career, and now Logan? Where do they all fit? I can’t find a way to sort it all, and it has me reeling.
The heat from my coffee mug burns around my palms, almost alarmingly hot. I should remove my hands. But instead, I squeeze around the mug tighter, welcoming the burn until it becomes too much to bear.
“You ready for tomorrow?” Audrey asks.
Am I?What a loaded question. It’s not just tomorrow. It’s the unknown of how my days in Vegas will unfold. Logan thought of everything—like buying me a one-way ticket because who knows how long I’ll stay, or how long it’ll take to convince her to come back home.
Then there’s the sobering thought that I could touch down in Vegas and have to turn right back around. My stomach churns, knowing this may not be worth it. Knowing I’ll have gone for nothing.
But I can’t think that way. I’m not ready, but I need to be.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Nora was always so cool—in that mysterious, quiet-type way. The way she dressed, the music she listened to,” Audrey muses, causing me to smile at the way she remembers my big sister. “Remember when we would secretly raid her closet when she was at dance? And we’d constantly check the time so we could put everything back the way we found it.” We both laugh at the memory. Full of nostalgia for a much simpler time in our lives. Before everything got murky. For both of us.
“She was never annoyed with us, though. Even when she had to pick us up from the movies or the mall two towns over,” I say wistfully, getting lost in the memory and feeling hopeful for a chance to reconnect with Nora.
