Page 113 of Last on the List
“What?” I gasp, grabbing his suit coat and pulling him toward me, panic dotting my eyes as he pulls away from me. “You just kissed me.”
“It was a goodbye kiss.” He grips my hands and uncurls my desperate hold on him, piercing my heart with the horrible realization that I’ve ruined any chance we had. “This was never the part that was broken.” He pins me with a look that silently says…it was you.
“Why do you seem sad today, Cozy?” Everly asks, stretched out on a towel in the sand by the creek.
“What makes you think I’m sad?” I push my sunglasses into my hair and peer down at her from my seat on the Adirondack chair.
“’Cuz every time you look at me, you get tears in your eyes.” Everly blinks those baby-blue eyes at me, and my eyes start stinging again.
“Allergies,” I scoff and turn to wipe my eyes.
I only have two more days with Everly, and she’s a perceptive little thing because she’s right. I have been crying every time I look at her today. I’m sad my time with her is coming to an end. And the worst part is, I can’t even tell her that tomorrow is our last day together because then I would ruin her mom’s surprise.
Everly turns her attention back to the friendship bracelet she’s making, and I smile as she sticks her tongue out in concentration. Does this kid have any idea how much she’s done for me this summer? A few months ago, I was dreading walking into that boardroom to interview for a nanny position I didn’t want. I didn’t want to step foot in another office, and I wasn’t ready to start punching a proverbial clock again. But my sister was desperate, and I was running low on funds.
So I begrudgingly showed up.
Then I had one conversation with my little Sea Monster, and I was a goner. So much so, I would have been devastated if I didn’t get the job.
This little girl has brought me back to the land of the living in a way I never even imagined. Nothing in my life has been quite as fulfilling as being a part of Everly’s existence. It’s been an honor.
“Did you like our summer of ‘doing less,’ little Sea Monster?” I croak, my voice revealing my emotions more than I expected it to.
“Uh…obviously,” she replies with a flick of her wrist, and I have to bite my lip because she has been mimicking a lot of my mannerisms this summer and the narcissistic pride I feel when she acts like me is totally shameful.
“Why exactly?” I ask, wanting to make sure I suck as much Everly goodness out of her while I still can. “I mean…your parents had you in a lot of cool activities. Was there a reason you were excited to just chillax with me instead of doing all those activities with your friends?”
Everly looks up at me and wrinkles her nose. “I was in the car too much.”
“What do you mean?” I inquire with a laugh at that odd response.
“Between going to Mom’s and going to Dad’s and then back to Mom’s and then to gymnastics and then to swim team and then to school and back again. It just felt like I was staring at the back of my mom’s and dad’s heads all the time. And I like their faces. I especially like my dad’s when he’s just being normal.”
“What do you mean normal?” I ask, my chest aching at the thought of not seeing Max’s face anymore after I move out this weekend. So many damn emotions going on in my body today.
“I like Dad’s face when he’s just goofing around with me on the couch or asking me how I like my oatmeal. Or when he kisses me on the head before he leaves for work. Like just comfy stuff, you know?”
“Yeah…I think I do.” My smile is tender. “Do you miss going to any of your activities?”
“Sometimes,” she answers with a shrug. “I’ll probably go back and do some of the stuff because I kind of get tired of reading all the time. And imagination tennis is fun and all, but no offense, Cozy…you’re not as good at tennis as me, and I want to play someone who’s at my level.”
My belly shakes with the chortle that catches me completely off guard. “In my mind…I’m as good as the Williams sisters.”
“In my mind, you need some practice.” Everly giggles, and it makes me want to cry again. “So yeah, I think I want to go back to doing some stuff but just not all. I want to be medium busy.”
“Medium busy,” I repeat with a nod. “Sounds like a good balance.”
I try not to take it personally that an eleven-year-old might have a stronger grip on her mental health boundaries than I do.
“Yours is done!” Everly squeals and jumps up onto her feet to walk over to me. That tongue is sticking out again as she ties the bracelet in a knot around my wrist. She holds her wrist next to mine and smiles at our matching set. “Friends forever.”
“Friends forever,” I cry and then whoosh all the air out of her lungs when I yank her to my chest for a hug.
It’s too tight, it’s much too tight, but she’s still breathing, so she can take it. This child is one of a kind, and I will never forget how special she is.
My phone rings just as Everly begins gasping for breath. “You really like friendship bracelets!” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m going to make Dad one now.”
She goes back to her work area as I glance down at my phone to see an unknown number. This might be the guy whose house I’m trying to rent, so I better answer it.
