The following Wednesday I sit across from Kitty. She looks like her normal self, at least the normal self that I’ve become accustomed to. Her makeup is flawless and makes her face look slightly wider with the highlights she’s carefully applied¸ though it’s hard for me to erase how sallow her cheeks are without it. Her eyes look more vibrant with the eye liner and taupe eye shadow, and her hair that I now know is in fact a wig is perfect as always.
I wait for her to ask me the same question that she’s been asking me for months now: How am I doing?
“Are you going to ask me?” she finally asks, looking at me patiently, but sounding terse.
“Ask you what?”
“You know what.” Her head cocks to the side, silently daring me.
“I’m going home … well to California for a couple of weeks,” I state. Kitty looks at me, her eyes widening with surprise and I nod in confirmation. “My sister Jenny is getting married. She wants me to attend her shower, and bachelorette party, and stuff.”
“Do you want to attend them?”
“Yeah, I mean, I really like her fiancé, Adam, and I’m truly happy for them.”
“Are you concerned?”
I don’t bother playing dumb. We both know she’s referring to my mom, my dad, and Max—my own personal Bermuda Triangle. I clench my teeth and feel the edges of my lips grow tight as I give her a brief nod of confirmation. “I’m not sure that I’m ready to see any of them, but I’m also terrified to not see them.”
Kitty nods in understanding.
The hour is spent with more long and uncomfortable pauses stretched between brief sentences than what we experienced in the first month that I saw Kitty. When the long hand of the clock finally lands on the twelve, I rise from me seat and watch as Kitty does the same.
“You can’t hide from the sun. It will continue to rise even if you refuse to open your eyes,” are her parting words as I head toward my car.
I run my hand across my lap, smoothing my jeans from my seat on the plane. I’m not afraid to fly, not in the slightest. In fact, I took a course on aerodynamics because I’ve always had an affinity for them.
As I wiggle and resituate in my seat for the umpteenth time, I notice the woman across from my aisle seat giving me a long, sideways glance. My unease and nerves are becoming contagious. I open the package of motion sickness pills that claim to cause drowsiness and read the dosage recommended as I discreetly show her the package as an explanation for my restlessness. She sits back and I swallow the recommended amount, plus one for good measure. The guy beside me had pulled out the same pack of pills just a few moments ago, and is already starting to blink heavier.
An hour later, the man beside me is snoring—loudly. It’s a ridiculously obnoxious snore that periodically stirs him from his sleep and keeps causing annoyed glances to be shot in our direction. As his short, chubby arms fly out—nearly impaling me once again—followed by a snort that’s so loud it causes his own eyes to flutter open with a dazed and confused expression, I’m tempted to inform him that I’m pretty sure he has sleep apnea. He’s done this a half dozen times now, waking himself up just long enough to resituate in his seat and resume snoring. This time, his eyes aren’t open for more than a couple of seconds before his head lolls to the side again.
My eyes narrow into a glare, despising the fact that I’m still awake, thinking and re-thinking about if I’ll see Max, and what I’ll say to Max, and what Max might say to me, if he’ll speak to me … will Max speak to me?
When we land in San Diego, I shoot off a quick text to Fitz and Danny and grip my bag and purse from under the seat. I attempt to make it to the aisle before everyone begins stirring with their luggage that in no way constitutes a carry-on bag.
Our flight stops on the tarmac with an exit that allows us to walk outside and through a tented gate to the airport. When I file down the stairs, the warm sun pours down on me, providing me my first feeling of warmth in months. My heart hammers with anticipation as I follow the people in front of me through the airport to the baggage claim while the odd desire to search everyone’s face consumes me.
“Ace!”
I turn my head and instantly see Kendall running toward me, her blond hair curled in familiar waves. She engulfs me in a hug and rocks us back and forth as her arms stay locked around me.
“How was the flight?” Her hands slide down my arms.
“Good,” I lie.
Kendall smiles hopefully, still holding my wrists, and then hugs me once more. When she releases her hold on me, Jameson steps up so I don’t have to consider if it will be weird to hug my ex-boyfriend’s best friend and tightly holds me against his chest.
“It’s really good to see you, Ace.”
I stare out at the bright sun for a long moment, until the tears he caused to brim my eyes pass as I hug him back.
“Let’s go get your bags,” he says softly.
Since Christmas, I’ve been talking more with all of my sisters, especially Kendall. I’d tell her a little about different projects that I was working on and theories. I told her about Fitz and our trips to New York, Boston, and D.C. In turn, I heard about her new job and about Jameson and how things were going. Like the good sister that she is, she never mentioned Max, nor our mother’s impending nuptials. A couple of times we’d be chatting and I’d hear Max’s voice and one of us would quickly end the conversation, though I secretly yearned for those moments. Just to hear his voice from a distance made me feel somehow better for a short period.
“I thought Savannah was coming. I’m sorry you guys have to go out of your way to bring me there,” I say, swinging my purse higher on my arm.
“What?” Jameson asks, looking puzzled.
“Yeah, what? It’s not any trouble!” Kendall answers with a laugh. I can tell she’s lying about something. Kendall’s a good liar, but she has a tendency to tuck her hair behind her ear when she lies, and she’s just tucked it on both sides.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, let’s get your bags!”
Jameson gives me a tight smile and reaches for my small carry-on, wrapping his free arm around my sister’s shoulders.
Once my bags are in the trunk and Kendall and I are seated in the back, Jameson pulls away from the curb, cutting someone off. Their horn blares, making my neck muscles tighten.
“California drivers! I swear,” Jameson grumbles.
My head falls against the seat with a silent laugh as Kendall shakes her head.
“So, how are things going with at the lab?” Kendall asks, looking genuine, but rehearsed as she tucks her hair behind her ears again.
“What are you not telling me?” I ask, sitting up straighter as I carefully watch the shock dissipate from her face.
“Before I tell you, I need you to know that it’s not a big deal. And I need you to promise me that you’ll listen.”
“I’m going to regret coming, aren’t I?” I groan, looking up at the roof of the car as I realize how hot I feel with my layers of clothing and the sun pouring through the windows.
“It’s not a big deal! Seriously.”
“Can you wait to tell me until we’re at Savannah’s? Let’s be honest, she breaks bad news better than you.”
“You can’t stay with Savannah. Caulder got diagnosed with viral meningitis and Savannah is freaking out and having the entire house professionally cleaned. She and Sawyer are staying with mom.”
“Okay, then take me to Mindi’s. I know family will be staying there, but I can sleep on the floor, it’s no big deal.”
“No one’s staying there anymore. They’re staying at mom’s right now too because it turns out their house has been a breeding ground for mice and termites and is currently being fumigated as we speak to prepare for the … what is it called?”
“Structural restoration,” Jameson offers, keeping his focus on the road.