I laughed in spite of myself. “All of that,” I said. “And also because I love you guys and don’t want to see you rush into anything that might…” I whirled my hand around, searching for the right word. “…jeopardize what you have.”
She reached over to pet Leo, who’d stationed himself by her side. “I get what you’re saying, and we love you too. A lot of people care about you, Rob.” She knocked her knee against mine until I looked up at her. “Let them,” she said firmly.
Faces flashed through my head like a slideshow: the twins, Taylor and Michael, Steve and Lynn, Wade, Jane…and Ryan and Mason. These last two faces were the ones I saw most clearly.
People care. Let them.
“I’ll try,” I told her. “I promise.”
“Good.” She drew a long, deep breath through her nose, as if cleansing the air between us. “Now. Moving on. I know it’s a year away, and I don’t even have a ring yet, but you have to promise me you’re going to help me plan this wedding. I can handle the dress shopping, but I don’t know anything about hiring photographers or ordering flowers or any of that kind of stuff. And what will I do with my hair?”
“Don’t worry,” I said, suddenly inspired. “I just happen to know an amazing hair and makeup stylist.”
This was stretching the truth a bit…I’d never actually seen any samples of Nicole’s work, but she was always busy and had clients booking months in advance. I figured a year would be enough notice. All I could do was hope she wouldn’t knock me unconscious before I could ask.
“Well, I’d better get going,” Taylor said, giving Leo one last pat before standing up. “Michael will be home from work soon.”
As usual, her eyes softened as she said his name. It amazed me that the mere thought of him could still make her react that way after almost five years together, but I could sort of understand it now. Some guys just had that effect.
Alone again, I gave the dog a quick scratch under the ears and then headed upstairs to shower. As I trudged to the bathroom, my body sore from both my workout and the fierce, forgiving hug Taylor had given me before she left, my cell phone chimed in my purse. I paused on the stairs and dug it out, glancing at the screen. Unknown number. This was the fourth time this week that I’d received an anonymous call on my cell, and they were all the same.
But this time, when I said hello only to be greeted by a long stretch of silence, I didn’t hang up right away. Instead, I stayed on the line and waited. I heard nothing aside from the occasional click or burst of static but I knew, somehow, that I wasn’t alone.
“Mom?” I said finally, and the instant the word left my mouth, the phone went dead.
I hung up and quickly hit redial, but all I got was the harsh, continuous beep of a busy signal. I hung up a second time and scrolled through my contacts, searching for a name I hadn’t seen or thought about in a long time. Surprisingly, he answered on the first ring.
“Alan,” I said, continuing up the stairs to my room. “Have you heard from my mother at all?”
“Your mother? No, not since June. Why?”
I told him about the anonymous calls I’d been receiving on my cell. “I think it’s her,” I said, sitting on the bed. “Maybe she misses the twins and wants to come home.”
“I think it’s possible that she misses the twins,” he said after a pause. “But I don’t think she wants to come home. That woman is not cut out to be a parent. You should know that even better than me.” He cleared his throat. “I’d be surprised if it was her, calling you. She abandoned her two small children, left them without a mother. Somehow I doubt that she was hit with a sudden case of remorse.”
I opened my mouth to snap at him but then closed it again when I realized he was right. My God. Alan was right. “What would you do if she did come back?” I asked instead. “Would you ever forgive her?”
He made a scoffing noise. “Hardly. She’s made her bed.”
He didn’t ask me the same question, and I was glad. I didn’t know what I’d do when—or if—my mother ever came home. Maybe I’d be like Jane, neutral and forgiving. Or maybe I’d be like Alan, bitter to the end. In a lot of ways he wasn’t any better than she was, but if I could say one thing for him, he’d made sure his children were safe and taken care of, even if he didn’t see them often himself.
“I heard you visited the twins on Saturday,” he said, reading my mind.
“Yeah.” I glanced over at the nightstand, where I’d placed the framed picture of the kids as babies that I’d taken from the Redwood Hills house the day Alan told me where Mom was. “I figured it was time.”
“They’re the ones who told me about it,” he said. “Drake and Lila. Your visit was all they could talk about when I called them on Sunday. They were happy to see you.”
My heart warmed, imagining this. They talked about me. Remembered me.
“They want you to come back,” he went on in his investment banker voice, emotionless and all business. “I’m in California for the next week, but I made plans to visit them next weekend. I want to take them to the beach or something. Maybe you could drive up for the day and go with us. They’d love that.”
“I’d love that, too,” I said. I felt tears gather in my eyes and almost laughed. I’d never cried happy tears while talking to my stepfather before. I’d also never voluntarily spent time in his presence before. But, as I was learning, people could endure almost anything if the end reward was seeing the faces they loved.
Chapter 30
I’d never been inside Nicole’s apartment before, but I knew she lived downtown in an old, restored townhouse near the park. I’d driven past it twice already this week, trying to gather the nerve to stop and knock on her door.
Finally, on late Sunday morning, I saw her walking down the sidewalk toward home, plastic shopping bags looped around her hands. Quickly, I parked my Nissan in the first vacant spot I saw, fed the meter, and walked up to the house. Strangely, I was almost as nervous standing in front of her door than I’d been standing in front of the grandparents’ last weekend. Tamping down my anxiety, I flicked some hair off my face and rang her doorbell.
Minutes passed, and I began to wonder if I’d seen her at all. But then the door flew open and there she stood, wearing ripped denim shorts, a low-cut tank top that showed off a new, still-pink tattoo of a dragonfly below her collarbone, and a look of utter disgust on her face.
“Seriously?” she said.
I shifted uncomfortably on the step. “Sorry for dropping in like this, but I have a question to ask you.”
“The answer is yes,” she replied immediately. “You do have a death wish.”
“Nicole.” I said her name like Jane did when she was scolding her daughter for being snarky. It worked, because Nicole rolled her eyes and moved aside to let me in.
“Make it quick,” she said. “And good.”
I stepped into the entryway and looked around. The inside of the house was deceptively big. Each of the three floors had been sectioned off into apartments, and Nicole’s was on the main floor. She led me inside and shut the door behind us, then headed to the kitchen area without a backward glance. I trailed after her, still looking around. The place was small but bright, the rooms artfully decorated with colorful rugs and accents. It was adorable and cozy, and completely unlike what I imagined Nicole’s tastes to be.
“I like your apartment,” I told her, watching her flit around the tiny kitchen, unpacking shopping bags and putting things in cupboards. She kept her icy blue eyes focused pointedly away from me and didn’t respond. I felt like I was in that hotel room with Ryan all over again.
“So what’s your question?” she asked as she opened her small fridge and stuck a carton of orange juice inside.
I opened my mouth to ask her about doing Taylor’s hair and makeup for her wedding, but to my surprise, different words tumbled out in their place. “I love your brother. I’m in love with him.”
She didn’t even turn around. “That didn’t
sound like a question.”
My cheeks hot, I inched further into the kitchen and stopped next to the stove. “I mean, I think I am, anyway. I’ve never actually been in love with anyone before.”
“Really?” she asked, looking at me with grudging interest. Then she cleared her throat and turned back to her groceries. “Well, you don’t act like it. Usually, when you’re in love with someone, you don’t rub your tits all over someone else at a club.”
“I never said I was good at it.”
She snorted, then quickly shut the fridge and turned away, as if she didn’t want me to see that I’d amused her.
“Do you think I still have a chance with him?” I asked, realizing right after I said it that this was the question I’d really come here to ask.
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” She finished with the groceries and leaned her hip against the counter, facing me. “Ryan’s a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean he’s a pushover. I think he learned his lesson the last time.” She grimaced, and I knew she was talking about Ryan’s ex and how many chances he’d given her before finally saying enough.
“Do you think I’m like Chelsea?”
“What, do I think you’re an epic train wreck?” She crossed her arms and studied me from beneath her lashes. “Well, I’ll admit I was pissed when I found out Ryan was driving you four hours to see your brother and sister after the way you treated him. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was doing it no matter what anyone said. He’s like that…he can put aside his feelings when the situation calls for it. Our mom’s like that too, fair and compassionate. That particular gene skipped me entirely.” Her lips curled into a faint smile. “Anyway, I don’t know you well enough to say for sure, but from what I’ve seen so far…no, you’re not like Chelsea. You make Ryan laugh—or at least you did at one point—and my entire family loves you. And you’re better with Mason.”
“I am?” That was probably the best thing she’d ever said to me.
“By ‘better’ I mean present. You spend time with him, interact with him. And I can’t imagine you ever being stupid enough to drive drunk with him in the car.” She patted the new dragonfly tattoo on her chest, as if it itched and she was trying not to scratch. “I never liked that woman. Ryan deserved better. Deserves better,” she amended, meeting my eyes.
I nodded. She had my full agreement there. “So are you going to break my spleen?” I asked, remembering the unwavering force of her gaze that night in the washroom at Fusion, when she cautioned me against breaking her brother’s heart.
“Depends,” she said, crossing her arms. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
The air between us felt clearer, so I brought up the possibility of hiring her to work on Taylor. “Do you have a portfolio or something?” I asked, completely ignorant in the ways of professional hair and makeup styling.
“I can do better than that,” she said, moving over to the small, two-seat table and pulling out a chair. “Sit.”
I obeyed and she left the room, returning a moment later with a large black case. She placed it on the table and opened it, revealing more makeup than I’d ever seen outside of a drug store.
“Using me as your demo?” I asked, eyeing her warily as she grabbed a pack of makeup remover wipes and plucked one out.
She tilted my face up and began wiping it down. “I’ve wanted to get at this face since the first time I laid eyes on it. You wear a bit too much makeup, you know. You don’t need it.” She leaned back to examine me. “Close your eyes.”
I did as I was told, wincing as the cold wipe made contact with my eyelids. Up close, she smelled like peach-scented body lotion mixed with the astringent scent of the wipes. I sat still and silent, relaxing somewhat once I realized she wasn’t going to stab me in the eye with an eyebrow pencil. Maybe she didn’t completely hate me anymore.
“So,” I said, her deft, gentle touch making me feel brave. “How are they doing? Mason and Ryan.”
She didn’t answer right away. I opened my eyes to peek at her face, but all I could see was her firm focus on the task at hand. “They’re okay,” she finally replied. “They miss you. Everyone does. It’s been a tough summer, you know, with Uncle Kenny…You made it a little brighter. Especially for Ryan.”
I’d thought her earlier comment about Mason was the best thing she’d ever said to me, but no. This was. “Thank you,” I said, shutting my eyes again.
We were both quiet for a while as she worked on my face. The vibe between us felt less and less hostile as the minutes ticked by. I’d never seen Nicole this way before, so proficient and absorbed, like each flaw she concealed with her liquids and powders erased some of her aggression toward me as well. It was like she was trying to reshape me.
“I’m pretty sure he loves you too,” she said suddenly as she coated my lashes. My eyes popped open, causing her hand to jerk back, mascara wand in mid-air.
“Sorry,” I said, closing them again. She resumed coating. “What makes you think that?”
“Actually, I don’t think it,” she mumbled, distracted. “I know it. You should’ve seen his face that night I showed up at his apartment to tell him you were at Fusion with another guy. He was crushed. Like, seriously upset. I’d never seen him like that before, even when he was with Chelsea. And when he wanted to go and confront you…” She sighed and tossed the mascara back into the case. “I tried to talk him out of that one too, but as usual, he did what he wanted. I said you weren’t even worth it, but…he obviously disagreed.”
I watched her sift through a stack of makeup brushes. “I was an idiot,” I said.
“You were,” she agreed, choosing a small brush and a nude-colored lipstick. “And because you realize you were an idiot, and clearly feel bad about being an idiot, then yes, I do think you have a chance.”
She was busy painting my lips at the moment, so I let out a breath through my nose. “Should I go see him?” I asked when she paused to survey her work.
“Why are you asking me?” She shrugged and brushed on some more lip color. “Okay, maybe,” she replied a beat later. “But if I were you I’d ambush him, like you did to me earlier. If you’d called first? I never would’ve let you come over. Ryan’s like me in that way…sometimes he needs to be caught by surprise.”
Well, I did love to surprise him. “Got it.”
“Why don’t you come to dinner at my parents’ later? Everyone would love to see you. I won’t tell Ryan you’re coming.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, hesitant. I hadn’t been there since the anniversary party, and I wasn’t sure how I’d be received. Maybe the entire family shared Nicole’s opinions about me. Maybe they all thought I was an idiot.
Nicole straightened up and dug a round mirror out of her case of treasures. “Done,” she said, handing it to me.
I peered at my reflection and immediately smiled. She was good. I looked like me, only amplified. The change was subtle but noticeable, and yet she’d somehow succeeded in making me look like I wasn’t wearing any makeup at all. “You’re hired,” I told her.
“Sweet.” She extracted a business card from a pocket at the back of her case and passed it to me. “Tell your friend to call me when she has a wedding date.”
I nodded and stood up, sliding the card into the side pocket of my purse. I knew I was supposed to say good-bye to her now, apologize for taking up her time, and leave her to do whatever she’d planned on doing before I showed up at her door, but I didn’t want to leave. Not yet. The little apartment was cheerful and cozy, a combination of the welcoming domesticity of her parents’ house, the homey warmth of Ryan’s apartment, and something else. Something that was hers alone.
I looked over at Nicole as she packed up her makeup case with the neatness and speed of someone who treasured her belongings and knew exactly where everything was supposed to go.
“Hey, Nicole?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you by any chance looking for a roommate?”
<
br /> * * *
I glanced into the rear view mirror to see if my makeup was still in place, and was pleased to see that it was. Nicole, in her infinite wisdom, knew all the tricks involved in making my new face last.
I climbed out of the car and walked up to the Monahans’ house, all the while rethinking this whole ambush plan. Nicole was probably right, though—if I called him and told him I was coming, he’d have time to think about it and possibly not show up at all. He might still run the other way, once I got inside and saw him. If I ever did make it inside. I was already really late.
As I rang the doorbell, I tried coming up with some sort of plan for what I’d say to him when my chance arrived, but I gave up quickly. My words needed to be spontaneous, like this visit. Whatever came out of my mouth would come as a surprise to both of us.
The door opened almost immediately and there stood Ryan, his tall frame filling the doorway and his gaze steady on mine. He looked completely unsurprised to see me.
“You spoke to Nicole?” I guessed. So much for the element of surprise.
He nodded and crossed his arms in that defense mechanism way of his. “She’s not very good with secrets,” he said.
I’d noticed. But now I was glad she’d mentioned to him that I might be coming. The fact that he’d known this and still answered the door was faintly promising.
“You look different,” he said, his brow creased like he couldn’t quite figure out what had changed about me.
I looked him square in his Bradley Cooper eyes. “I am different.”
He dropped his arms to the sides and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, his gaze never leaving my face. My own arms itched to embrace him, to pull him close to me until my cheek fit into that spot between his shoulder and neck, like it used to do every time we hugged. I missed that—and him—so much that my body ached with it.
I opened my mouth to tell him this, but I was interrupted by a small figure in a green dinosaur shirt squeezing past Ryan’s legs and fastening to my own. “Robin,” Mason said, grinning up at me. I stroked his curls and smiled back at him.
Until Now Page 25
