by Harlow Cole
She bounced a little on her toes, turning her ankle over on the side, like she used to when she got nervous as a kid.
“But I can get it done fast, and we can do something if you want,” I added hurriedly.
“No, I don’t want you to rush. I actually was thinking about going for a short walk. I want to pick up something to take back to Joey. There are tons of those shops with the poop emoji pillows or a Statue of Liberty Pez dispenser. I have to take her something to assuage the fact I’m not bringing her back a pair of Jimmy Choos or a Louis Vuitton. I could do it while you’re working out and then meet you back here. I’ll be fast, and I promise not to get lost.”
“Are you sure? Why don’t I come with you and save my workout for tonight? I don’t like the idea of you going off alone.”
Okay, I really fucking hated the idea, but I was trying to seem gallant instead of creepy.
“I’ll be fine. Really. It will be an adventure to go on my own. Prove to myself I can do it.”
Fuck. There’s no way I can stop her now.
I threaded my hands behind my head. “At least let Gino drive you. I can get him to . . .”
Her arms wrapped around my waist. She rose up on her toes, pressing her lips against mine. I quickly deepened the kiss. When she lightly bit down on my bottom lip, my hands grabbed ahold of her ass and started to lift her back toward the counter.
“Uh-uh. No, buddy. We’ve got stuff to do. If you behave now, maybe we can find a way to break in that fancy airplane of yours later on.”
“Don’t tease me,” I said against her lips.
She pulled back and adjusted her ponytail. “I’ve got this. Really. I’ll be back before you’re done working out.”
She was already halfway out of the room.
“Be careful. Make sure you have your phone.”
“I’ll be fine. Stop being so overprotective,” she called back. “You know, I took care of myself the last couple of years and managed to stay alive without you lording over me.”
Her words drove the knife deeper.
“I can’t help it where you’re concerned,” I murmured too softly for her to hear.
The door swung shut behind her.
I’d already dialed by the time I reached the terrace.
“S’up, boss?”
“Ashley is about to exit the front door. Can you swing around and follow her? Not too close. She said she wanted to go for a walk. I just want to make sure she’s—”
“Yeah, yeah. I got her. Just walked out.” He paused and whistled. “But doesn’t look like she’s going for a walk, boss. She’s getting in a cab.”
“What?”
“I assume you want me to follow after them.”
“Fuck,” I replied, running an angry hand through my hair. “I knew she was up to something. Yes. Stay with her. Let me know where she goes.”
I hung up on him and immediately hit speed dial. I needed to figure out where the hell the rest of the Fosters had run off to. All three of them would add a few more years to my life if they learned to fucking follow directions.
* * *
Ashley
My mother was the only one who knew about this place. My secret died with her.
So did my dream of ever stepping foot here.
The people all looked friendly. They dressed differently than the folks I’d seen all over the city. More colorful. Almost bold. They were the type that naturally rebelled against fitting in.
As I got close to one of the buildings, a guy with a dark purple hoodie and a head full of long dreads stopped to look back and hold the door for me. He had a beautiful smile.
“Oh, no. Thanks. I’m waiting here for someone,” I said. The white lie slid off my tongue.
There was a little courtyard between two buildings, filled with abstract metal sculptures. I sat on a nearby bench, pretending to study them.
Last night, I’d told Brayden I felt like I’d glimpsed the life I could have had.
Coming to see this completed the circle.
I could picture myself here. Backpack slung over my shoulder, camera affixed to my neck, laughing as I hurried by with a few friends. I sat on that bench and dreamed about what that would feel like.
If things had just broken a little differently.
Brayden’s mother had talked about dominoes that tumbled. And my mother had always believed we’d end up where we belonged. I needed to make peace with the idea that maybe this place wasn’t where I was supposed to be. But the pull I felt, sitting on that bench, made me feel like those dominoes had all fallen on top of my head and crushed me, rather than pushing me toward the place I needed to end up.
I started to rise, ready to say my goodbyes and make my way home, when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I fumbled for it, muttering to myself, “Jeez, of course, he has to check up on me. He’s so mental sometimes.”
My brother’s name surprised me.
We’d exchanged a handful of texts all weekend. He’d been having a good time with Matt and his buddy. They’d talked him into going to a Nationals game. He’d sent me a snapshot of them standing next to the mascots of a bunch of overstuffed presidents.
He should’ve been home by now.
“Hey. How’s it going? You guys make it back safe?”
He didn’t respond.
I could hear him breathing into the phone.
“Nathan?” Alarm laced my tone. I imagined him fallen somewhere, struggling on his own without me there to help. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sis. It’s not me. I’m . . . I’m good.”
“What is it? Oh God, is it Dad? Did you hear from him? You’re scaring me, Nathan. Speak.”
“That dude from the bank was just here.”
“Oh, shit. Mr. Garrett? What did he want?”
I glanced around, feeling foolish for coming here. I couldn’t afford to let myself get caught up in such selfish thoughts. My real life was not a fairy tale. The last twenty-four hours made me temporarily forget.
I caught the last part of his response.
It jolted me upright.
“What? What did you just say?”
* * *
Brayden
“What’s the status?”
“Something weird is going on,” Gino answered.
My stomach sank.
“I tracked her down into NoHo.”
“What the hell is she doing there?”
“I don’t know. We’re at a school. That artsy-fartsy place. My neighbors had a kid who went here a couple years back. Kid was like a sculptor or something. Like that could ever fucking pay the bills.” He snickered.
A glimmer of something that felt suspiciously like hope bloomed inside my chest. She’d gone to the art institute? Maybe I’d gotten through to her last night.
Why lie about going there?
“Did she go inside? Did she talk to anyone?”
“Nah. That’s what’s weird. She wandered around the outside of a couple buildings, just kinda studying the people walking in and out. Then, she sat on a bench for a while, staring into empty space. She didn’t seem bothered or anything, so I just let her be. But then she got a phone call. And there was some kind of argument. I crossed the street to get closer, and by that time, she was crying like a school kid with skinned up knees. Tears all running down her face and everything. If you don’t mind me saying, chick is still a knockout, even with mascara running all over the place. My Pamela cries like that when the Hallmark Channel plays those damn Christmas movies. She looks like a hot freaking mess though.”
“G, where is she now?” I asked, impatient.
“She got back in a cab. I’m trailing behind them now. She’s on her way back to you, boss. But she’s definitely not happy.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, defeated as reality broke over me. “She already knows.”
* * *
“Brayden, we have to go. We have to leave right now. I have to get home. As soon as possi
ble. Can we get the plane to leave faster? Can I just get on a regular flight or something?”
As soon as Ashley tumbled through the door, those words started spilling out. The tracks of mascara that Gino described before, now wore a path down both her cheeks.
I followed her all the way to the bedroom. She flung her little black suitcase on the bed and started piling her things back into it.
“Coming here was a huge mistake. I should never have left. Maybe I could’ve stopped them. I can’t believe they’d just take it. Just fucking take it without any warning. Years of people’s lives, and they don’t even care. Don’t even have the decency to give any warning. Pulled the fucking rug right out from under us. My father. My God. What am I going to tell my father?”
She stopped moving. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Fresh sobs broke from deep inside her chest. My whole body shook as I stepped tentatively toward her, waiting to see if she’d punch me in the face.
She didn’t resist.
Quite the opposite.
She let me wrap my arms all the way around her, let her body sag against mine. Her wet cheek pressed against my chest as her arms clung to me.
“Can we please get home fast? We need to go, Brayden. Take me home.”
The way she’d said that churned my insides even more.
We.
Home.
There’s a feeling you get right before you slide into home plate. It’s this gut-wrenching need to just get there. To reach that target and know you’re safe. It’s what propels you to do whatever’s necessary. To thrust your legs out from under you and literally throw your body into the dirt.
Ninety feet stretched between the bases.
I only had an inch left to slide.
I could taste it.
Please, God.
“Shh.” I smoothed my hand down her back. “I’ll get you there, baby. I just need you to calm down and let me help you.”
She pulled back, looking at me with sad eyes. “I wish there were a simple fix. Maybe if I’d listened . . . maybe if I hadn’t been so hardheaded. But, now, I’m too late. Now, it’s done. And there’s nothing I can do. Nothing anyone can do to get it back from the Brooks Brothers twins.”
I leaned down to rest my forehead against hers. Breathing her in like old times.
“Ashley, talk to me,” I whispered.
She lightly kissed me on the cheek and then pulled away to sit down on the corner of the bed. Her chest visibly rose and fell. I watched the movement, counting my breaths along with hers.
My whole world tilted on a precipice.
“Nathan called me while I was out. Mr. Garrett, from the bank, came by the house first thing this morning. He was upset and wanted to see me. Nathan forced him to talk.” She licked her lips, gathering the courage to find her next words. “They sold the marina. My mother had leveraged everything before she died. The loan payments were just . . .” She heaved out another breath and trailed off. “We defaulted on the second mortgage late last year. Technically, the bank took ownership a few months ago. I appealed. I wrote letters. Old customers helped. The freaking town council wrote to the bank on our behalf. I came to an agreement with the bank. If my family could redeem the loan balance, we could get it back. There was no one crazy enough to buy it, so the corporate suits agreed.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to witness the devastation on her face.
“I know. I know,” she said, mistaking my pain. “Mr. Garrett told Nathan some company just came in and made an offer the bigwigs couldn’t turn down. They’ve talked the county into rezoning it, so they can build. I’ve lost it, Brayden. Everything my parents worked for.
“I have to find my father. God. Can you help me do that? I’ve got to find him as soon as possible. I can’t tell him this over the phone. His heart is already broken. I don’t know what this is going to do to him.”
“I can find him. I have people who can—”
A phone ringing interrupted me.
“Oh, shit. That’s mine. Where did I leave it? Nathan was gonna call me back.”
She wandered back toward the living room. I could hear her talking softly. I walked to the end of the hall, hovering in the doorway, as piece by piece, my whole world began sliding over the cliff. The hope I’d felt, hearing about her sitting outside that art school, became a cruel memory. One last bitter pill jammed down my throat.
“What did you say the name was? Why is that so familiar? Wait.” Her voice took on a sudden edge. “Say it again.”
I couldn’t feel the dirt beneath my feet, but I could see the catcher standing in front of home plate with a shit-eating grin and the ball already tucked in his mitt. I’d never slide under his glove. All that work, all the hours, all the years . . . I’d never beat the tag.
“It’s a, what?” she added, harshly now. “You’re sure?” She paused again. “Nathan, I have to call you back.”
She dropped her phone down onto the kitchen counter. For the first time since she’d walked back into the apartment, she stood absolutely still. Her hands twisted in front of her. Black and white tiles slid into place, aligning just before they began toppling over, one by one.
She started moving all at once, rushing past me as I tried to grab for her arm. I called out her name.
She threw open the door to the office. Her hand hit the wall, flipping switches, drowning the room in light. I stood in the doorway as she walked to stand right in front of the painting.
“I missed this before. When we were talking about it.” Her voice grew eerily calm. “You had this painted, didn’t you? By your friend? This wasn’t something you picked out from his finished work. We saw his other stuff. It was a lot different than this.” She turned and briefly faced me before returning to stare at the image. “He painted this specifically for you.”
She stepped closer, zeroing in on the boy standing at the bottom, lasso in hand as he pulled the cluster of stars down toward the earth.
“He has a ball cap on. Backward. He’s you. You’re the boy.” Her whole body remained motionless, but the color drained from her face. “What’s this called?”
I didn’t respond.
“It’s the constellation, isn’t it? Like Hercules. You love them. I forgot. The telescope in the boathouse. Those night sails with my dad. Those books you used to read. We went to the planetarium one summer. You were fascinated by it all.” She turned her body toward me but didn’t look up. “What’s the name of this painting, Brayden?”
She pressed her lips together.
I couldn’t feel my feet anymore.
“Tell me!” she shouted.
A breath, I could not feel, whooshed out of my lungs with the same hiss as helium draining from a popped balloon. The tightness gripped ahold of me. My inhaler lay hidden in my bottom bathroom drawer. There was no way I’d count myself back out of this one. My fingertips already tingled, and my breathing was growing too short, too fast. I held on to the doorframe.
She burst past me, almost running. I thought it was to get away from me. But I could hear her screaming. I turned in time to see her standing over the dining room table. Her arm swept out, shoving the neatly stacked piles over in one fell swoop. Magazines and envelopes scattered every which way.
She cried out again—a terrible sound, like a wounded animal in pain.
I could feel it in my bones.
I started counting again. Not the backward math to calm myself down. An estimate of the number of steps to the bathroom drawer.
I had to get there.
She bent and picked up a large manila envelope, thrusting it toward me like a knife. It might as well have been. I held on to my ribs, feeling like it’d struck me from across the room. The numbness claimed all feeling, but I could hear myself panting.
“Argo Navis. That’s what it’s called, isn’t it? The boat constellation. You have a painting of it on your wall. And this envelope came addressed to A. Navis, Inc. With your address.” She stared down at the words on the l
abel.
So fucking careless. I just hadn’t even thought about it.
Jess usually got my mail.
“It’s you. You stole it, didn’t you? Why? Tell me, why the fuck would you buy the marina out from under us?”
“It was time, Ashley. I had no choice.”
“Did you trick me into coming here, so you could steal it? Why would you do that? Is this some kind of sick need for control? You can’t manipulate us this way and expect us to trust you again.”
“I’m not stealing anything. I’m trying to save it. We’re all on the same team here, Ash. There were others. It was me or a group of developers who would’ve come and leveled the place. I wasn’t gonna stand by and watch that happen. I made a promise to your mother.”
“Oh Jesus. Don’t hide behind my dead mother.” She turned away from me, staring out toward the wall of glass windows.
“It means something to me, too, you know. I need to know it’s still there. That it will always be there to come back to.”
Her shoulders sagged as her hand flew up to cover her mouth again. “He was right, wasn’t he? My brother warned me. Just like before. And, just like before, I didn’t listen to him.” She rounded back to face me, even angrier. “You’re terrified of not getting your fancy life back, so you’re trying to buy your way back into your old one. That’s what this all is. Me, St. Michaels, the marina. I heard you on the phone the other day. Telling someone you’d learned to always have a contingency. It’s all connected. We’re your backup. I’m your plan B.”
I strode toward her, forcing the anxiety down deep, channeling a last surge of adrenaline to keep myself lucid.
“I asked you to let me help a million times. You wouldn’t give in. Your pride was gonna cost—”
“My pride is all I have left.”
“It doesn’t have to be, goddamn it. I can give you all of this.” I tried to hold my arms out wide. They only made it a quarter of the way. “This is the life we could be living. Together.”
“I don’t want to be your puppet on a string. You can’t force this on me. I’m not a little girl who you make choices for. I deserve to be more than someone’s safety net.”
