Page 27 of Falling Like Stars

Your dad’s cabin? I type.

It’s not the Four Seasons but you won’t get splinters.

I smile and reply, I fly to Anchorage the next a.m. Ungodly early. You have a couch I can crash on until my ride shows up?

The spare room is all yours.

I’m thinking this is the first thing outside of work that I’ve looked forward to in a long time when another text comes in.

Come or don’t. No big deal.

My smile widens.

I’ll be there. Thanks for the invite.

She doesn’t reply but that’s okay. I leave it alone. It’s enough that Rowan Walsh isn’t done wanting to know me either.

Chapter Seven

“SORRY, SAY THAT again?”

J.J. has ceased stacking glasses at the liquor station in the kitchen of my little cabin and is staring at me as if I’d just told her aliens had landed in the backyard. Her dark brown eyes are wide with shock. Her hair is pulled severely from her face, but the black ringlets burst from behind, which is like her: immaculate and disciplined but soft too. I continue organizing the charcuterie board like it’s no big deal because it isn’t.

“I asked him, and he said yes,” I say. “Do we have anymore brie? I’m sure I bought some…”

I start for the fridge, but she grabs my arm.

“Zachary Butler is coming to your birthday party. Is this what you’re telling me? Now? When guests will be here in less than an hour?”

“It was a spur of the moment thing. He probably won’t show up anyway.”

J.J. puts her hands on her hips and gives me a you’re-in-trouble look. “And you didn’t think to tell me? When did you talk to him? What is even happening right now?”

I find the cheese in the fridge and start to unwrap it. “I didn’t say anything because…”

I have no good excuse. I should’ve told my best friend; why wouldn’t I tell my best friend? Any normal person would have mentioned a world-famous movie star was coming to their private party. But I’m not normal. As soon as I hit send on those texts to Zach, I felt ill. Like I overstepped a cosmic boundary and betrayed Josh. The text I received from Josh’s mom right after my invite to Zach couldn’t have been more telling.

Hello my sweet girl. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday! 26 years old. The time does fly. Josh would be so proud of you. I know I am. Xoxo

Carol Bennet’s text stacked itself on every other text from her over the past ten years. Reminders about Josh and how old he would have been. Appointments to visit his grave with her once a month. What we’d be doing if he were still alive. How happy he and I’d be together if only…

If only I’d insisted he stay with me and not cross that street.

If only I’d called out and warned him about that car.

If only I’d acted at all.

Side by side, the texts from Josh’s mom and Zach were like two different lives: one that I lived in and one stuck behind a locked door.

J.J. is waiting for an answer. “He doesn’t seem like a movie star to me,” I say. “We talked a bit at Covet’s wrap and he’s just…a nice guy.”

My best friend’s eyes narrow. “You don’t hang out with nice guys. This is a first. But encouraging.”

“Please. Nothing is ever possibly going to happen between Zach and me,” I say. “And it doesn’t change the party. We take everyone’s phones anyway.”

It was party policy: guests surrender their phones as they arrive so that no one leaves the remote little cabin without a sobriety check. The second bedroom, couch, and floorspace are available for those who need it.

“Oh, except the guest bedroom is for Zach,” I say. “He’s got an early flight to Alaska. I told him he could crash here until his driver fetches him for the airport.”

---