Page 13 of Sawyer

“Seen it a million times.”

She gestures for the popcorn tub, and I hand it over.

Since last summer, the Stewart girls—Parker and Reeve in particular—have been frosty with me. I’m guessing they know what happened between me and their brother and blame me for hurting him.

Reeve slides the bucket back to me.

“Thanks,” I say. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Bruce doesn’t charge for refills.”

I’m uncomfortable knowing that she doesn’t like me. I want to yell,It was never supposed to get that serious! We agreed to keep things casual!but I’d look unhinged, so I swallow my words.

“Thanks again,” I murmur, turning away.

“Hey, Ivy!” Reeve calls after me.

I face her, eyebrows raised.

“We’re all real sorry about Priscilla. If there’s anything we can do…”

I manage a small smile. “That’s nice, Reeve. Thank you.”

She nods, then looks back down at her magazine.

I head back to my seat and pass the popcorn to Jenny, who takes it without saying “thank you.” By this point in the movie, Sandra Bullock’s husband is dead, and she’s raising two little girls with the help of her great-aunts.

I pull out my phone, turn down the brightness, and check my messages. There are four waiting—two from my father and two from Clark. I decide to read my father’s first.

FATHER:

Ivy, I cannot reiterate strongly enough how much this internshipwill mean for your future and the future of the Caswell name. When we spoke on Sunday, I offered to provide professional care for your aunt. As of today, I have hired an RN who will arrive in Skagway on Wednesday morning. The same plane that delivers the nurse will wait at the airport to take you back to Juneau on Wednesday evening.

Please plan accordingly.

***

FATHER:

On a personal note, I want to add that I was very proud of you when you shared the news of your engagement. Joining our family name with the Rupert name was something to celebrate. But that pride is quickly devolving into disappointment at your current behavior. As of Wednesday, I look forward to you focusing your attention henceforth on the far more important matters of your future, which include your wedding to Clark and an advantageous career in state politics.

A sharp, buzzing anger rises up within me, and I lean toward my cousin, and whisper, “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Whatever.”

I step back down the aisle and beeline for the unisex restrooms at the back of the Purple Parsnip. Both are empty, which should give me a few minutes to get myself together. I enter one and lock the door.

“How dare he!” I stare at my reflection, gripping the sides of the wash basin as tears of fury and frustration stream down my cheeks.

I turn on the water, which is freezing cold, and splash my cheeks.

“He has no right!” I tell myself, patting my cheeks dry.

Sitting down on the closed toilet seat, I re-open my text app and start typing.

ME:

Father, please cancel the nurse you’ve scheduled and the plane to fly her here. As I shared with you on Sunday, I’m not going anywhere until my aunt is finished with chemo. Once she is stable, I will cheerfully return to my life with Clark in Juneau. Please try to understand, and know how sorry I am to disappoint you.

---