Page 69 of Ticket to You

I join Adam as he walks his family to the front door. His stance has gone rigid, and he flexes his hands, his fingers flared with tension. I study his set jaw and furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand the shift in his mood.

The siblings leave in order from oldest to youngest, as if they rehearsed it. Each one wraps me in a hug, and Adam’s three brothers all make some kind of joke in their goodbye. Eloise is the last sibling to leave. When she hugs me, she holds me tight, squeezing my ribs. Gosh, I’ve gotten more hugs in the past twenty-four hours than I have in the past five years.

“Don’t be a stranger, Philly,” Eloise whispers, which is funny considering we practically were strangers less than forty-eight hours ago. Yet, her tone is sincere.

David stays on the front steps with Adam and me as the rest of his children climb into their expensive cars and depart through the looping driveway. “What would you two like to do tomorrow?” His smile is at least a bit more convincing than Adam’s, but it’s still clouded.

“Mom’s been gone all day.” Adam’s exhale is heavy.Bingo.No wonder he’s upset. His only distractions from his mother have left. “I think we might need to head back to the city.”

I look up at Adam. “Tonight?” My voice is strained.

He squeezes my hand. “Not if you don’t want to. But…well, we’ll talk about it.” He looks back at David, who offers a sympathetic expression.

“If I don’t see you again before your trip—” David hugs Adam again. “—I want you to know how proud I am of you.”

Adam pulls back a foot to study his father’s face like he’s looking for some sign that he’s joking.

But David’s earnestness is clear. He grabs both of Adam’s shoulders, holding him out to look him up and down, looking surprised by how grown his son is. “I know I was hesitant about you becoming a journalist, but you’ve proven time and time again that you’remadeto be one. And this new endeavor of yours, it’s bound to be a success. With you at the helm, how could it not be?”

A gentle smile lifts the corner of Adam’s lips.

“I’m also proud of you for somehow tricking Philly to come visit the family.” David turns his attention to me. “I see why you’re the woman who made the cut to come here, Ophelia.” He hugs me once more. “I hope you know that you’re welcome here any time, even while Adam is away. The kids all love you.”

The kids. He says that like they’re toddlers rather than full-on adults.

Maybe in his eyes, they’re both at the same time.

Maybe my grandpa would still call me “kid” to this day.

David walks slowly to his car. He looks back at us twice before finally climbing into the driver’s seat. When he leaves, his tires rumble against the fine gravel, the sound of it replaced by the soft splashing of the lawn’s fountain as the car gets further and further away.

36

ADAM

I don’t believein angels, but I imagine one would look something like Ophelia standing here in the moonlight. Her round, soft lips are slightly parted, her full brows are cast low over her shadowed eyes, and her hair waves in the wind. And all of that beauty doesn’t compare to who shereallyis.

She’s the smart and appreciative and ambitious woman who put up with my family for an entire day. Who fired back sarcastic jokes. Who seemed genuinely interested in each and every one of my family members.

I don’t want to look like an asshole in front of Ophelia. I don’t want to be the harsh, brute guy she met at the holiday party a few months ago. Instead, I want to be the guy I’ve felt like the past few days. But Mom is making that a challenge.

The rest of my family welcomed Ophelia with open arms—even in the most literal sense of the word. Seriously, would it have even been possible to give hermorehugs? They were genuine, if not a bittoogenuine at times. They were funny and made her laugh, and,God, I love to see her laugh.

Meanwhile, Mom spent most of Saturday “working.” After near-hourly texts from me today, she finally responded at seven, saying she was almost done. And that was an hour and a half ago.

It’s her loss.

“You really want to go back to the city tonight?” Ophelia asks, stepping toward me.

I close the distance between us, pulling Ophelia against my chest and resting my chin atop her head. “We don’t have to if you want to stay, but I’m not okay with how my mom has treated you.” She could have been here today if she wanted to be, but I can’t tell Ophelia that. “If we leave now, we can make it home by eleven. We can spend the whole day together tomorrow, just the two of us, before…”

“Before you leave,” Ophelia finishes, tightening her grip around my waist.

I nod against the top of her head.

“Won’t your mom be mad?” In Ophelia’s voice, I can hear the aching.

“Let her be mad.”

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