Page 87 of Just a Distraction

I couldn’t face coming home to the suite I’d been staying in because there was no one there to tell. The moment I stopped driving, I’d have to acknowledge that fact. So, I postponed it as long as I could.

As I suspected, walking into the suite with the inability to say, “Hey! I got a book deal from a major publisher. They’re looking at publishing the book I wrote in college, too,” completely gutted me.

I was already hollowed out by losing Rose, so it shouldn’t have hurt more. But it did.

And now, a month later, as the family gathers at Oliver’s place to informally celebrate their baby’s birth, I figured it was as good a time as any.

The silence in the room is broken by baby Elizabeth’s cry. Elizabeth Josephine Tate was born to Sophie and Oliver last week. She was named after two of Sophie’s favorite literarycharacters: Elizabeth Bennett and Jo March. My niece, Navie, is obsessed with her.

It’s just as well. Navie will be a big sister in a few months, so this is good practice. And River, Gabriel’s wife, is pregnant, too.

I’m happy for them. Truly. But I miss Callum more than I can articulate.

As Oliver picks up Elizabeth from Elianna—the sisters-in-law have all been passing her around, gushing over her—the floodgates open and people start talking over each other. Things like, “Why did you never tell us this?” And, “You’re famous?” And, “Do we have to start calling you Thaddeus now?”

But overall, the feeling in the room is happy. I can see the pride in their eyes. Sophie starts asking me questions about the publishing process, and Oakley, Alec’s wife, says she knows of a great bookstore in Boulder where I could do a signing.

“The publicist has been setting up some signings and publicity things,” I say. “It’s all pretty crazy since they’re trying to get it out as soon as possible.” I explain to them that the publishing company wants to capitalize on the popularity of the story on Turnip by speeding up a process that normally takes several months to a year.

It’s been a dizzying time. Which is just as well. If I didn’t have all this going on, the sting of Rose leaving would have probably done me in. But this gives me things to do and think about. And I am excited thatZehmawill be out there in a much larger way than it was on Turnip. I just received word that they have plans to publish my first book,The Dowager Magician,next year. When Brandon Sanderson heard about all this, he even sent me a personalized letter of congratulations.

Sadly, between all the edits and the online promotion I’m contractually obligated to do, I haven’t had time to write anything new.

Actually, it’s not because of the busyness of getting this book out there. Let’s call it what it is. I haven’t been writing because I’m heartbroken.

After the questions and excitement die down, I walk up the basement stairs to the main floor of Oliver and Sophie’s house and go to the kitchen. I need some quiet for a moment.

I take the last letter Rose wrote to me and read it again. I carry it with me, but I can’t bring myself to read it very often. Tonight, though, since she couldn’t share in this moment with me, I figure I’ll look over it again.

Dear Milo Knox Tate,

I don’t have a way with words like you do. But I’ll do my best to convey my feelings.

Milo, I love you. I’m confident that you know this, as everything this summer has, hopefully, conveyed my feelings. I feel your love for me, and it means everything to me.

I know it’s hard to understand why I’m following through with our earlier determination to break things off once we both start school. I didn’t expect to fall so hard for you, and so sometimes I want so badly to never say goodbye to you again.

It’s hard for me to explain exactly why, but I have to do this. Like I’ve explained, long distance feels a bit like the Boogey Man to me—terrible and terrifying. But beyond that, I can’t be present in this relationship as I navigate the most difficult time of my life. These next two years will be hard and will take everything I’ve got. If I’m only able to give a small portion to this relationship, what will happen in the long run? You deserve more than a small portion of the woman you’re with. You deserve someone who can give you her time and energy, who can place you as a priority. That person isn’t me at this time. And I can’t ask you to wait until I can.

Thank you for all you’ve done for me and Callum. Thank you for all you are. I’m immensely proud of your gifts and talents.I’ll be the first in line to buy all your books. Please know that I’m cheering you on from afar.

I love you always,

Rose

The familiar bitterness creeps into my lungs as I fold it up again and put it back in my shirt pocket.

“Milo?” It’s Stella, standing at the top of the basement stairs. Her tone is kind. “Getting some air up here?”

“Yeah. I just needed a minute.”

She’s dressed in a light-green velour sweat suit. Her heavily lined eyes blink rapidly, yet she’s smiling through her tears as she joins me in the state-of-the-art, dark-stained with white tile kitchen. “I pride myself on my intuition, but I have to say, it totally failed me this time, you little punk. I had no idea you were writing books!”

“Sorry about that,” I say. “I knew the longer I waited, the harder it would be to tell everyone.”

“We’re shocked, but I think everyone will eventually understand why you kept it from us.” She offers a sympathetic smile.

“I hope so. I just couldn’t figure out how to be what the family needed and what I needed.” I take a long drink of water from a cup I found in Oliver and Sophie’s cupboard. “I didn’t exactly like this side of myself for a long while.”

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