Page 121 of Friends Don't Kiss

“Meet us at Lazy’s in an hour. It’s the pub right there,” I say, pointing down and across the Green.

forty-four

Kiara

Coltonwrapsmebackunder his arm and squeezes me tight, then kisses the top of my hat. “You okay?” I ask him. He was pulled out from the hearthsong a few minutes ago, but thankfully he’s here for the bonfire.

“I’m good,” he says, but I can tell he’s tense.

The youngest firefighter volunteer lights up the fire, and soon we’re stepping back a few feet under the heat. Faces glow in the warm light and shadows stretch on the church’s white facade. This might be my favorite part of Laskin, when the daylight festivities definitely come to a close, people fighting the cold and darkness with fire and community. This year, I won’t be going alone to my cold apartment after all this is over.

I nestle deeper in Colton’s strong embrace.

“Beer at Lazy’s?” I ask him. “Or soup. Or both.”

He takes a deep breath. “In a bit, sweets. No rush.”

“’Course,” I answer him.

He looks a little worried, or maybe just pensive. “You okay there?” I ask him.

He squeezes my shoulder. “You heard from your family lately?”

I shrug. “Nope.” Though Maya tried to call me at the most inconvenient times. Once when I was reading a book, and the other when I was staring into nothingness, trying to visualize my future after working on my business plan.

“Your sister wants to see you.”

I look up to ask him how he knows, but instead say, “She’s gonna have to wait. I’m not in the mood.”

He kisses me again and turns us toward Lazy’s. “Well, she’s waiting for you at Lazy’s, so why don’t we get this out of the way, uh?”

My feet stop working. “Shewhat?”

He prompts me forward. “It’s not a big deal. Hear what she has to say and then move on from it.”

I take a deep breath.

I should have answered that fucking phone.

They’re both there, Maya and David, next to each other in a booth. We slide in front of them. They don’t bother with hello.

“Hey,” I say, vaguely worried that she felt the need to come all the way here. It can’t be that something happened to Nana—Uncle Bill would have called. Or Mom, for that matter. What could she possibly want with me? “What’s up?”

“He died last week,” she says, her eyes brimming, reproach clearly on the tip of her tongue.

I lift my eyebrows at her. “Okay.” I’m going to assume we’re talking about our father.

She turns to David and with a smirk, says, “I told you.”

He rounds her shoulders with his arm and gives her a quick squeeze.

“Are you happy?” she asks me, defiance and incredulity in her voice. Back then, it was “Are youhappy now?” Like I’d been the one to betray my whole family. Now, she’s looking at me like she doesn’t know me at all. At least we’re on the same page.

“Are you?” she repeats when I don’t answer.

The past hits me with full force and I feel my eyes tingling. Not at the fact that my father is dead. No. But at the way he could turn his back on us and never see us again. Ever. A wife, two children. Nothing. We meant nothing to him then. We meant nothing to him our whole lives.

“We were nothing to him, Maya.” I return her stare, my jaw hurting from clenching it so hard. I barely register the warmth on my side as Colton slides closer to me, then wraps his arm around my shoulders.

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