Page 98 of Someone to Have
We’re grinning at each other like fools. “You can do whatever you want. One of Taylor’s friends is a dog trainer. She said Sadie can recommend a local rescue or help you train.”
“You talked to Taylor about this?”
I can’t read her tone, so I’m back to shifting in my chair like a fifth grade boy whose teacher just called him out for copying test answers from his neighbor. “I wanted a woman’s opinion on the house. Please don’t be ma?—”
“I’m not mad. I just...wow.” She gets up and comes around the table.
“Also, don’t hit me,” I say as I cringe.
“I’m not going to hit you. I’m going to hug you.”
“Oh.” My shoulders relax. “Right.”
“Thank you.” She wraps her arms tight around me. “For all of this. For everything.”
“You’re welcome,” I manage, my voice only cracking on the last syllable. Even though I’d like to make a joke out of this—because that’s what I do to make big emotions manageable—I just hug her back.
Which is how Taylor and Rhett find us.
“What’s going on?” Rhett demands. Clearly, thekid inherited his opinion about demonstrating emotions from me. “Mom, are you okay?”
While Jen turns to him, I glance at Taylor. Tinkerbell doesn’t mind emotions. Her eyes are brimming with tears, but she sniffs and looks away.
“Honey, everything is great,” Jen says, opening her arms to her son. “It will be even better when I get out of here. We’re going to make Skylark our home.”
As they hug, Jen explains the situation with the house to Rhett. She grabs my phone again and shows him the photographs. Taylor joins in on the fun, although she keeps her gaze averted from me.
I hate that, but not even my aching heart can detract from the joy of this moment. My sister’s life—her heart—is on the mend.
Her happiness is going to make any pain that comes my way worth it in the long run.
32
TAYLOR
I takeoff work the day of the play’s opening. Not because of nerves or feeling sick, but because Sloane got back into town last night, arriving in Colorado on her brother’s private jet. The relief of having a legit excuse to avoid thinking about tonight’s performance and what to do about falling for the wrong guy makes my shoulders finally relax for the first time in days.
To welcome our friend home, our book club is having breakfast together at Sadie’s farmhouse. The crisp morning air is sweet with the scent of hay and horses, snow glittering like diamonds in the light reflecting off distant peaks.
It’s only been a few months since Sadie and Ian moved from the house where she and her sister grew up to a seventy-five-acre spread north of town. I pause on the wraparound porch and imagine what it would feel like to have someone care enough about your dreams to build their whole life around them.
They bought the property so that Sadie would have more room for her dog training business. And because they needed a barn to get Ian’s daughter, Riva, the horse every girl dreams of owning.
Maybe not every girl, but I was definitely horse crazy. Notthat it mattered. The only chance I had of getting a horse was finding one that could also ice skate—some equine unicorn—because it was expected that every member of the Maxwell clan liked winter sports, even our pets. I push down the familiar feeling of failure at never fitting the Maxwell mold.
I love that Sadie found her happiness through the bucket list challenge. Iris did, too, for that matter. And while my friends don’t all realize it, I secretly hoped I might do the same. Unfortunately, Bryan officially gives me major ick. And Avah’s right—there’s no coming back from the ick.
My secret heart-of-hearts wish was that Eric would develop more-than-friends-with-benefits feelings for me. God, how pathetic can one person be? Wishing for someone who’s made it clear that casual is all he can give.
Feeding off his sister’s excitement about the house, Eric quickly made arrangements to move up the closing date so he could spend the remainder of his time in Skylark working on renovations. My chest tightens at the reminder that his time here has an expiration date.
Or maybe he just wants more excuses to avoid me. I still see Rhett for tutoring, but other than short glimpses in the hallway or watching out my window like some sort of creeper as he pulls out in his truck, I haven’t seen Eric since we got back from Denver last Sunday afternoon.
Which is probably for the best. Only my heart is having trouble getting the message that I’m supposed to be moving on.
It’s not like he’s being a jerk. He thanked me profusely for my advice on the house and everything I’ve done to help Rhett. His gratitude made it feel like he was tying up loose ends, nothing more, and it’s on me that I took the words as a brush-off. After all, he doesn’t need me anymore, so we’re done because he says so.
I should be fine with it. He kept his end of the bargain. Those confidence lessons have paid off in spades, at least in rehearsal. I can deliver my lines with conviction instead of whispereduncertainty. How ironic that I found my voice but lost the person who helped me claim it.
