Page 39 of Britta & the Beach Boy
There’s no bypassing her question, so I take a deep breath. “I worried I’d given him the wrong idea about why I was there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know… I just… he kissed me, and I kissed him back. Then he said we could stay at the house again, and I was afraid if I said yes that he’d have expectations I wasn’t going to deliver on.” Hearing the words out loud doesn’t make them more convincing.
“Why not just tell him you weren’t going to sleep with him?” Her question is valid, but also annoying because I’m supposed to be the older, wiser cousin.
I throw up my hands. “I don’t know. I panicked.”
Stella studies me from the other side of the car, her eyes digging into me, searching for the secrets I’ve tucked away.
“You ran,” she says. “That’s not like you.”
“I was worried aboutBritta’s.” That’s my only excuse. It’s not like I can tell her she’s wrong. I’ve never had a problem setting boundaries with guys.
Stella lets out a frustrated sigh that forces me to look at her. “I know how importantBritta’sis to you.” She reaches across the car and squeezes my hand gently before letting it go. “But my career is important too, and that party tonight would have been an amazing networking opportunity.”
I wince at her words. “What do you mean? You work for Georgia.”
“Yeah, and Zach and Georgia will move back to LA once her project in Paradise is done,” she says this like I should believe it, just because Georgia has been saying she’s going back to LA since she came to Paradise. “And I want to take on more clients before then so I can move here, too. I can do some work remotely, but I can’t build the clientele I want in Paradise.”
Traffic slows again, and I mull over what she’s said. “So, if Dad and Adam had said I needed to come home right away, would you have stayed in LA without me?”
When she doesn’t answer, I glance at her long enough to see her blink in disbelief before she speaks.
“I’ve got a little over a week until Georgia’s show starts again. We’re living next door to the World Champion of surfing and his friend who starred in a TV show and who also is the twin brother of Frankie Forsythe. And… AND, their best friend is Rhys James.” Stella puts her palms up, likeduh.
“Okay, fine. When you put it that way, you have a pretty excellent opportunity here.” I weave around a car as two lanes merge into one.
“Yeah, so do you, Britt.”
“What do you mean?” I'm taken back by her words and nearly miss the red taillights in front of me and have to slam on my brakes to avoid rear-ending the car in front of us.
“I mean, you used to want to go somewhere bigger than Paradise. You wanted your own business, your own life, and you gave that up when your mom got sick.”
I keep my eyes pointed forward. She’s not telling me anything I don’t already know. Occasionally, I let myself imagine what my life would be like now if Mom hadn’t gotten sick. But it’s a pointless exercise. Those opportunities I gave up are gone, and I’d give them up again.
“What else was I supposed to do?” While traffic is stopped, I face her. “Dad couldn’t take care of Mom by himself and run the grocery store at the same time. And my brothers have their own businesses. They did what they could, though. We all did.”
“I know they did. You all pitched in.” Stella scoots closer and pulls me into a side hug. “But you’re the only one who doesn’t see that you gave up the most. The internship in LA. The chance to live somewhere you weren’t Pete and Heidi Thomsen’s daughter or Adam, Zach, and Bear’s sister. The chance to be who you really are instead of how other people define you.”
I close my eyes, tempted to sink into Stella’s hug, but we’re in the middle of traffic. And I’m not ready.
In general, I try not to think about what I gave up to take care of Mom, because when I do, I get angry. Not just at her becauseBritta’sisn’t mine, but also at my dad for not selling the store so he could take care of Mom full time. At my brothers for not having the same expectations or pressure to care for our parents because society thinks it’s a woman’s job.
At Mom for getting sick.
That’s the one I feel the guiltiest for. Logically, I understand it’s not her fault. She didn’t ask to get Alzheimer’s in her fifties. She didn’t want to leave Dad alone or miss seeing Bear get married. Adam and Evie are ready to have kids. Mom would have loved having grandkids.
None of it is fair. That’s what makes me mad. And being mad over things I have no control over leaves me feeling like a spoiled little girl. That’s not who I am. I’m the girl who holds things together. It scares me to think that person could disappear if I admit that I’m angry.
Because life isn’t fair, right? No one gets it easy. Childhood dreams aren’t reality for anyone. But I’m uncomfortable with the thoughts Stella’s brought up for me and I’m not sure how to sort them.
“Thanks, Stella.” I pull away from her as traffic starts again.“I really appreciate you looking out for me. I’ll commit to staying at least until you leave.”
“Good girl.” She pats my head like our Grandma Sparks used to do to us. “And don’t run from Dex anymore, okay?”
My mouth drops and I choke out a “What!” before coughing a laugh. “I’m not running from Dex.”
